Someone hurt me today. Last night actually. It was emotional hurt, the details don’t matter, we all have these bruises, those scabs that are picked at a moment’s notice without any forethought. I didn’t sleep well. I was in a strange bed and the cry of the loons across the lake were comfort but not peace.

I shook it off as I drove down the hills from the lake house. During the drive to my hospice client’s home, the day mapped out in my mind and I ran through my ‘to do’ check list. The road unfurled beneath the car; there is nothing like fresh hot top when you’ve struggled with frost heaves and pot holes for months. Breezing along I gathered steam on what seemed the important thoughts and tasks for the next twelve hours. If I couldn’t control the hurt in my heart, I could at least control the rest of my day.

He was back in bed, resting when I walked in. His greeting was genuine and warm. I sat on the side of his bed and held his hand as he struggled with the oxygen tubes, then untangled himself and agreed to head out to the garden room to sit for the morning.  At that point, the list faded like an old photo and time slowed to the rhythm of breath and light and movement. I had no control over anything but the mood, and it was, as always, thankful for the reminder to slow down.

I massaged his feet and rubbed his back, then we both just sat and watched the birds and the butterflies. He nodded off, a look of calm flowed from his slack face. I sank deeper into the moment and drifted to sleep. When I awoke (with that nasty muscle jolt that you hope no one else noticed) he was still dozing. Though I was silent when I stretched, he opened an ancient, clear green eye and winked. “You fell asleep!”

“It’s a tired day.” I replied softly.

“Yes, some days are tired days.”


10 thoughts on “Wisdom

  1. I am sorry to know that someone hurt you. That’s bad. However, your writing in English is so advanced that I don’t think I can finish reading your post with 80% of not understanding. Sorry for that too.

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