“You can misunderstand this, ya?” The eyes are bright. I breathe deep and say nothing as our coffee steams in the chilly noon.
“Ray, I’d die of boredom without some excitement, see…”
I want to kick him. ‘Courage in the face of danger,‘ that’s what he looks like now and its messing my heart.
It’s still raining, Janya takes their dog out in their yard with the guava and pomegranate. Kesh, grins. They both know I’m rattled at what’s happening to them, what can I say.
What d’you say to someone that’s to have a PET scan in the morrow, big surgery, all that. They are brave about the diagnosis, the emergency operation and terminal life, query. (They’ve given him just time enough to see another summer, maybe). I’m not. The two of them and I, have walked barefoot in pavements, smacked red mango with skin, drank rain one monsoon…and onetime at a cathedral when I wept at sheer Holy Beauty, they didn’t laugh. Now his smile and her grin, ..I’m unable to handle.
After coffee, and their dog (Reba, named after a fav grandma) drying up all over a cane mat,
we have a prayer, my throat wobbly numb stupid with disability to say clear words, we say it like it is, that this hurts and it’s scary but won’t You please hold our hand and pl pull us thru’ sacred Surgeon, and heal this Kesh.
Mid prayer I peek at him, he has tears running down a Goth face, dark shades in jaw, long brows and clipped beard, he’s got tears. Says later he cannot explain the peace that grabbed him by the heart and hand. Am guessing it’ll be a good day now on. Not sure how all this works, but it works. It’s the great adventure of my existence: reaching thru’ the nasty moment into the Unseen, in through our pitch black night, via a storm,
Heavens, sometimes, I’m the storm!
My storm of thoughts. My mire of ‘what if’s. Adventure with the Unseen Arm of Heaven, is for sure, being led by the very thing that’s trying to kill, letting it lead my feet, one moment at a time, to the Light.
Adventure is, fastening the seat belt of trust in the Unseen Beloved, knowing He knows the way out of this;
Adventure is not refusing the trail, and begging that it turns a day with no surprises;
it is knowing, with no shadow of doubt, this too will pass, this too has purpose, this must be savoured, this rain, this chilly noon, this wet dog in the cane mat, this woman with the grin and tear filled smile, this man who receives prayer with a knowing look, I’m yet to all decipher, but I’m guessing it’s to do with understanding that Joy is an energy released when you muscle in to the Arm of God. I’ve no other way to explain this,
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