Rest in peace

Unexpectedly, I find myself in Boston, or a 'burb thereof, this Monday morning. In brief, after complications from back surgery ten days ago, my mom came home, but checked back into the hospital with chest pains on Thursday.

Fact: Chest pains aren't something you really mess around with. They're actually a great way to scare your grown kids!

Opinion: My baby sister, age 22, caregiver-in-chief around here, needed a little break. Not that she said so, plugger that she is. I'm the big sister, and I just know these things.

So here I am, while the Professor and some helpful friends have been minding the fort. Now, when I arrived Friday night, thanks to a last-minute deal on Hotwire, my mom was back home, up and around, and relatively energetic. I'll be painfully honest with you. The thought flitted through my head: Did I really need to cobble together care for my kids and come all the way up here? Do they really NEED me? Did I overreact?

I had a little chat with my Good Shepherd, and He faithfully reminded me that I didn't come here out of a need to be needed. That kind of desire may serve my self, but it just exerts pressure on everyone else. I decided to take the spirit of Mary rather than Martha, and just be present and available, doing exactly what He had for me here and nothing more or less. No Superwoman capes required.

There's rest and peace in that kind of surrender. I've been re-reading Little Women. Visiting with my brother and sister-in-law, youngest sister, and other friends who come by. Reading aloud to my mom while she rests. Talking with my dad while I help him eat. Stopping by the consignment shop in town because, like a dope, I forgot to pack any other jeans than the ones I wore on the plane. Praying. Being NOT in a rush. NOT giving anyone instructions. Listening. Drinking copious amounts of Good Earth tea. Freezing my toes. Talking to my crew on the phone. Looking forward to kissing some little faces in less than 24 hours.

It's all good.