Reflections of an Aging Woman: Pain...

Reflections of an Aging Woman: Pain and Beauty in a Crazy yet Precious World

The unfiled tips of my finger nails want to snag one of my favorite tops. I wore it to Mass this morning and have been too tired to get out of it. I managed the bra but have not changed into my night shirt. It's one of those nights the Northeast is famous for around this time of the year. I decide it's too damp and drafty inside our late 40's Reese Colonial to go looking for tops buried who-knows-where. I manage to get into bed and reach for my book (Fred Vargas might just be the #1 thriller writer around). After a while I put the book down, switch off the night light and snuggle under my down comforter. 

My wispy unruly locks cover my face: nose, ears, eyes. My head ached so much, I skipped picking it up tonight. My stomach starts churning—even after a previous trip to the john, mild gastric pains follow me to bed. For the life of me, I can't find any level of comfort. I've endured three days of flu-like symptoms. Is it the real McCoy or just some other nasty bug? It's a conundrum that eludes me. Suddenly my heart starts fluttering and it's not over a handsome man. Stress must have raised my blood pressure level to new heights. I get out from under the warm comforter and reach for the valsartan. I bite into one of the pills, swallow half and throw the other half back in the small plastic bottle. I'm ecstatic. Yesss!!! I can look forward to at least fifteen trips to the bathroom tonight! Being facetious here.

Should I bow graciously and accept the inevitable old age creeping up on me, or is this merely a case of incidents—a series of unfortunate events?!

But hello, why am I complaining? My day was splendid. I rose earlier than usual, jumped in the shower, attended Mass then drove in search of take-out breakfast. I haven't had much of an appetite lately and I'm craving junk food. I settled on MacD's because it's the fastest. But after I drive to the establishment, someone's pulling out of the parking lot and signaling me that they're not opened for business yet. I wave back at the young girl in a gesture of thanks. I make a u-turn in the direction of Route 4. A glimmer of hope fills me as I cross Kinderkamack. As I pass the corner building, I note the address: 111 in big white numbers against a red brick background. I remember Mom fondly and her quirky obsession with the "three sticks" as she used to call them. Three sticks marking the highway to her son's in Utuado, PR, or to our house in Long Island. I am heartened at the sight of the 'three sticks' and take it as a good sign. Mom's looking out for me. Hope's on the horizon!

But, wait! There's more! There's something greater in store for me. With breakfast safely stowed on the passenger seat, I head back home. As I make the turn from Forest into Howland, I take note. The driver up ahead in the opposite lane signals me to stop. A family of deer has appeared out of backyards on my side of the road, to cross into Van Saun Park. I count 4, 5, 6, 7. I wait, just as the other driver does. A line of cars has formed behind us both, waiting for our cue to move. 

Two more fawns appear nervous and lost. They wait then cautiously cross the road after the others. I still wait. Suddenly a yet smaller fawn appears—the runt or youngest has been left behind. After some trepidation, wobbling, he takes a leap of faith and also crosses over into the park's wooded area in search of the others who have abandoned him. 

Emotion overcomes me and a small tear trickles down my cheek. Why am I suddenly crying? Are these  tears of joy? Then I realize yes, I am joyful, and hopeful. God has gifted me in a special way this morning, precisely at a time when I needed it most. He knows what I'm going through and allows me to take time out from my hurried life to take in His handiwork, nature in all its beauty and splendor, even on this busy road. 

As I counted the ten beautiful creatures I was reminded of my own blessings, and more importantly that God knows my struggles and my pain, and that He will never abandon me.

His timing is always perfect.