Tears and A

It’s amazing! No matter how many years pass, and the apparent mantle of maturity grows, we can still learn lessons.

We are taken care of by a higher power I chose to call God. You may prefer another term. It really doesn’t matter because life constantly teaches me lessons in coping.

I have four children, but only one daughter. Saying goodbye to her and moving to another distant area was one of the hardest choices I ever made.

There were many reasons for my decision. Admittedly, several quite personal and we will not discuss those.

However, the primary reason was an available facility for independent living that provided not only luxury, but proximity to another child at a price I could afford.

I am not known for practicality, but after my Anam Cara left without me ten years ago, I had to learn to live alone and be totally responsible for myself. It has been an interesting decade, and despite the negative aspects, admittedly, a time for truly comprehending all the complexities of independence.

The financial consideration along with the sudden discovery of living quarters that allowed me a life style not available locally provided the motive for relocation.

Nothing, however, prepared me for the emotional pain of saying goodbye to my daughter.

This week I was blessed with her visit for Mothers Day. When she arrived I remembered the first moment a nurse had put her in my arms in Cleveland, and that was a very long time ago. The three days she and her husband shared with me could be compared to the Manna from heaven.

But of course, life goes on, and they left early this a.m. When we said goodbye again last night, I could not stop the tears from flowing. I was an emotional mess, despite knowing I was too old, too intelligent and supposedly, too sophisticated for such juvenile behavior.

So, I did what I always do, I turned to my writing and began to edit an article scheduled soon for publication. And without warning, it disappeared.

Frantically, I spent the next two hours with the help of Apple support searching. It was gone, and my support guru advised me to give up. He was going to bed. And then so did I.

While I sat drinking my coffee this morning knowing my guests had already departed for an early flight and still feeling lonely, I decided to attempt to recreate the lost ms.

To my utter amazement the document miraculously reappeared intact.

I may be blasé’, even a bit jaded at times perhaps, but I will never stop believing in Guardian Angels and I know I have been taught another lesson in coping with life’s ongoing sometimes rocky journey.