[originally posted June 5 2011, 9:10 AM]

Caring for a loved-one takes patience, maybe more on their part than mine. I'm grateful for the life-training I've accumulated.

Readiness

I'm naturally inclined toward readiness. I'm an inveterate list-maker, retired Boy Scout (motto: Be prepared), and Consumer Reports shopper. I've already read "The 36-Hour Day" and the 50-page owner's manual to every Palm Pilot and iPhone I ever owned.

With my parents in this time of need, I'm grateful for WiFi and 7-hour laptop battery life. Many facts are there for the taking. But that's not sufficient.

Reflection

I was a slow learner when it came to reflection. My friend, Bill, would constantly amaze me by saying "I thought about what you said last week". Me: "Really? What I said?" He's a contemplative and a writer who has studied among many monastic communities.

So I've learned the skills of reflection. This little blog is one of them. It gives me joy, and it challenges me to find words amidst the swirl of confusing feelings and second-thoughts. It leads me to cleansing tears as well.

Reflection in a quiet moment, while waiting for someone to show up or wake up, or in a conversation as I untangle thoughts by giving them words.

My wife, Sandy, has been the best teacher about reflection by her constant example and by the unending, unfunded series of hands-on impromptu workshops she has unwittingly led me through.

Presence

I've learned the power of presence through two dear chaplain friends, Dick and Bob. Presence is the main tool in the chaplain's toolbox. The main lesson is "I am enough". Enough just as I am. Enough when I just listen silently. Enough when I just remain with you. Enough even when I make a mistake.

So this particular little old lady, Iris Belden, is getting my version of the royal treatment. I don't exactly know what the next action will be, but it will be enough.