120 - Passage

June 21, 2001

The diagnosis of illness carries with it so many images: hospital rooms and reprieve, good days, bad days, treatment, time off. How fortunate when there is someone who is there throughout all the times. We also must remember to cherish and care for this caregiver. Witness and support from beginning to end, their love and their loss demand our attention.

One Hundred Twenty

Passage

To survive the high noon of diagnosis,
We found optimistic eyeshades, Holy One,
Blinders of hope for years to come,
Setting our love fast with Your love.

To survive illness' overcast glare,
We pulled out woven hats, Holy One,
Our community of treatments and duties,
A dailyness of life as it was.

To survive the worn-away of days, the nights,
We wrapped ourselves in hooded robes,
Waking in dark hours, Holy One,
Praying near dawn for healing, dreamless sleep.

To survive these ending days,
You draw taut the sheet of courage, Holy One,
Binding us up in spent anger transformed,
In enduring love.

To survive alone,
You draw me to You, Holy One,
Remembering joys of unshaded brightness,
Hatless, uncovered, unscathed.

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