travel light

things are merely 

things and yet 

they carry 

and contain memories

leaving them behind

we lose markers, road signs

ways of getting back

to who and where

we were

a cost deeper

than my heart 

would choose to bear

still, I travel light

Ash Wednesday 2019

there are no ashes

marked upon my skin

yet inside, deep

they scatter to fill

an unexpected emptiness

who am I to mark

losses, gathered 

in stacks

of nothing

from which I was created

to which I will return

where the only One Who mattered

matters still

For you were made from dust, 

and to dust you will return

Genesis 3:19 NLT

Indescribable ache

How do I write of Mother's Day

when I'm not sure I know how to breathe?

I look at pictures on paper, 

or digital captures on the computer monitor, 

or images preserved only in the filing system in my mind, 

synapses firing fast today.

Yes, I know in years to come 

I will celebrate her on this day, 

and I will rejoice.

I will inhale memories, exhale thanksgiving.

But now, right here, the wound is fresh, 

the tears stinging hot.

The final thing we shared "I love you".

For this year, those words must be enough.

 

Open ears

My Mom - who has unimpaired ears!

I have known for quite a long time (as have many of you who engage in face to face conversation with me) that I have struggled with hearing loss in my left ear.  Too often I need to ask for words to be repeated and even then I often give up in frustration before truly understanding what is being said. 

I have attributed this to aging and genetics and grown somewhat used to turning my good right ear toward sounds I am trying to capture.  I've gotten accustomed to missing much of what is said in movies or on television.  I've even used the impairment to my advantage, pressing my good ear hard into the pillow at night so I don't hear Faith when she goes on a barking spree.

I have both complained and made jokes about the problem.  It was only when the ringing and roaring in my ear became a constant distraction that I decided to seek help.

A visit with an ear, nose and throat specialist confirmed my difficulties.  Monday's testing with an audiologist measured the extent of the problem.  Something has damaged the nerve, the loss is defined as permanent and an MRI is scheduled for the end of May to investigate the cause.

It seems like a long time to wait and ponder.  I will continue to release all of this into His hands, willing to be a sign and a wonder if He should choose to restore what has been called unrecoverable.

I will continue to open the ears of my spirit, which operate on a different wavelength.  Hearing His voice doesn't need my damaged nerve, it simply needs my hungry heart.