community

i received two messages today.

the first one--a very exciting message that a friend's brother is returning to his wife and children here in the states after being deported wrongfully years ago.

the second one--a very sad message that a friend's friend and mentor is in the last days of her life after a courageous battle with cancer.

what is the same about these two messages? not a lot, though i would like to be able to reach out to both of them and squeeze them and sit with them in the waiting. so much of life is in the waiting. waiting for? something.

the big things? the big things come and go. it's the moments in between where so much of life happens--and when we need each other the most.

i'd bet someone you know needs a squeeze or a little hand-holding. we don't do life alone, but in community. and we can find our community anywhere, sometimes when we least expect it.

when my parents were hit head-on in a car crash in 2006, i found myself in a very strange community. a community of strangers in a ICU waiting room. ron was a man i first noticed one early morning--day two of my dad's ordeal. he was yelling at another man at about 3:00 in the morning. i was dozing on two chairs that i had smushed together. he pretended to call someone on his cell. he was a terrible actor. but he was scared and alone. later that morning he sort of tried to apologize to me--for the ruckus. no apology necessary. we were all in situations that we wished we weren't in. we all had lost control, control we all believe we have when life is flowing smoothly. ron's wife was in ICU with my dad for complications after a hysterectomy. he had four daughters. but, most days and every night he was alone. i asked him to sit with us. another group had lots of drama--fighting, yelling, screaming--pretty much daily and sometimes, nightly. it was a big family. they had decisions to make. they all thought they should be the decision maker. then one day, there was lots of commotion. a decision was made. by their person. the dad, husband, step-dad, grandpa, brother, uncle they had all been waiting for was dying. judy ran around the waiting room trying to get any cell reception. i gave her my phone and then physically caught her when she collapsed after telling her son that her father-in-law was dying....right now. the father-in-law she had told me days before, was more of a dad to her than her own father. later that night she found me in my dad's room--poking her head in she asked to talk to me. she hugged me for a really long time. you never know when you might be someone else's community. you never know that the little things you do may be what helps carry someone while they wait. you don't have to have the perfect words--or any words at all. sometimes, you just have to show-up for someone. however you can.


best
deborah

melancholy yet hopeful

mid-term elections today. i will be sure to vote. big red has already returned from the polls.

my grandma worked the voting centers when i was a little girl. my grandpa would drive her to the school early in the morning and pick her up late. (they had just the one car)

my favorite shirt as a kid, was a sweatshirt with the word *vote* printed across the chest in red, white and blue. a hand-me-down, for sure, probably from one of my cousins.

i remember the last mid-term election day, clearly-- probably better than most everyone else. it wasn't november 2nd, it was november 7, 2006. i can tell you what i was wearing, what i ate and what was on oprah. no, i wasn't running for a seat in any county that day.

my boys had a half day of school--we went out to lunch (taco bell) and did a little shopping. i wore jeans and a long sleeved grey t-shirt and my brand new coat, a black and cream houndstooth. both boys needed new basketball shoes. we were going to head to the outlet mall not far from home after lunch. but, i felt like going home. i didn't want to head to the outlet--we returned home. oprah had the cast of *bobby* on. i teared up a bit when they talked about the kennedy brothers.

then the phone rang.

and life changed.

my parents were returning home from visiting my aunt in the hospital--she had had surgery a few days before. my dad wanted to get home in time to vote. on a two lane road another driver, crossed the center lane and hit my parents car head-on. the other driver, ripped the entire driver's side of the car off--the side where my 6'6" dad sat.

my dad didn't vote that mid-term. he was revived in an ambulance on the way to the hospital and had emergency surgery that day. he received 26 units of blood within the first 24 hours and had a bruised heart and lung, 7 cracked ribs, his pelvis was broke in 2 places in front and 3 in the back. his spleen was cracked and removed, as was part of his stomach. he had a deep and wide laceration on his neck/jaw and countless scraps and cuts. within a few days all his bruises showed up purple and connected to each other. his entire body was bruised--entire. he remained in a coma for 11 days. his doctors did not smile when talking with us. they referred to him as a very very critical man. i made them use his name.

did the doctors and nurses believe he would live? no, they looked at his hospital bracelet and read his age and knew his injuries and thought his chances were slim.

when i ran into the hospital that afternoon, i was still wearing my * i voted* sticker.

i'm feeling a bit melancholy today. i always do on election days, but it doesn't keep me home.

"When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand the data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a pulse."--paul hawken

best
deborah