If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough. —Meister Eckhart

Our pre-Thanksgiving is over and others are still preparing for theirs.

Dad is in Home Hospice and we moved the table into the living room so that we were all in the same room for dinner.  He doesn't come to the table any more.  We reminded each other that it is not what is on the table, but who is around the table.

It is difficult to realize that this is his last Thanksgiving.  We will never have him with us in a physical sense, but he will always be with us.  He will continue to be with us in the shared memories and stories we tell over the years.  A piece of him will live on in each of us in the depths of our hearts.

There is so much to be grateful for this year.  The time we sped together, the laughter and the tears.  It is all a reminder that we are finite beings and our time on this planet is limited.

The care of our Dad is a joyful duty that will never come close to repaying, all that he has given us and continues to give us.

Lord, when I become
lost in my self
help me to remember
that I am simple the vessel
and that You are the Potter.
~Cindy

Angels Among Us

Today's reading is from Isaiah 58:10

If you bestow your bread on the hungry
and satisfy the afflicted;
Then light shall rise for you in the darkness,
and the gloom shall become for you like midday.








Of late I have been meditating on the Spiritual and Corporal Works of Mercy.  This Sunday's Readings and the songs reflected just how we are to live our lives by being examples in the world.  We often say that there are angels among us and I have proof.  Angles have been working in my life for a long time, but of late I have been making them work overtime.

Who are these angels?  They are the countless strangers that prayed for Michael and I during his illness and after his passing.  They are the friends and family who reached out in ways that I can not even begin to remember or thank fully.

Michael always called my sister his Guardian Angel.  She was and she continues to care for him and for me.  She provides me with bread and meals every weekend.  I take my Widow's Bag as does her sister-in-law and her family fills it with leftovers from the meal that they just shared with us.  Now we have meals for two more days.  My sister's family let's me laugh and talk and remember Michael.  I feel loved.

My parents who stayed with Michael, Cynthia and I during that last month of his life.  Who were there with us each hour and moment as he passed.  They stood beside me to uplift me, to grieve with me, to care for me.

My daughter, Cynthia who slept with me those first few very lonely nights and puts up with my moods and neediness.  My daughter, Sarah who calls me and lets me know she is thinking of me.

My brothers who have always been there for me.  Even though miles separate us, we close in heart.

And last but not least, my prayer partner.  Her ongoing love and prayers have been a lifeline for me.  The day after Michael's internment she opened her house as a refuge.  She cooked, she mothered, she let me sit in silence or talk as needed.  You are my angel and my Martha.

So are there angels among us if only we open our eyes.