children of the Light

it was 84 degrees today.  Eight Four, people.  it is magic waking up in a room that is sipping from a bowl of golden sunshine, stumbling bleary-eyed to open the window to greet Resurrection day, and be greeted by a joyful hand shake of light and warm breeze and leaves whispering my name.  did i mention that Texas RULES?  

it was a beautiful weekend of family, birthday, laughter, tears, singing praises to God; and woven through it all was the luminous, ethereal thread of supernatural love.  Love that none of us could take credit for, but all of us received generous helpings of. 

that is straight up for real champagne popping joy

it has been something totally new and different, this time i have had here.  it is quiet in this home of mine, and we all walk gently through it.  the tender hush between time and eternity has descended upon our home and effected us all.  i no longer feel it is November.  i no longer count down the days until thanksgiving and the first Sunday of Advent.  i have been given this rare gift to be near a soul that will not dwell in this temporary life much longer.  it is strange, sad, and beautiful.  


my aunt Julie, uncle Charlie, and cousin Rachie came to be with Mimi for the weekend.  the hush fell upon them, too, when they came.  and our thoughts and conversation were on Mimi, and the end of her earthly journey and the anticipation of her greatest adventure that is hidden from us behind that thin veil.  

Saturday was my sweet aunt Julie’s birthday and her and my mom went out to do some sisterly birthday things.  Rachie and I were on duty with Mimi, and we had a couple of scary moments with her.  after the trouble passed, uncle Charlie had the divinely inspired idea to play the guitar and sing for Mimi.  the Holy Spirit was there and filled the room with the sweetness of hope for the Resurrection and the Life we all desire for Mimi and ourselves.  

we sang “Eagle’s Wings” on Rachie’s wonderful suggestion, and when we began the chorus “and He will raise you up...”, Mimi, in all her weakness and exhaustion, with a peaceful little smile on her face, raised up her arms in worship as she had always done before.  her arms were shaking with the strain, but she held that pose through the song, bringing tears of joy and love to our eyes for our beautiful Mimi and her inextinguishable desire to worship the Lord.  we were all raised up by the songs of praise on the wings of Hope and Grace in the face of death.

and again we say “where, O death, is your victory? where, O death, is your sting?”.  death, instead of being the ultimate separation from God that the fall cost us, is now the bridge to eternity with Jesus because of the Cross.  and we will miss our Mimi, but we will have a foundation of hope, joy and gratitude, because she will be truly Free when He calls her from this life to Life Everlasting.  

Saturday was sad, but it was also cause for celebration.  the celebration of my aunt Julie’s years on this earth and the woman who brought her into this life. 

 we drank good wine

i want to meet the team that put this description together

thanks for the props set up, rachie

and ate good food and really good cake (props, cheech).  

we laughed at uncle Charlie's funny old childhood story, we listened to lovely music; and, simultaneously, there was always someone jumping up from their dinner to check on Mimi, and help her as much as possible. 

it was this seamless dance between time and eternity.  the girls gathered in mimi’s room as mom and aunt Julie did her arduous bedtime prep.  i held her hand as they were busy going to and fro and talked to her of aunt Julie and how they have been together for all these years and asked her what time aunt Julie was born.  she said 3 AM.  aunt Julie laughed and said “yeah, i put her through labor all night and then finally showed up at 3”.  i asked if she remembered holding her little sweetness the day she was born and this beautiful small smile of remembering appeared on her face that only a mother could have when thinking of the birth of one of her little loves.

all her smiles have a tinge of heaven on them now.  they are so peaceful and sweet.  we waltzed back to the table so aunt Julie could open her gifts, and Rachie gave her a beautifully restored photo of Mimi.  there were tears of sadness and joy mixed on my lovely aunt’s face.  and then we waltzed back in and surrounded Mimi as we sang happy birthday to her little Julia.

she had that smile on her face again.  she was a part of a normal thing we humans do. it was connected to every birthday party she ever threw for her little girl, and every birthday song she has sung to her since that day she first held Julie in her arms.  it was happy.  it was bursting with love and meaning and hope.  

then we got a call from the night caretaker saying she couldn’t come in because she was very sick.  and my wonderful father, without batting an eye, rallied the troops who were all sitting mouths agape as to what could be done.  without a thought, he quickly divvied up the night into shifts for us to take to care for Mimi.  

what at first felt like a disaster quickly showed itself for what it truly was:  the Beloved had gift wrapped for each of us a chance to serve Him and love Him.  we each received a 2 hour slot to be with Mimi and care for her needs in the dark night.  and i discovered anew that we are, indeed, family.  we were united in this communion of wills to care for our mother, or grandmother, or mother-in-law; and help make her transition from this life to the next comfortable and most of all, with someone who loves her by her side.  we cannot follow her into that Life yet, perhaps, but we can lay next to her and hold her hand and roll her over in her bed and feed her ice chips and rub her back and pray the Chaplet with her until she goes forth into Light inaccessible. 

as St. Paul said today in the second reading at Mass:

“But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness,
for that day to overtake you like a thief.
For all of you are children of the light
and children of the day.
We are not of the night or of darkness” 1 Thessalonians 5: 1-6

and thus, on my Resurrection day walk, i decided to focus on one of my greatest happinesses in this life: light.  and the light was quite obliging. 

 i love to photograph nature, but even more, i love to photograph people in nature and out of doors.  for better or for worse, i am the only human (generally speaking) that go on these walks with me right now, thus the human that i photograph most often is me.  one day, i’m hoping that shall change, but until then, there i be.  

i cannot tell you the thrill that this light through the trees gives me

and the golden filled bowl that the sunset fills up every night on my beloved street offers me is too sweet

and those colors alternating pastel and vibrant neons is more than i can take...almost

i am inhaling texas sky with all my might and squirreling away as much texas sunshine for the east coast winter awaiting my return. 

please note the neighbors busting out their Christmas spirit spirit a leeetle early...not that i don't love it anyway

 it makes me shiver just a-thinkin about it. so i won’t.  

please continue to pray for Mimi and my momma and her family.  though we are filled with this beauty of anticipating the perfect Love and Joy awaiting Mimi, it does not banish the sadness in our hearts for the thought of soon being without her in this life.  

remember, we are children of light.  so shine, baby.  shine on.