December 14, 2012
Yasmin is yelling at her
friend, Nina thru the door of the bathroom off the diningroom “What are you
doing?””Going to the bathroom””Why are you taking soooo long?” “I am pooping”
“NOOO! You can’t poop in THAT bathroom, stop, come out, what are you doing?”…Who
knew one couldn’t poop in the hallway bathroom? Oops!
Drove in the bucketing
rain to a nearby Church Bizarre to find a pair of shorts for the beach this
afternoon. Heard of the disastrous CT shootings on the radio news. Incredulous.
We all sat in stunned silence. Difficult to explain events of our culture and the
severe lack of gun control, in spite of the numerous similar killings, to the
Brasilians accompanying me to the church sale. I entered the beautiful serene
sacred space in the rectory to consider the families and friends who mourn
their tremendous loss and the children and staff that suffered such great
heartache and terror. Sending waves of sympathy across the waters.
This experience of
mourning is far more important than my not being able to explain to one of my
teen students on Facebook tonight that I do not have a real home to go to, that
I do not have a job with a steady paycheck, no dresser full of all season clothes,
no pristine bathroom with a cozy “Home Sweet Home” bath towel hanging on the
rack behind the door, no Cheerios box half full of “O’s” decaying in the kitchen
cupboard, no forwarding address to send my erratic pieces of mail when I leave
the country. Home, I discovered ages ago, is truly where I am in that moment. Home
is being with close friends to discuss the fragility of life and how much we
love one another and share in the grief of others.
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