remembering

Birthdays and family gatherings are a time to remember

a time to wander back through the crumbling neuropathways

of one’s brain

 

to times past

 

this past week I turned 70, and was joined in my rememberings

by sister who

truth be told,

are more aged than I  (although not by much)

 

so there we sat

ages 70, 74, and 77

remembering

 

hot summer days in Lake County, Oregon

4H horse club

treks through the sage and juniper

6am practices for the swim team

 

remembering our parents

our diminutive but powerful mother

who served with joy

 

our tall, lanky father

a physician and a true healer

 

remembering what it was like to grow up

in that small town full of

timber people and ranch people

first generation Irish, Armenians, and more.

 

remembering growing up with the same faces

the same names

first grade through high school

 

remembering how safe it all felt

that small town where people took care of each other

our small family

where mother and father create a free and friendly space

where we were able to grow up

and unfold

and become unique individuals

 

without fear of whether we would be loved or not

mistreated or not

abandoned or not

 

in thinking about this I am aware of how my understanding of

whatever it is that is underneath, in, and over creation

has been shaped by my experience

in that small town,

which supported and cared

and by my kind and loving parents

 

for me the Kingdom of God is like

a village in the high desert

where everyone knows your name

where you are accepted

and cared for and cheered for

 

and that reality we endow

so often

with the inadequate image of father or mother

is shaped by those loving

grace full people who were my parents

 

for me the Sacred is

warm, nurturing, supportive, and safe

reliable

loving

 

I do not have to cower

be afraid

wonder

 

I know all too well

that not all see or experience Sacred this way

 

that for some

the power that is under, in and over all

is not safe

not predictable

not nurturing

 

it is instead

demanding, harsh, and punitive

authoritarian

 

and it is sad to see them

abused children of harsh parents

becoming harsh in their own way

 

abused children of a harsh God

creating their own forms of abuse

seeking to dominate

control

and coerce

 

rather than welcome, and love, and support

 

here is to good parents

human and divine

here is to allow love to overcome

the ways in which we were and are wounded

 

here is to love