Saturday, March 6, 2010


Gratitude is a homely but effective antidote to despair.  Julia Cameron, "Finding Water"

"When you begin to slide into despair, " says Julia Cameron, "it is because you have lost your sense of grounding.  Therefore, the tool to apply is one of gentle well-being.  Put simply, your need is to count your blessings."  She goes on to instruct us to "take pen in hand..."  yep, another list.  Twenty-five things for which I am grateful.

1.  I love my kids.
2.  My kids love me.
3.  I am healthy.
4.  Anticipation is alive in me.
5.  All is well.

When sadness is overwhelming, Spirit does not leave the room.

6.  Those frogs!
7.  Rain, and more rain.
8.  Stars, bright after the rain, that coyote howl.
9.  That I can see, hear and smell the rain, the frogs, the coyote.
10.  The long husband snoring softly in the other room, two cats curled with him.

I am grateful for life.  Last week my youngest son lost one of his dearest friends in a car accident.  His sadness has transformed and deepened him.  He has supported the parents with his presence, he has cried rivers.  He is contemplative, vulnerable.  He is picking up, and moving along.  The Memorial Service will be this coming Thursday.  He and his friend played T-ball on the same team, hung in there together and graduated from the alternative high school.  They understood one another.

It is difficult to understand things:  Life holds so much mystery.  There are a myriad of circumstances which make no sense what so ever.  As I write this I can hear some one speeding on our country road.  They are running through the gears, their engine is screaming, this is the second time that I have heard them as I write; the speeding car.  My son's friend was killed instantly, it was 2 a.m., on a rainy, foggy night, on a winding back road; the driver, his other best friend.

I have watched my youngest shed a skin these past days.  He will be 23 years old in a little over a month.

Mothers share tears.

I am grateful to know Love.


Joel said...

Laura, when I was a kid I would often go on tow calls with my dad since he had the AAA service in Ferndale. We saw the results of young people with too much horse power & too little sense. Sometimes I think much of the battle of raising children is just getting them past that age safely. It sounds like your son has learned a valuable lesson. It also sounds like he has a compassionate heart. That is a beautiful thing. Joel

Bimbimbie said...

Some lessons are the toughest to learn. Your son I'm sure, realises he's lucky to have you guide him through his pain.

Frogs and coyotees singing under the stars ... that's a lovely image *!*

Anonymous said...

I love your list and the way you've told the story of your son and his friend. Growth, loss, more growth. Thank you for posting this beautiful message.

Merry ME said...

Another beautiful post.
Your words speak to my heat.
I know I should follow your lead and list my blessings. I feel frozen. Perhaps like you son I need only to keep moving.

For right now I am blessed by a universe where blogs exist so the words I need to hear, that I can't say myself, keep coming to me in gentle waves like the proverbial ripples in a pond.

May God be with your son at this time of his deep loss.

Barbara said...

Beautiful...simply beautiful. Your compassion and understanding is wonderful. Please keep up the good work. I always close my own blog with "Count your blessings"...and I truly believe in it. God bless you and yours.

N2 said...

Beautiful plum blossoms dripping rain tears and beautiful post on the growth of your son.

I am grateful to have your artistry and friendship in my life.

x0x0 N2

Kim and Victoria said...

That's so hard. He could easily have been any of our sons. I'm so grateful to still have mine, even when he makes me crazy.

Ruth Cardin said...

I cry with you- children are so very precious and it is hard to understand why we lose them to something so pointless as a car crash. I lost my baby brother to an accident- a stupid no fault tragic accident- when he was 16. It still hurts, 33 years later. I cry with you, and my heart aches, and somewhere in there, lies a beauty so profound that it mirrors the miracle of the frogs, and the raindrops, and yes, the gratitude list grows...
Love you, Ruth

Friko said...

a lovely post, full of hope, joy and sadness.
perhaps I will have to make my own list.

Bethany said...

Your photos took my breath away, this writing too. So so sorry about your son's friend. Love your list.

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