THE ROSE

 It's my second Thanksgiving morning without the love of my life, and I'm home alone; just Mozart and me.  The kids are all gone to run in the Turkey Trot, and I'm left with a couple of hours of being alone before the hubbub and festivity begins.  And, it's good to have some time for solitude and reflection. As I was this summer during my drive out to Oregon, I am comfortable being alone with myself.  It's something I'd rather not have had to become used to; I would so prefer to have Gwen questioning whether or not there will be enough food for all our guests and, in her own inimitable way, wondering if I shouldn't already have the turkey stuffed and in the oven.  And, please, don't put the giblets in the stuffing!

As I do every day, but especially on this day for giving thanks, I am grateful for the blessing of a loving family and friends who call to remind me that they are there.  

This will be another of those days when those of us who grieve put on the happy face and try to act like our old selves.  Grandchildren see through this act.  Yesterday at the movie, when Brooke first saw me, she didn't say a word, just opened her arms for a big hug.  Teenage  Nick loses his self-consciousness as he greets me with a hug.  This morning, as I sat in my chair with my cup of coffee, Izzy came behind me and wordlessly put her arms around my neck and head on my shoulder. .  "Mmmm.. ." was all she said.  She knew, with the intuition  that only the young possess: (Or, is it something placed in her heart by her grandmother before she left?) what was in my heart.  She saw through the facade and came to the core.  There is a real beauty in that, and it reminded me of a poem I read some time ago:

THE ROSE

by Meister Eckhart

The rose is without a why

She blooms because she blooms

She does not care for herself

Asks not if she is seen.

Tomorrow is called Black Friday, Dear, and for me, because you left us on a Friday, every Friday is a black Friday.  Yet, every day, as you did with Izzy this morning, you send me reminders that you are still with us.