Monday, September 3, 2012

Under the Light of a Silvery Moon

The golden saucer hung low in the sky, glowing brightly, outshining the stars. We leaned back in our Muskoka chairs on the dock, heads tilted skyward, gazing silently at the breathtaking beauty. Diamonds danced across the water and a perfect reflection of the moon cast a response upwards.

What a moon! What a sight to behold. The season of change has had a brilliant introduction.

And while we moon gazed, life in our family is changing.

She has seen and survived war and destruction; immigration and persecution; and poverty and pain. And in her almost 92 years she has raised four boys to men, nurtured grandchildren, ran a nursery school, supported herself and maintained  a stoic matriarchal position in a growing family. She wages war on diabetes in a sightless existence and sadly, she will succumb to the ravages of the disease. But she will not go quietly into the night - as that is not her way. What she has endured is not for the faint of heart; her iron will and stubborn reluctance is her resilience. She has said she is not afraid - just afraid of being alone.

She is nearing the end of her journey and the time spent holding her hand while she rests is a privilege - and does not go unnoticed. Her sporadic jolts into the here and now that produce a random "I love you" or "thank you for everything you do" spoken with her heavy German accent are our reward. Her heavy laughter after my heartfelt attempt at singing "Goodnight Irene" is precious, and means the world.

We love and are loved. And over a lifetime, we can only hope that the circle of love we have cultivated will be there to sustain us in our darkest hour. And if we are really fortunate, we will have a chorus of tender farewells to usher us over to our hereafter.


1 comment:

  1. My heart has constantly wept this past month on the continuous never-ending pain suffered, but now focuses on a painfree journey rounding its last bend. Thank you for such a love-filled emotional tribute/salute to our Bumma entitled 'under the light of a silvery moon'. The heavens await their angel Irene.

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