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MAYA

9/30/2015

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There she is! Maya. My latest grandchild. The one who came to teach, like five others before her. There she is, her soft and spotless skin next to abuela’s lived-in hand. Her breath, soft as a spring breeze, her profile so much like Patti's that it is almost too painful to behold. 

There she is, radiant, full of life.

I can’t write about the other part. Not yet. The rush to one hospital, then another, with Maya unabe to breathe on her own. The look on my Patti’s face, a new mom unwilling to grasp the “what could happen”. The fear that had clutched my heart, the darkness that tried to swallow us all. I can’t write about the seconds turned to minutes turned to hours that became days. The tubes coming out of her.

The look on Patti’s face.

And yes, there she is! Maya. My latest grandchild. She came to teach - a clear lesson. The fragility of life. The instant when light turns to dark. The family that wraps its arms around it all. The will to live. The chance at life.

And yes, there she is! Maya. Four weeks. 

Abuela’s hand a lot older than four weeks ago.



Ahi está! Maya. La mas reciente nieta. La que vino a enseñar como los cinco anteriores. Ahi está, su hermoso cutis perfecto al lado de la mano bien vivida de la abuela.  Su respiro, suave como un viento de primavera, su perfil tan igual al de Patti que me duele hasta mirarlo.

Ahi está, radiante, llena de vida. 

Aún no me atrevo a escribir sobre lo otro. El apuro para llegar al primer hospital, luego al otro, Maya que no podia respirar por su cuenta.  La carita de mi Patti, una nueva mamá reacia a aceptar lo “que puede pasar”. El miedo que se apoderó de mi corazón, la oscuridad que trataba de cubrirnos a todas. No puedo escribir sobre los segundos convertidos en minutos y las horas que se convirtieron en días. Los tubos que le salían de todos lados. La carita de mi Patti.

Y si, ahi está! Maya. La mas reciente nieta. Vino a enseñar una lección muy clara. La fragilidad de la vida. El instante cuando la luz se oscurece. La familia que te abraza. El deseo de vivir. La oportunidad de vida.

Y si, ahí está! Maya. Cuatro semanas.

La mano de la abuela mucho mas envejecida que hace cuatro semanas.

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MAYA

9/23/2015

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Luke 10:38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.  But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”


Are you Mary or are you Martha? I know have always been more of a Martha, hurried and rushed, busy in the kitchen making last minute preparations, grumbling that no one is there to help me. Inside. Making sure everything is “just so”. Table, perfectly set. Food, perfectly prepared. Wine, perfectly chilled. Candles perfectly lit. Behind the scenes. Away. Alone.

How much did I miss, hiding in the kitchen while others sat around the table “doing what was needed?”. How many sweet and tender conversations must have taken place between loved ones while I was putting the last touches on the creme brulee? How much did others learn about life and about each other while I was complaining that no one helped me? And how much time did I complain so loudly that my voice drowned out the touch of angels that had taken residence in my house?

Jesus was not saying that it is OK to let everything go to pot or to ignore our guests' needs.  But he was saying that there are times to be in the kitchen and there are times to be sitting at his feet, taking a break, savouring his words, and  comfort a friend in need.  You see, Jesus’ heart was heavy, on his way to the final days of his life, with the dire certainty of what was about to happen, the inevitability of the suffering to come, the gripping sadness of all those who were about to turn their backs on him. At this moment, you see, Jesus needed his friends more than food, more than drink and maybe much more than his friends needed him. 

As Mary sat at his feet - mind you, every time we meet Mary she is at the Savior’s feet — giving him the last hours of unconditional love and comfort he would feel on this earth, Martha was inside making chicken soup and complaining about her sister!

How many critical moments in your life have you missed because you thought you were doing the right thing when only one thing was needed?

Today, on Yom Kippur, take the time to be Mary. Sit at someone's feet. Listen. Love. Comfort. Do what is needed.




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    Author

    Lili Nealon/Lunalili

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