I am home in Canada, but I called my other "home" in England this morning, needing to reconnect with Mum--to hear her voice.
I called Robert when I arrived yesterday evening to say we'd arrived safely, but Mum's light in her flat downstairs was already off and the hour was late, so he didn't disturb her.
Mum finds it hard to find her way to all the words that have been held captive inside her since her stroke 4 years ago. She can say so little of what she is thinking, but we laughed a lot together over the past three weeks, as I tried to understand when she fought to convey more complex than usual thoughts. She was endlessly patient and resigned, never complaining, as I would do, at the frustration of it.
It was poignant then, this morning, when she said, "Everything is different today...," and, "The leaves are falling; they are sad."
Those few words spoke more eloquently to me than thousands could have. We spoke of "next time," but even though it's hard to be so far apart, we are both so grateful for the gift of "this time."
What is more precious than the simple gift of time together? And I am grateful for the second gift--the gift of knowing that it is a treasure--in all of our relationships--with God or with each other.