About saying good-bye and smiling hello and ancient grounds and cheap cheese and life and peace and gratitude...

You know what happens, don't you? Stuff happens, big stuff, trivial stuff, I have thoughts and feelings about it all, can't for the life of me put it all into words other than the rambling that happens with close friends and loved ones, then I try to write about it all, grind to a sludgy halt when the feels start and end up with 7 unpublished posts. Sometimes I suck at blogging.

Not that sucking at blogging is going to stop me from trying. For all I know, this may be unpublished post #8. Then again, it might not. And that is worth the effort.

I am in Massachusetts with Brian and his family. I love it here. Every time I write that, I feel an insistent urge to point out that I also love my home in Quebec. Which I do. I am discovering that there is a bit of guilt attached to leaving home there and finding home here with Brian. I am a woman between two lands. Which sounds much more dramatic than it actually is. What it actually is, is confusing and uncomfortable and interesting and bittersweet and lovely and sad. It's deep (what exactly does it mean to be a Canadian living in the U.S?) and simple (whoa, look at the price of CHEESE here!) It's celebratory (I am a 2 minute walk from Dunkin donuts AND from a huge, lovely bush behind the house that I can wander about in for HOURS!) and sorrowful (I keep dreaming about my mother, and our house on Linda St. in Ormstown.)

I am fully aware that I am in denial about some aspects of moving here. My head keeps reminding me that I am going to be leaving my best friend and soul sister, and my family, while my heart frowns and grumbles, "Shut up...we're not there yet!" Grace is moving to England, and I know that I cannot cheer my child on as she moves out on her own adventure if I am thinking about her being so far away. So I don't think about it. Well, okay, of course I think about it. But I don't THINK about it. We're not there yet, either.

One thing I do feel very clearly is peaceful. Yesterday I went for a walk in a cemetery that is just down the road from us. It's a lovely place, with tall trees and quiet. As I walked, I thought that it felt old and full of memory, which I think might be a Lord of the Rings quote about Fangorn forest. In any case, it fit.

It was peaceful, and I felt at home. There was a time when places like this, or the woods behind it were the only places I felt at peace. Not any more. The peace that is within me reaches out and rejoices in peaceful places and circumstances, but it does not rely on them. It is a peace that I don't understand and could never have manufactured for myself. It is real and persistent and solid and good.

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:4-7

There are a lot of big changes coming up. There are going to be extravagant gifts and gut wrenching losses.  It is the nature of life.  There are no gains without losses, no love without pain, no hello without good-bye, no laughter without tears, no joy without sorrow. Still, there is peace.  Jesus is like that. He is like that in us. And He is like that in me.

So where am I now, with everything that is going on? I am at the place that I always end up. I am at the lovely, nurturing, soul-sustaining place of gratitude.

And I couldn't be happier.

Just a thought.