Suddenly and without warning
It was all set. The schedules had been organized to minute precision. A menu had been carefully chosen to include the dietary restrictions (no red meat, low salt, non-greasy) or lack thereof (many kinds of meat, salted, sugared, slippery with oil). Everyone, from the 75 year old to the 8 year old, was oriented to their assignments: greeter, welcome committee, driver, cook, assistant cook, dishwasher and cleaner. The house was gleaming, the silver was polished, the wine was chilled and the party was about to begin.
My family and I were doing what we did best, together. All 17 of us, nephews and nieces included, were going to meet and entertain a much-awaited houseguest in the family home. This is something my parents like to do. They have been known to overfeed houseguests (a.k.a eat five times a day), transform a bedroom into a spa and offer instant counseling services. They are phenomenal at it. All the guests have to do is to allow us to impose our weird humor on them, join the silly repartee and heck, join the karaoke every now and then (But do not attempt “Better Days” by Dianne Reeves. That is Youngest Sister’s signature song.) This was gonna be good. One for the books.
And then the unplanned happened. The Patriarch had to be rushed to the hospital. In one breathless moment, everything shifted and everything changed. The excursion to the beach was changed to a trip to the emergency room. Shooting-the-breeze stories morphed into hushed updates on x-rays, culture samples and the 2D Echo. For anyone who has had a loved one in the hospital, we know that everything else takes a backseat.
The days trickled by and the family found itself in a different pattern of activity. The battle plan would be laid out at the breakfast table, and tasks were distributed. The Eldest Sister became Chief Cook and whipped up a decadent feast. The Second Sister spread-sheeted the liquid intake and did it so well that the nurses were in awe of her system (“Organized kaayo, ma’am”). The Youngest Sister called to the fore her accounting skills and became the financial manager. The Elder Brother became Expert Driver and Younger Brother was Mr. Navigator. Conversations and meetings brought out opinions, plans and thoughts that were, before, unexpressed. It all turned out to be strangely wonderful.
Why am I sharing this? This upturn of events only serves to show that beautiful things can happen from what terrifies us and from the most unexpected circumstances. One only needs to trust the ties that bind us to one another, to allow the process to unfurl and to let go. To let life happen.
It is apt and timely, or rather a dollop of grace, that these events happened in the week that we honour and celebrate Mother Mary. She accepted all that happened to her, not with weak passivity and pessimism but with a trusting heart. Even as girl barely out of her teens, she was convinced that all that was happening had a lofty purpose and would bear good. She may not see it just yet, but her faith made the waiting worthwhile and her pain bearable.
She is with us, everywhere and in every second.
She is with you, as well.
