Awake August 2016 - Thirteenth

Awake at my workday time

Today is a day off

Excuse me, I have an indulgence nap due

#AwakeAugust

This is edited from a Facebook post a year ago:

Never underestimate the power of a hug. 

Tragedy hit the family of dear friends, and I took sandwich fixin's and myself to their home the following afternoon. 

Here in the mountains, that is what we do. We drive across the ridges and through the hollows, toting cakes and casseroles and loaves of bread to people who are hurting. 

I felt ill-prepared for that afternoon journey, and made a pound cake that night to take to them the following day. 

Anyway, as I was headed back home I contemplated (as I am wont to do when I drive). It occurred to me that when we carry food in to grieving families there are layers of meaning. We know we cannot alleviate the pain, or traverse that horrific path of grief for others.

We can feed them, however, a tangible expression of the connection and concern we have for our friends and neighbors. 

And it gives us the opportunity to hug. 

To clasp the hurting heart close to our breast, and wrap arms of love and compassion around them. 

To feel the wet heat of another's tears on our cheek or neck, and let them sob against our shoulder. 

In this, we take on for a brief moment a small small portion of the weight they have been encumbered with, if only for a few minutes, to ease the crushing grief and perhaps give them a chance to catch their breath. 

The hug is what feeds the hurt, not the peanut butter sandwiches or the pound cake.

The food is the conveyance of something far more precious.

The food brings the comforter and the grief-stricken together, for the healing to begin.

The Meaning behind the meaning ...

"Is there good rubber on those tires?"

A frequent query from my father regarding my transportation.

I last heard those words in late Winter of 1986. I had driven 1037 miles, from Fort Pierce FL to my hometown here in the mountains of southwest Virginia to attend the funeral of my mother's mother, MawMaw Slade. I had made the trip alone, and being just months into my 27th year, I still carried the arrogance of youth and the blind belief in the reliability of cars and equipment that was old and worn. dWhat I id not know, that day, that in two months we would have buried PawPaw Slade and Daddy as well.

The first few months of 1986 were very rough.

Daddy was ill, complications of diabetes, and I was getting ready to drive back to my home in Florida after the funeral. Mom had already gone to work, and I had packed the car and was ready to leave when I went to his bedroom to say my goodbyes. He was not given to saying, "I love you." Not really his style, but he always made sure we had plenty of fuel and reliable tires when we travelled.

"Is there good rubber on those tires?" was his way of saying "I love you. Be careful."

I just did not realize it at the time.

Humankind is hurting, and our precious Earth is as well. There is grieving all about us, and hugs being ached for. There are lonely people who just need to know someone cares if their lawn will be cared for, or whether the spare tire in the trunk will share the load if pressed into service.

I have a vision of Earth, healed ... hug the hurting, listen to the lonely,

be kind