Memories, Meanings and Lessons
For Life
by Eileen McDargh
Some places just feel like home even if you've
never lived there.
I can feel calm settle over me as I turn from the
highway and see
St. Joseph Convent perched in its solid position
above the
Pennsylvania Dutch countryside. Its three-story
arms spread across
the hill as if embracing the furrowed farmland
below. The
manure-covered fields puff pungent perfume into the
April morning
air. The dense pine trees planted by my grandfather
are almost as
tall as the bell tower. I don't remember the pink
and white dogwoods
that blush next to the retreat center but then
again, I have never
been here in spring. An emergency calls me here
now.
Could it have been 45 years ago I watched my
beautiful aunt walk
down the aisle and become a "Bride of Christ", a term
that kept my
eight year-old Catholic mind in puzzlement? I
remember the coolness of
the chapel and the stained glass colors dancing
across the pews. Could
it have been so long ago and after successive summer
visits, that my
twin brother and sister and I found the cows kept by
Sister Phillip,
the grotto walkway, the Lady of Lourdes statue and
chicken coops?
Could it have been so long ago that countless arms
swaddled in black
gauze reached to hug us against ample bosoms?
How strange it seemed that we had to meet
her-Auntie Pep now-called
Sister Mary Clare-in a small parlor with
uncomfortable velvet chairs.
Stranger too was hearing Nana and Pappaw call their
daughter, "Sister
Clare".
There was mystery behind all those doors marked
"private" just as
surely there must have been some secret hidden behind
the starched
headpiece and cowl and beneath the long black skirt
and veil. Yet for
all the mystery, my overwhelming sense was always one
of contentment
when I walked up the steep marble stairs to the entry
hall and
candlelit chapel.
The black habits are gone and I am staying in one
of the rooms
behind the private doors .I wear my bathrobe and
stand shoulder to
shoulder with nuns of all ages at a sink to spit
toothpaste and water.
I carry my tray into the dining room and laugh at
jokes around a
table. I know the security code to open the backdoor
and where the
yogurt is hidden in the big refrigerator. It is now a
different kind
of mystery.
What are the odds that my 86 year-old Florida-based mother would
fall while visiting her baby sister? What are the
odds that there
would be room down the hill in St. Anne's Home for
the Aged where
mother could recover from a multi-fractured hip? What
are the odds
that each one of her children could arrange schedules
to fly across
country and take turns caring for her and that the
convent would find
room for us? Mystery beyond mystery.
Psychologist Carl Jung would have called my
mystery,
"synchronicity". This fortuitous set of circumstances—"synchronicity"—is
fraught with meaning and it is my task to figure
the lessons.
Spending days between a health care setting where
many will never
leave due to infirmity and another home where women
stay because of
faith, I find these initial lessons the most
universal:
Lesson One: From breakdown comes build
up. Mom is getting
stronger in the weaker places of her body. She
still has more life
to live. We all have broken places to rebuild.
Lesson Two: Caring for the ending of life is
as precious as
caring for the beginning. May we learn to see its
beauty.
Lesson Three: Respectful listening is the
greatest gift we
give each other. No other species can verbalize its
experience and
feelings and have it held in sacred trust.
Lesson Four: Shared memories create a bond
as potent as fire.
A memory can either burnish or destroy. It's our
choice.
I've retraced my route and crossed the Susquehanna
River. I am
flying home to California from Baltimore with these
lessons packed in
my heart. Perhaps you might find them in a corner of
yours.
© Eileen McDargh, McDargh Communications. All rights reserved. You may reprint this article so long as it remains intact with the byline and if all links are made live.
Since 1980, Hall of Fame speaker Eileen McDargh has helped Fortune 100 companies as well as individuals create connections that count and conversations that matter. Her latest book is Gifts from the Mountain-Simple Truths for Life's Complexities. Her other books include Talk Ain't
Cheap...It's Priceless and Work for a Living and Still Be Free to Live, one of the first books to address the notion of balance and authentic work. A 59 year-old grandmother, she recently returned from climbing among the highest mountains in the world. Find out more about this compelling
and effective professional speaker and join her free newsletter by visiting http://www.EileenMcDargh.com.
McDargh
Communications
(949) 496-8640
Eileen@EileenMcDargh.com
www.EileenMcDargh.com
© 2008 McDargh Communications, All rights
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