Now that my mother’s gone, I remember her sayings with more reverence than eye rolling. Like the one about women having to be beautiful and men … just a little bit better than a monkey. Or like the one about marriage being more or less like a hand reaching into a dark closet … not really knowing who you’ve got. But the one that’s resonated most for me these last few months is how we really don’t know what’s going on in other people’s lives, appreciate our blessings and not yearn for someone else’s good fortune.
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By the rules of coincidence or maybe bad planning, I wound up visiting with four sets of friends over four weekends. The first quartet of spa buddies got together to rally round a friend with cancer and treat her to a long weekend in Santa Fe following her last chemotherapy session. The second trip brought me back into the sphere of middle school friends, two of whom I haven’t seen in nearly 40 years. I was sad to learn that one had MS and another was a victim of childhood abuse, yet once again I was moved by the groups’ rallying round with compassion and love and promises to have a reunion again next year.
The next weekend, I was at a cousin’s 60th birthday with relatives and friends. Most of them are still married, kids and grandchildren and seemingly happy. But one cousin is still suffering from Agent Orange skin disease acquired during his stint in Vietnam and his inability to work continues to strain his resources and his marriage. Yet we all came together not just for the 60th but also to be in the aura of our 94 year old matriarch. Finally, dinner with a friend in Florida and her grown daughter who has a sweet and healthy new baby. The news making part of that story was that she had breast cancer while she was pregnant and was able to ultimately deliver a healthy baby.
A month of blessings indeed. The wonder and love of friends for each other, families that see the clock ticking and gather round for celebrations, health and stability and most of all … realizing how right my mother was.
Eileen Marcus