Today was rough. I'm not sure why - but it started when Ella crawled into bed with us, crying because "my legs hurt!", and basically disrupted an otherwise normal night of sleep. As a result we were all a crabby mess this morning.
After the tragedy of last Friday's shooting I vowed never to scold my kids or speak to them angrily in the morning before they headed off to school for the day, imagining how horrible a parent might feel if their last words to their kid had been "Why can't you remember to make your bed in the morning?" I forgot that vow this morning when Jack was unable to find his jacket, his BRAND NEW jacket that we bought less than a week ago. I ranted and raved about responsibility, putting things back where they belong, keeping track of your belongings, blah, blah, blah. Unfortunately I did this about two minutes before the kids were out the door so the damage was done. I tried to give Jack a hug to take back the last thirty seconds of scolding and admonishing but it was too late. He pulled away and left, not looking back and leaving me with a sinking feeling in my chest.
That feeling became heavier as the day went on and nothing went right for me for several hours. A quick stop at the store became an exercise in patience as none of the self-check registers were functioning and the rest of the registers had lines five to six deep. My anticipated lunch break at my favorite pita shop turned sour when I realized four bites in that my hummus veggie pita was filled with chicken and soggy lettuce. Every parking lot I tried to park in was full. All I kept thinking to myself was "Get over it. At least your children are alive and well and accounted for. GET OVER IT!"
It's hard to get out of a funk once you're in it. But little by little, I crawled my way out. I opened my eyes and forced myself to take in the world around me. And the world pulled me back up to where I needed to be.
It happened as I trudged through an endless maze of hallways at a retirement community where I happened to have two patients scheduled today. I was walking as if I had sand bags tied to my legs - the taste of the ruined pita sandwich still lingering in my mouth. Each resident has a little ledge outside their apartment door which they can decorate any way they like. Today I took a moment to look around and was amazed by what I saw.
One lady had a school bag hanging over her ledge with the words "RIP Sandy Hook" written across it. Taped to her door was a photocopy of a poem and as I looked more closely, I realized it was the same poem my mother had emailed me that same morning. Here's what it said:
Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
those children all flew into the arms of their King.
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad."
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"May this country be delivered from the hands of fools"
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"
Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran,
all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."
Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf , PA
I thought I might start crying right there in the hallway of the retirement community and I wondered how many times I'd walked right past this door. As I continued on my way I felt that heavy pressing feeling begin to subside. It was still there, but not as much.
Then another amazing thing happened. I'd finished with my last appointment and was making my way down yet another hallway when I happened upon the studio of the community's own television station. I heard a guitar strumming and as I peeked in the doorway I saw an elderly man sitting on a chair, bathed in bright light with cameras pointed at him and a live picture of him on the television screen on the wall in front of him. As I stood there he began to sing . . .
"Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains,Shenandoah River . . ."
He was singing Country Roads - I love that song. I suddenly felt a huge smile spreading across my face and I just stood there and listened, hiding behind the corner of the wall like a little kid. After a few minutes I left. As I walked out to my car I realized the heavy pressing feeling was completely gone.
I picked up my kids a little while later. Jack and I shared a big hug in the kitchen and we both apologized to each other - he for not keeping track of his things and me for not keeping my temper in check. The four of us ended the evening watching "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown" as Ella helped me finish up the Christmas cards. I looked around me and realized that my crappy day had turned into a really good one.
In the midst of darkness there is always light. We just have to look for it.
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