On Tuesday night I watched All Saints. It had a death in it, and the brother says to the sister, ‘you have to let me go’. And I was overwhelmed by that.
Overwhelmed most in particular, thinking of my children.
Here I am in what looks like a very dodgy situation. But how could I ever say those words to my 9 year old, 14 year old, 18 year old?
So in keeping with my open approach to religious practices, I had a Judaic debate with God. I know very little about such debates, but I know that Judaism does have a practice where you can argue with and even berate God – and if anyone needs such a practice, I’d say that Jews should certainly be entitled to it.
So I let God be outside of me and berated God for even considering that such an event should take place. I made it as clear as I could that this is NOT ACCEPTABLE, no matter how bad it looks.
I have a life full of blessings, and my three children are the greatest of these. Each of them is a gift in my life – but what is the point of giving such a gift, and then taking away from them what they need?
So we had a serious discussion. I hope it helps. There are some things I have no interest in detaching from. Most particularly life.
Hospital views 1 – when is a snowshield not a snowshield?
Lying here on the third floor of Royal Darwin Hospital, flat on my back, I can see a narrow strip of sky. It takes up about 1/5 of the two half wall window panes. The other 4/5 is the pebbled overhang that juts out, in long rows, above the windows. I’ve been told the design is the same as the Canberra Hospital, and that that is the same as a Canadian hospital, and that these overhangs are actually snowshields. Snowshields. It’ll be a cold day in hell when we need those in Darwin. Western architectural design works in mysterious ways.
However. They probably are also good for cyclone protection, and perhaps even help screen the windows from too much heat.
Snowshields really are multi-faceted objects.
Hospital views 2 – wet season skies
I can see that strip of sky, and the strip of sky is wonderful. It is packed full of entertainment, much more reliable than the TV. This morning I watched the red light etch up from my window-horizon, and light fingers stroked the narrow strips of cloud in the ungreying sky. This morning, the sky is very pale, white even, with so few clouds, only a hint of blue. Yesterday, this time, there were lots of puffy clouds, with brilliant blue all around, and dark grey on the horizon. Then in less than half an hour the grey grew, darkened, blackened, ate up the white puffs. I saw the sweeping rainwater with its dense and light patches, advancing, until the snowshields couldn’t keep the rain off the windows any more and my view became rainwater trickling down the panes. The streaks are still there today.
And last night, just after dark, there was a lightning storm in the distance, dancing everywhere through the darkness.
And when I sit up, I can see some of Darwin’s beautiful tree-filled north, and watch the trees sway and pulse with the wind and rain.
How lucky to have such a view and the time and nature to appreciate it.
Joie de vivre
I feel I am overflowing with joie de vivre. How can that be, in this situation??? But I am. I am so happy to be alive, to be here, even in hospital. I am surrounded by an abundance of loving and supportive people, my family, all branches, my friends, and the staff of this hospital. Everyone is on my side so very much, and it is so wonderful to be alive. I can see the sky, the weather, I have good books, movies, company. Everything is mightily excellent. The world is a wonderful place to be. Now the health and healing, God? But. Yes, it can come. I know it. Look how I heal now, even, so much better each day, so full of the joy of living.