Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/nvhPCkZEETg/
“What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?” ~Jean-Jacques Rousseau
On February 21, 2009, I received a phone call that would alter the course of my life. It was my sister, and I could barely make out what she was saying. My mom was in the hospital and had received a diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer.
My body absorbed the news before my brain did. Since I had lost my ability to reason, from someplace beyond me I found a way to keep functioning. I asked my sister to put my mom on the phone.
What could I say?
Nothing.
There was nothing to say to comfort her. She was heading into the final unknown of life and I couldn’t do a thing to help her.
As soon as we hung up, I was out the door to the airport.
I hate to fly.
Somehow, I made the trip and two remarkable friends greeted me. I hadn’t seen them in a long time.
It didn’t matter. This was a crisis. What do you do in a crisis? You show up.
They hugged me and we headed to their car. My sad, little carry-on luggage trailed behind me in a precarious zigzag. The ice of the Midwest was testing my luggage’s mettle while the end of everything tested mine.
I was a complete mess. I had to constantly reach within myself to get to the beyo…
Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/nvhPCkZEETg/
“What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?” ~Jean-Jacques Rousseau
On February 21, 2009, I received a phone call that would alter the course of my life. It was my sister, and I could barely make out what she was saying. My mom was in the hospital and had received a diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer.
My body absorbed the news before my brain did. Since I had lost my ability to reason, from someplace beyond me I found a way to keep functioning. I asked my sister to put my mom on the phone.
What could I say?
Nothing.
There was nothing to say to comfort her. She was heading into the final unknown of life and I couldn’t do a thing to help her.
As soon as we hung up, I was out the door to the airport.
I hate to fly.
Somehow, I made the trip and two remarkable friends greeted me. I hadn’t seen them in a long time.
It didn’t matter. This was a crisis. What do you do in a crisis? You show up.
They hugged me and we headed to their car. My sad, little carry-on luggage trailed behind me in a precarious zigzag. The ice of the Midwest was testing my luggage’s mettle while the end of everything tested mine.
I was a complete mess. I had to constantly reach within myself to get to the beyo…
What Do You Think?
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