I almost walked away with the table

A Vulnerable story of loss and forgiveness and a Joy share that is Light and Fun

The picture that isn’t of Einstein is my oldest daughter with me. This was a halloween before she shut me out, before she eventually left home and went behind my back about a lot of things, including setting up to have my other daughter leave with her. My youngest daughter left with her, saying she hated me on the weekend of October 7th a year ago. It was the weekend of Hamas’ attack Israel and I had no warning that anything like this was coming. No one gave me a heads up about the things they were upset at me about. Not the ex they moved in with, not them, no one. And my view is that there are a lot better reasons for being upset at Israel pre-Oct 7 than there were at me - the only things I feel truly sorry about in a deep way, I thought we had already addressed and I had apologized for and had been forgiven for…it was a total shock. But I choose to remember that my children are earth angels on their own journey and to forgive them - and myself. I release myself from the past through the power of forgiveness! As many of you know, my dad is Jewish and I was born into a Sufi commune. I pray with all my heart that as I choose peace even when things that feel like emotional atrocities are done to me, that this peace can radiate out, that our world can know the kindness that can ultimately help others to lay down defensives and find reconciliation. I think my daughters may not say, “Sorry,” until after we are not in bodies, but I don’t have to hold on to grievances until then. I am free to love them, to forgive theme - and to love and forgive myself.

I am sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.

I forgive you. I love you. I accept your choices even if they take you away from me. Thank you for teaching me unconditional love, Sweetie.

Now for a story of joy - one that happened very spontaneously and that I am very happy to share with you, even through some tears brought from sharing the previous one!

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There are three guys called by the same nickname, or a redundancy of the same nickname, each of whom touch my life within a mile of my home. There is Joe, Joe Joe and Joe Joe. One of the Joes Joes is a dog. The other is the child of one of my friends down the street - not the one with the autistic son I described in my post about the Irish Matriarch - the other with whom I can have an ugly cry. This story is about Joe - the one who is the closest to a gay bestie I have - and a soul friend to boot. On a day I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be in this world, he didn’t know that, and he just happened to, when I came in with my husband, put my lavender latte on the house. Although I technically only know Joe in the context of being regulars at the place where he works, there is a connection that transcends that, and we always look forward to seeing each other. I know the name of his partner and what his partner struggles with and where they are going on vacation. He knows my son is into music, enough to remember to ask my son what he’s been playing when the three of us (my husband, son and I,) when in yesterday. And our conversations are usually somewhat serious and somewhat hilarious - my improvisational humor comes out with him and it’s a lot of fun. Also, I can give him big hugs without worrying it will get weird because he has great energy and he’s gay. It’s a winning combination. It had been a while since I’d seen Joe when we came to the restaurant where he is AGM yesterday, and he immediately came out from behind the counter to give me a hug. We chatted for a while, and eventually he asked we’d like a table inside or to go. I told him I’d like a table to go. In fact that I was planning on picking one up and carrying it out toward the lake, where there is a nice park for a picnic. I told him, just in case I get hurt, good thing my husband is with me, an urgent care dog. “But if I have to go to urgent care, do you mind bringing the food? I’d hate to miss just because I threw my back out taking your table for carry out.” He rolled with me on this joke, and his suggested I take the largest one. I responded, “Well in that case I’ll be in the ER. But actually maybe you could start an in-patient service of delivery to the ER so the people who are in the hospital don’t have to eat (quietly I say the s word) food. He riffs on it with me, but we also are sincerely planting the seeds of what would be a beautiful idea. What if customers at his restaurant could sponsor a meal delivery for an in-patient who couldn’t afford or didn’t have family to them non (s word) food? And who knows, what if something actually spawned from a couple of pure souls joking around about tables?

Our server was a young woman we’ve also gotten to know, though not as well. She has a European accent and I’ve been wondering for a while where she is from, but it didn’t feel appropriate to ask. Today we found out she is from Germany, but one of her parents just moved to Romania.

Our son told us about his time at the wild wild party he went to down the street, filled with blue grass players mostly between the ages of 35 and 78. He got to strum along to some of the blue grass songs and share a couple of his originals with the friends of our neighbor a few doors down whose joy is his band, now that he is retired from his career as an engineer. It was nice to know our son was having a great time while we could introvert at home and have a picnic. We also watched a Christmas movie from 2011. It was like a holiday version of Freaky Friday, called The Christmas Switch.

Two young men, probably high schoolers were the ones to set our plates on the outdoor table that I hadn’t, after all, taken down the street to the park. The fellows asked if they could get us anything else. “Love, joy and world peace,” I replied. “Not a problem. Coming right up,” They said ebulliently with a smile of ease and goodwill.

Our son ordered an acai bowl and my husband and I shared a scramble and a blueberry matcha. At one point when my husband, son and I were finishing up, I felt led to order a drink to go. He guessed what I had percolating in my mind: a lavender latte. As our server approached, I mentioned I’d like a drink to go. Then I motioned for my husband to order for me. He observed, “She’s giving me permission to order on her behalf, it looks like.” He ordered the latte and then I jumped back in spontaneously and said, “I’ve give him ACTUAL permission to represent my voice like a true democracy, rather what we actually have that is called a democracy.” The young woman’s face lit up and her mouth crinkled into a knowing smile, with sparkling eyes of amusement and resonance.

I know it’s not all fun and light. I know a hospital was bombed in Gaza, along with a school. The world is burning and flooded. I know plenty of grief in my personal life. I know physical pain. I know emotional pain. I also, when I asked the question “Who AM I?” got the Magdalene card in my Alana Fairchild deck, and the whole first half of the message is about it being an opportune time to truly let go of all the past that isn’t bringing you peace; that a new beginning is possible. I know that this world of form is a malleable dream and that we have to start dreaming beautiful dreams where we are in order to make that beautiful dream a reality for all who want it but wouldn’t otherwise know it was on the menu.

Let’s put love, joy, world peace and all kinds of awesome, loving realities of heaven on earth on the menu.