Hope

I promised myself I would get up and write first thing this morning. It's 6:08 and my vision is still a little blurry, as are my thoughts. It sounds like it's raining outside. I guess I can't complain after the beautiful summer like weather we've had for early April (92 degrees last Wednesday).

I went to my girlfriend's mother's wake last night. She passed away at noon on Easter Sunday. My friend is going through the motions but I know her brain hasn't had a chance to wrap itself around what's happened yet. She's still in shock mode... "We went to go pick her up because she was coming to spend the week with us to help celebrate (her daughter's) birthday. The decorations are still up, her place setting is still set at the dining room table!" "One minute we're driving to the E.R. because she has a pain and the next she's gone. I still can't believe I'm talking about her in the past tense." Wow. How life can change in a moment's time.

I went to a beautiful outdoor sunrise Easter service at a local park this year. It was 6:30 a.m. and as you entered the park you could hear the sound of a trumpet blowing, then came silence, then out of the silence came the low moan of a bagpipe playing Amazing Grace. When the bagpipe was finished there was a moment to breathe it all in, when all you could hear was the cheerful sound of birds greeting daybreak as people set up their lawn chairs. The backdrop for this service was the city of Hartford off in the distance with the early morning fog hovering over the tops of the buildings. I've never seen the city look so peaceful.

A man from one of the area churches welcomed us and then another man began to sing "Morning has broken..." in an absolutely heavenly voice. Representatives from various churches came to the podium one by one to speak their truth on this Easter morning but none touched me so deeply as the woman who spoke of Mother Mary's pain when it came time for her to say goodbye to Jesus. Mary had no clue what was to come and her pain was deep. Then this woman spoke of the joy, the elation, the light that came from the horrible darkness. We all sang and gave thanks.

I decided to go to the cemetary after the service to see my mom. I hadn't been there since Christmas time (thank you to whoever removed the mini Christmas tree!) and it was definitely an emotional visit. I left some daffodils, a little medal cross and a marshmallow peep (which I'm sure some critter enjoyed immensely). I had myself a good cry and as I left, my thoughts turned toward Mother Mary. The pain, the joy, the light and the resurrection of hope. No matter how difficult our journey becomes, the resurrection of hope is always on our side.

xo,
Carrie