No Ordinary Day

I’ve learnt from a long–time Tai-Chi student to count my blessings every single day.  But the day before yesterday was no ordinary day, and I was at a loss as to how to count those blessings.

An email in the morning told me that one of my patients has left our world.  

Late at night I read on Facebook that my very good friend’s father’s “suffering is over now”.

It’s probably a cultural or language thing, but I have the greatest difficulty using the word here.  In French , “trépasser” can mean to pass away, so you can imagine how stunned I was when I first saw a typical North American sign, the one that says:  “No trespassing beyond this point”.  Trespassing aka passing away is about going beyond, or passing across. Or not doing so for those who stay behind…

So as I am staying on this side of the sign, how many blessings can I count today?

My occupation stimulates me.  Both the job and the people.  I have a patient whose laughter sounds like crystal.  Many that keep me on my toes, numerous that make me think and ponder profound subjects about life.  People usually come with their challenges and leave feeling lighter and better spirited.  We’ve shared good laughter.  One person’s blue eyes looks to me like a deep blue sea - something that holds your gaze while your mind turns meditative, like when watching the moon, or the flames of a camp fire.  My Tai-Chi students teach me everyday how to experience more free flow in life, so that I may become a little bit of a better person.  The person counting her blessings is a chronic pain sufferer.  She told me that she would like to be remembered as a fountain of love.  That left me speechless and is imprinted in me and is a soothing life experience each time I see her.  And I have great teachers.  And wonderful friends.

Not to mention family - I dearly love my mother, siblings, nephews and nieces, cousins, uncles & aunts.

So my heart aches for my friend and her family now.

And I can’t imagine how my patient’s parents, husband and little 4 year-old daughter must feel.  She was living grace, a super sensitive person always pondering what’s right and wrong because she was so caring.  She was 35 and her daughter-to-be was about to turn 7 months old.

I lost count.  I have faith that where they rest is only infinity.