Monday, February 4, 2013

Winter Cafe



A few days ago I snapped this picture of a sunset from my back door. I love the serenity of this photo with its brilliant hues & the sun's rays warmly glinting off the patio table, despite the fact that it's only 10 degrees outside. It's as though Winter herself is inviting us to sit for a spell & enjoy her quiet beauty. And truth be told, I've always loved the winter season—the way it's cold often forces us to slow down a little & ponder life in different, perhaps deeper, ways. With trees now bare of their leaves and a delicate blanket of snow cloaking the yard, life seems reduced to its stark essentials. 



So I call this collection of photos my "Winter Cafe." Each one is an opportunity to stop & drink from our surroundings for a moment without the distraction of spring & summer's vivid & competing colors, each one shouting "Life—more life!" In these photos, we see a world at pause, pooling energy at its roots—waiting—enduring—through frost & cold with a hardened faith in what it knows is inevitable. 


Because no matter how bleak the landscape might appear sometimes through my frosted windows, the soft winter sunlight still glistens at dawn, and wisdom tells us that change is always the operative word, the only thing we can count on in this life. 


Some of that change is welcome, when I have to face trudging to my old barn through snow & cold in the early light. I know these conditions won't last forever, and that spring is indeed around the corner.


Or when I walk along the lake near my home and hear shards of ice clacking against the shore. I know surely the wildlife are eager to see spring's return & the promise of more food that it offers. 

But then, at other times, such change is not nearly so welcome. Last night I visited a dear friend's mother, who was told she has only two weeks to live. This news came as a shock to us all. I wish I could have you close your eyes for a moment & wave a magic wand & cause each one of you to feel the kind of joy & light this woman always brings into a room. Dozens of plaques adorn her walls for the dedication & innovation she has brought to schools throughout a lifetime of service as a teacher & a principal. Yet what I love about her most, beyond her sparkling eyes & wit that can make an entire room erupt into laughter, is her keen insight into the moments that matter most in life. Even though there was a throng of people at her home last night, all chatting & telling stories & squeezing in their last visits with her,  I saw her turn her head for a second at a soft sound that was coming from another room. No one else seemed to hear or to notice it—but it was the sound of children giggling. Children who'd been too restless & noisy & who'd been sent to another room to play. Yet despite the clamor of guests around her, the woman looked up at me, her eyes twinkling, and  said, "Do you hear it? That's my favorite sound in the whole world."

And of course she's the kind of woman who freely lets squirming children sit on her lap. And she's the kind of woman who thought to hold a "jewelry party" for all of her granddaughters & gave them every precious bauble she'd ever owned—even some with diamonds in them—and then just smiled at the girls as though each one was an angel from Heaven. This is a wise woman who knows how to put her affairs in order, as straight as the frozen rows in the cornfields that surround the countryside near her home.




But this is also a woman who's not going to refuse her final appointment at the Winter Cafe. She will drink from this cup, and take time out to cherish everything she has ever loved. And in doing so, she's bravely preparing herself to walk that final snowy path alone. The ultimate change is coming for her, and she knows it, just as we know it.  She will not see another spring. 

But the one thing I understand for certain in a lifetime ruled by change: When it's time for our dear Madeline to go, although there'll only be one set of footprints along her frosted path, the cold air around her will be filled with the thrum of a thousand Angels' wings. And to her, it will sound just like her grandchildren giggling . . . 


Angel Update:
Madeline did make her final transition shortly after I wrote this article on the night of 2/15/13. Below is one of my favorite pictures of her with her two beautiful granddaughters at her side, showing the typical radiance of spirit that was such a blessing to her community for so many years. And I want everyone to know that although I've been fortunate to interview celebrities & even meet a rock star during my blogging journey, none of these individuals has come close to the overwhelming volume of readers who were touched by Madeline's story. Why? I like to think it's because people like Madeline are the real stars of our lives—for their vibrant spirits light our paths & make our own souls shine that much brighter. And now, Madeline has her wings . . .

