Sunday, January 22, 2017

“Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.”

~ Maya Angelou, Celebrations: Rituals of Peace and Prayer


After church we will travel a short way to spend more time with Gerry’s parents. His dad, the most diplomatic and respectful gentleman I have ever had the honour of knowing, is failing. His mom, at 96, is already feeling the loss of the man whose side she has been at for over three-quarters of a century.

With all the noise going on in the world, it is a stark contrast to spend time in the long-term care home where they live. All of the residents are closer to the end of lives than the beginning. Being with them helps sort through the chaff to what matters.

We sit. We pray. We help where we can, which isn’t all that much.

It’s hard. It’s draining. It’s a privilege to be there.

We love. And we pray.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. Linda, This post brought tears to my eyes. My memories are acute of sitting with mom at that age–until nearly 102. When they are gone, what a void it leaves. Blessings to you.

    1. The loss of our parents–regardless of the age–leaves a void that is a testimony to the impact they had on our life, doesn’t it? How wonderful that you had your mom with you for all those years, Martha. Still, that doesn’t lessen the loss we feel when we lose them. Hugs to you.

  2. Heartwarming. I remember my mom and dad in their later days. I love your blog. Thank you

    1. Thanks so much.

  3. Thinking of you … My Dad is 93 with vascular dementia and lives with us. Your last five sentences echo with me. And your photo is so nicely tranquil.

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