PREPARE

It's one of those work weeks. 

Too few hours for all there is to do and all that must be done. 

Concerts, baseball games, award ceremonies, track meets, music lessons, basketball, graduations, after school pick-ups, pre-school drop-offs, vet visits, physicals, shots, blood-work, insurance calls.

Oh, and I was supposed to get that stuff in the mail. And return those calls. Emails. Texts.

The lawn, strung out from winter desiccation,  needs immediate attention.

Postus Interrupt-Us:  Winter Desiccation? Huh? We didn't even have winter! What is winter desiccation, and why does such a ridiculously spelled word require me to reseed 3 acres of grass?

No kidding. Our grass packed up its roots this spring and disappeared.  But the flower and veggie gardens are so overgrown with Audrey IIs, Men in Black must be summoned to take them down. Big-Boy-Toy-Weed-Wacker doesn't stand a chance.

Oh, and RAIN, sweet rain, why have you deserted us  (literally?) Weeks, months of 80+ degree days? C'mon!  It isn't even Memorial Day yet! This is BUFFALO!  The hard, cracked ground beneath my desiccated non-turf could double as the surface of the moon.

Fine. I can channel grateful.  I'll give a huge shout-out to the nurseries, newspapers, and magazines that feature lush, vibrant visions of neatly trimmed and ordered gardens, decks and patios.  

Love that they taunt me from every grocery store check-out line and physician waiting-room table.  

Love all their tips, suggestions,  and perfection.  I'm a huge fan. Really.  Not rooting for your obsolescence. REALLY.

Sigh. What's a gal to do when there's way too much to do?

This gal goes for a walk. Beneath the noon-day sun. With a woman I've never walked with before.

Meet L.S.  Years ago she spent her childhood in the house next door. Weeks ago, she arrived from the West Coast to care for her mom- because mom's doctors can't image or radiate, cut and suture anymore. The cancer that Wonder Woman had knocked down, battled, warred against, and held at bay for decades finally emerged as victor; claiming organs, bones, and spirit.

You remember L.S.'s mom.  I wrote about her in a March post called Landscape.  She is still Pioneer. Educator. Wife. Cyclist. Warrior. Mom. Builder. Activist. Friend. Grandmother. Humorist. Tribal Elder.

Thin and frail cannot dim unique and extraordinary.

As I walk with L.S., duty and responsibility take on new meaning. I hear tales of bedtime visits, greeting card read-alouds, and selfless acts of service- generated 24/7. Tasks and schedules are long forgotten as I listen to this woman who will soon say goodbye to the mother/friend who taught her, cared for her, and loved her more than anyone else ever will.  

Eventually, L.S. leads me from sidewalk to bedside so I can chat with her mom. We hug, gossip, and joke.  It's too soon time to leave, and my brave, gorgeous neighbor smiles her dazzling smile and says, "The best part about knowing you are going to die is that you have time to prepare. Put things in order. Say all your goodbyes and I-love-yous. Imagine all the people who never have such good fortune," she adds. "No time to prepare."

The juxtaposition of 'good fortune' and 'preparing for death' is stunning.

I have prepared for tests, finals, meetings, dinner parties, holidays, weddings, childbirth, kids off to college. But I have never even begun to contemplate preparing for death.

Until early this afternoon. When  I left a desk/house/yard of obligation to take a walk with an angel.

En route to great perspective, LS told me how she left a successful, cutting-edge career to become a volunteer for Hospice. Being of service to individuals and families confronting death brought her a purpose and joy she had never before experienced. It also helped her learn that life goes on - love and joy and laughter live on - even after our loved ones leave us. Now confronting unspeakable sorrow and loss, L.S. knows that she can carry on, even when her beloved mom is no longer a living source of courage and strength.  

This past weekend, U.S. Navy SEAL Eric Greitens addressed the 2012 graduating class of Tufts University. He challenged: 'What kind of service can I provide? What kind of positive difference can I make in the lives of others?' If you work every day to live an answer to that question, then you will be stronger....The best definition I have ever heard of a vocation is that it's the place where your great joy meets the world's great need."

My dear neighbor has lived a long, wonderful life, serving her community, her church, family, and the many friends she adored as family.

Her daughter is stepping into shoes that are all but impossible to fill. Effortlessly.

The journey that began with service in Hospice - preparing others for life's final passage - has not only enabled L.S.to care expertly and  lovingly for her mom in this time of great need. It has helped her prepare for life beyond Mom.  

Blessedly, they will have the hours for all that must be said and done. 

And she will keep the treasured memories of all that will be shared. 

QUING Hereby Decrees: Prepare, and banish fear.