Thursday, July 7, 2011

trust 101

she's taken to waiting for me in the mornings.
and i finally realize i have to readjust my schedule,
as i know this matters. a lot.

and yet that scares me.

not the rearranging the schedule...
altho, that's a little tough that early in the morning...
but i'll figure it out.

but the fact that it matters a lot.
that part scares me.

she sits on her bench.
i lean against her car, standing/slouching in front of her.
it's hard for her to turn her neck and talk. or to look up.

so i kinda lean and slouch.

there's a clean spot on her car where i lean.
the pollen's been rubbed off.
i look at it, grin, and slide into it.

this morning i was greeted with 'you're late!'
which i was.
and she laughed and told me she was late too and came
out and looked around a bit for me, sure she had missed me.

i now understand that if i miss her on my walks,
i need to check in later in the day.
this is new.
i haven't done daily check ins before.
and i think it's time.

i get it's not 'me.'
i get that.
i get it's company she can count on.
someone in her day.
something to look forward to.
a break in the aloneness.

as i walked away this morning, waving and joking as i headed
down her driveway, i was feeling uncomfortable.

i walked fast.
looked down at the road.
thinking hard.

her eyes.
when she looks at me.
she looks like a little girl.
she trusts me so much.
she's getting more and more vulnerable.

i walked fast.
why does that scare me?

cause she counts on me, i thought.

i can't take it away from her, i answered.
feeling pained.

she's not looking at you for that, i answered the answer.

i think of those eyes.
somehow they're getting more child like.
and i think of what's ahead for her.
and i'm scared for her.

the loneliness.
the suffering.

and i can't take it away from her.

yesterday i noticed the alzheimer's more than i ever have before.
it rattled me and stayed with me all day.

i walked faster, stared at the ground harder.

i marvel at how guy-like i am sometimes when i get so filled with
wanting to fix things for people and so frustrated i can't.

i'm stepping into a new part of the journey, i said to my panic.

and while you're doing this for her, it won't be for her.
you're gonna learn some more about love.

cause i hate the fact that i can't take her struggle and her pain
away from her. and i don't want to sit and watch it get worse.

i'd like to slip away and let someone else do the daily visits.

i really would.
and yet, inside my heart, i know i just committed to them.

i don't know how to love people and just watch their pain.

i suck at that.

i want to change it, take it away, fix it.

why the big push inside me?

do i not trust the process?
do i not trust in others' resources?

do i not trust.

hmmmmm....guess not as much as i'd like to think.

looks like it's time for a course in trust.
and i do believe my heart signed up this morning......
i could tell by the panic i felt.


Cathy said...

Oh what a blessing! It is hard to commit, that's what our culture has taught us. Along with the fear that this will take life from us rather than give life to us.

It's hard to have that voice of a little panic inside of us, a little denial and then a rush of love.

And yet, isn't that what each of us crave for ourselves...someone who will watch for us, miss us if we don't show up? It's not the same as the children we've birthed, they will always watch for us and miss us, and we them. This is the kind of love that comes even though we don't HAVE to. We want to be loved by someone who WANTS to love us...whether our memory of ourself or others fade, whether the blue periods last longer than we want, whether we become unable to walk the walk and yet still wait for the knock at the door.

Trust question is do we receive it as well as give it? And how do we give it if we don't have it? And how do we live without it if we don't trust it?

Monica Devine said...

This piece is so touching and honest and heartfelt...I can almost feel your pain feeling her pain. Enjoy your site.

Brigitte / La de Ojos Azules said...

I'm speechless... both from your post Terri and your comments Cathy. I'm right there with both of you. All this speaks to something very deep inside of me. I'm a "rescuer" and I need to fix what's wrong with those I love. Yet I know this is not always possible. Actually, it's not up to ME to fix them, they need to fix themselves. It's part of their journey, not mine. And that's the hardest part. I know exactly what you mean Terri about not being able to sit back and watch someone's pain. I suck at that, too. So much so that I end up taking on that pain as if it were my own. But you're right Cathy, we have to show up for that, because it IS a blessing and we have to get over our fear that it "will take life from us rather than give life to us." That is SO true. Your questions, Cathy, really struck a chord... how DO we receive it as well as give it; how do we live it if we don't/can't trust the process? But how do we give it if we don't have it? I think we DO have it to give, we just have to trust...