Yeah, I know--I still have the glow of a 10 day retreat of sorts where few of the problems back home reached my cell phone--except a dozen regarding a botched printing job for my private client, the St. Thomas More Law Society of Los Angeles. It was resolved thanks to a lot of help from the marketing director at Morris, Polich & Purdy. Thanks, Susie.
But, I have only two weeks left before I go back to work and I thought I'd do a vacation catch-up today--laundry, phone calls, e-mails, grocery shop, etc. Instead, my daughter came by, who I don't see very often, and she had taken a day off work. I hadn't seen my granddaughter's dorm room at her local college yet, so we called her and she had cut her finger badly last night requiring multiple stitches and had a down day without soccer practice. She was so glad to see us! The college she is attending, Cal State Dominguez Hills, is where I received my bachelor's and master's degrees--and I had worked there four years early in my career. The dorms were being built when I worked there--and she was living in one now with three other girls. Amazing! We went out for a really big breakfast and then began a shopping tour to get the linens and accessories for her room. Around 3 p.m. we came home we came home from our intergenerational bonding of "the girls." My daughter and granddaughter curled up in a little ball together and fell asleep on the futon. I had watched the PBS series of Dr. Christiane Northrup's "Mother Daughter Wisdom" while on vacation, and I kept flashing back to healing what she calls "the legacy." It was simply a precious set of hours spent together.
At 4 p.m. I was due at my little grandson's home for my Monday hours of "play time" with Grandma, and little Henry and Fritz were in absolutely rare form. I'll post photos another day. I'm what would be called a zany grandma, I guess, so though I sometimes have a hard time getting up from the floor, I love to get right down there with them. I had so damned much fun playing trains, trucks--and trying out Henry's new "car wash" for his dozens of vehicles.
I came home just in time to have the journal group at my home I have one night a month--and it was such a doggoned down-to-earth evening with some very deep sharing going on--and Cookie chewing a pig hoof nearby. All of us, in spite of some serious problems (one woman's 15-year partner had died on Saturday night) ultimately ended up writing about our points of gratefulness.
These were the last sentences in my journal final entry tonight: "After 10 days of retreat, though I did go to concerts, hiking, shopping, dined with old and new friends, had long evenings of philosophical discussion, the week was essentially about "me." I was in my own well--I hadn't attempted to trespass into anyone else's well, or contaminate it with my control issues. Today, so unexpectedly, it was all about family but enterwined with a grateful "me" who was kind of blown away by the simplicity and closeness -- and lots of laughing -- that we did. And now we journalers met--all of us with our stories--so very, very aware of all of our sacred stories."
The tag line on my e-mail says, "Sanctuary Center: A Place to Tell Our Sacred Stories." Though I had meant always to have a spiritual bed and breakfast here in my later years, sanctuary is a lot more these many long months for family and very close friends. My dreams have materialized for this place I called home, just not in the form I had originally anticipated. Prayers are like that, aren't they? God answers yes, no--or how about looking at things a new way?