22 comments:

  1. Thoroughly enjoyed your writing and pictures. Sending sweet spirit to the lady.Regards, Merliz

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you so much—my life has been made richer by her presence : )

    ReplyDelete
  3. There is a great feeling of acceptance from both you and her that makes this final journey seem so right for her. Of a life well-lived and fulfilled. It made me cry because I never got that feeling when my son passed, but this feels good, so I am glad for her.
    Sue Curnow

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm so sorry to hear this happened to your son. You are in my prayers for peace and grace. Thank you for your kind words—may your winter hold unexpected blessings : )

    ReplyDelete
  5. This was a very timely post.... A good friend of mine let me know last night that her Father had passed after a long illness.

    Thank you for your beautiful words !

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for visiting, Kathleen—I'm so glad these words resonated with you : )

      Delete
  6. Thank you, Diane. You always seem to notice, and point out one of mom's endearing, yet overlooked qualities when you have visited her, like her "teacher's voice" when she wants a child to know she is serious. You point out the things we all know, yet do not notice, the things we seem to take for granted, the things that make her "mom". She is a wonderful person, known to all as "Sis". I was 8 years old before I knew her real name, I thought my mom was named "Sis". It seems a fitting name for her. Thank you for the beautiful words. We all love you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is hard for all of us, Jim—I still don't quite believe it's happening. How dear that you didn't know your mom's real name until you were 8! Your mom is so accomplished but unobtrusive—it doens't surprise me that didn't run around making sure people called her by the "right" name. She is a "Sis" to the whole world, always ready to be there for everyone and help. Her joy is her strength : )

      Delete
    2. Sis Maurer, is very sprcial, she has a way of lifting you up when you aree down, her laughfter fills a room, a smart beautiful lady, I am blessed that she crossed my life,

      Delete
  7. You made me cry and be joyful at the same time. Madeline is a special person who is well loved and loves well.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Her spirit of love & joy follow her wherever she goes. I have no doubt that there will be many Angels who will rejoice to welcome her home, and that the stars will shine just that much brighter : )

    ReplyDelete
  9. Madeline and her mom Vic are two of my favorite ladies that I have ever met!!! There is something about both of them that made me feel truly blessed to know them! I read this beautiful story and cried my eyes out! I hope Madeline realizes that she touched many, many lives here on this Earth. She is an amazing person and I am so thankful that she touched my life! Thank you Diane for sharing this wonderful story!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Thank you for visiting, Shelly! Madeline has been such a huge blessing to us all : )

    ReplyDelete
  11. This is such a beautiful tribute to your friend. The many lives she touched will carry her memory for years to come.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you. I really believe Madeline's surrounded by the guardian angels of every child she has ever helped & given hope to—and that number is in the thousands. You can tell the angels are near her by the glow that's always on her face : )

      Delete
  12. Diane,
    Thank you for a beautiful story about a wonderful woman, Madeline, whom I call "Sis". I met Sis back in the mid 1950's at Bender's Park, they had roller skating there every Wednesday night. My friends and I spent time at Sis's house where sometimes her mom Vic would play the piano and we'd sing and goof around. Sometimes her sister Pat and brother John (Buck)would join in. Her brother Paul was a bit younger and I didn't get to know him until years later and he is the same as the rest of the family, fun and a good person. I knew back then that they were a special family, and Sis was a special friend. Sis never changed, she just kept getting better and better! God Bless Sis, her husband Jim, and their family.

    ReplyDelete
  13. The way Madeline & her family have knit so many hearts in their community together has been a timeless blessing for all. Even now, when times are difficult, their home is still filled with so much laughter & joy. Surely their hearts have already experienced a taste of Heaven : )

    ReplyDelete
  14. What a beautiful tribute to Madeline. I remember the time my mom explained to me that 'Sis' and 'Madeline' was the same person. I call her 'Mom Maurer' because I spent quite a bit of time at their house hanging out with Vicki. Also, I can hear that 'teacher's voice' from time spent in her classroom. She has shared her gifts with friends, family and students. She is a treasure. Thank you for writing,

    ReplyDelete
  15. Madeline is a treasure and a very bright light. Thank you for your words & please keep everyone in your prayers : )

    ReplyDelete
  16. Once again, thank you for your beautiful gift of words, and the gift of your time while mom was with us. I know she could hear what we said, even in those last moments. I know that she was in more pain than she let on to us, and I am thankful that her pain is over now, but we all miss her terribly. The grace and strength she carried and demonstrated in her final days will inspire us all for a lifetime or more. While she has passed, her light will shine on us forever.

    ReplyDelete
  17. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete
  18. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete