Let It Be

It's a bit surprising to me that I have been getting up, going to a new part-time job, working on my regular writing and editing, feeding the cats, feeding me and even, once in awhile, sweeping the floor, all on a sort of autopilot. It's only in the middle of the night, when there is nothing conscious to block the subconscious that the feelings of fear and pain surge.  I wake up every couple of hours, heart racing, mind whirling, fear-filled and sorrow-drenched.

Grief is a night stalker.

As I remind myself to breath, I am acutely aware that Mother died three weeks ago today. I received a check in the mail for the deposit we put down several years ago on her room in the assisted living/nursing home where she lived and died. It was a breathing-sucking moment to see her name on the check.  I laid it on the seat of the car as I drove into the driveway from the mailbox and it's still there.  I probably should go out and get it, but I think it can wait until morning.

I've never exactly believed that hard things come in threes, but they do seem to cluster in our lives.  Perhaps the good things cluster too, but we just don't pay as much attention to the good as the hard, sad, difficult things.  However, these past three weeks seem to have been a knotted cluster of pain.  There is, of course, Mother's death and all the commensurate pain that surrounds the loss of the woman who was the most significant and influential person in my life.  Added to it is my sorrow, confusion and pain over a good friend who was arrested in connection with a white collar crime. Not to mention the feelings that came with being interviewed by the police. No matter that I know nothing, it's still a bit disconcerting to have a police detective arrive on your doorstep. And then there is the heartache for a friend whose mother had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.  Having just walked through several months of hospice, I felt my heart being pulled the pit of my stomach at that news.

This afternoon, despite the fact I had more to do than time to do it in, two friends asked me to join them for a cup of coffee at the Washburne Cafe.  After driving by it three times (It's that autopilot thing again.), I finally found a parking place and feeling like my inner and outer being was in shambles, I met them.  I could barely tell you where I was, but they steered me to a table, gave me something to drink and began to comfort me.  We talked and laughed and prayed.  They lifted me up and reminded me that all things have a season and nothing lasts forever---good or bad.

"It's been a long season," I thought, remembering back a year ago when Mother broke her legs and the long long road that finally led home. I didn't want them to know, but surges of panic were rising again as I thought about how to manage her last affairs, pay her taxes, and try to find a way to now take care of me and my own needs.

Just then I noticed that there was a song in background.  I hadn't heard any music playing the whole time we were talking, but suddenly I heard the words, "Let it be."  The Beatles song was coming from somewhere.  I stopped and listened:

And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be no sorrow, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be.
Let it be.

I truly believe that God was sending me a message at that moment.

Let it be. Let it all be just as it is.

There will be no sorrow. Let it be.