I am the utter poverty of God. I am God's emptiness, littleness, nothingness, lostness. When this is understood, my life in God's freedom, the self-emptying of God in me, is the fullness of grace. -- Thomas Merton
When the tears quit, I walk slowly and take the elevator to the sixth floor to raid the nourishment refrigerator in the clinic. Grape juice, cheese stick and crackers. While I am walking down the hall of the clinic, I think about my dad, died March 31, 2009. For the first time, I am grateful. Dad would never have wanted to see me this way. It would have hurt him so bad. And, my mother's journey with Alzheimer's. In ways, she is insulated from the hurts of her children. I find a seat for me and my snacks without worrying about where I have to go or what I have to do knowing that I have no other choice right now than to sit down and replenish before I'm able to take one more step. I watch the view on Lake Union until my body gains the strength to rise. Buy a newspaper and call a cab to return to the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance House. Returning to life. Legs wobbling but without need of cane. I'm moving slow but I'm moving.