When One Door Closes #2

I want to open the window.

There was a baby in the Temple on Monday. My family and I walked into the sanctuary to take our front row seats, I would sit in the back row hard metal chairs for every Friday night and Saturday morning service for years before wanting the front row seats for this reason, and we heard the cooing and babbling of a young baby. It was perfect. It calmed me for a moment and really highlighted how true it is that when one door has closed, another has just opened.

Its been overcast and raining since Tuesday. Monday, when we buried my father, it was gorgeous. There were no bugs, the sun was warm and comforting and we could open all the windows in the house and let the love, laughter and most importantly new air flow through the rooms.

Sunday, after the Funeral Home came and took my Dad's body, there was a spot to clean on the mattress. We pulled the blind to the top of the window, pressed the bed right up against it and let the warm sun seep in to dry it. I felt like the sun was shining down right on that spot. It knew it needed some warmth, some comfort, and yet some way to imprint what had happened into the mattress.

I don't really believe that things happen for a reason anymore, what is the reason for what I just experienced? However, Nature has a funny way of showing up and letting you know there is a whole mysterious world that keeps on happening around you and giving you things to key into, focus on, cherish, make you feel warm. My Mom saw two Herons on her first walk after my Dad's funeral, one of his favorite birds. Monday after the funeral the sun was streaming through the clouds in those amazing rays that make you believe there is something above them, something up there.