“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time…” – Thomas Merton.
Ed’s big farmer hands seem to belie the cancer that is wearing down his body and mind. A peacefulness has come over him at times this week, but even the cancer can’t wash away the strength of those hands, which worked so hard and were so strong.
Today, I canceled my planned trip to Albany to see the refugees, I realize I have to take care of me, there is no virtue in burning out or wearing out. Ali and I will meet this morning in our “office” in the village of Schaghticoke, N.Y.
We will plan next week’s work with the soccer team and the refugees. I am now the official sponsor of the Albany Warriors, the soccer team that did not go into the caves.
This afternoon, I’ll bring some fresh-cut corn to Carol and sit with Ed for awhile, I’ll bring a book. Now, the gift is silence, not conversation. I’ll just be.
Since the day I was born, death began it’s slow walk to meet me, it walks towards me every minute, without hurrying, or ever turning around. People are so surprised to meet up with it, but they aren’t paying attention, it is the surest thing that there is in the world.
There is some peace in acceptance, and great comfort in the silence.