A New Purpose

When I first began writing this blog, I was in the midst of grief. Both of my parents had died a few months apart and it had naturally thrown me into a difficult period of mourning and missing their physical presence in my life. Eventually I was able to enjoy the memory of their wonderful teaching and embrace the gift of having such good and loving parents who provided for all of us in a tender and generous way.

Now in this move I am experiencing loss. It is different than grief, but perhaps it is a cousin of grief. It does not compare to the loss experienced by someone who has come through traumatic change (war, earthquakes, or homelessness). It is the loss of relationships  – some long gone and some more fresh. It is the loss of a city which continues to feel like my true home. It is the loss of work, which once inspired and sustained me, but now is a distant memory.

I often ask “what went wrong?” and “why does an extrovert who was always surrounded by people now find herself  alone?”  Not only do I miss my friends, but the past two years my son lived with me and I miss his youthful and intelligent presence. On bad days I wonder why I ever moved, but on good days I realize that there is a new found freedom to being an inward looking person.

When I worked I was diligent and pursued my love for books. In my free time I loved running and faithfully practiced it around 5 days a week. It was where I shed my stress and enjoyed nature. Though many of these things are past, there are new challenges taking shape. I dusted off my bicycle and am able to ride it in a beautiful neighborhood with wide avenues. This was impossible for me in downtown Brooklyn. Now I am not writing this because life has dealt me a particularly bad hand in the loss department. This is the natural progression of life. Everything slows down.

Recently, I discovered my patron saint. It turns out it is Saint Anthony of Padua. He grew up in Portugal and ended up in Padua, Italy. He is the patron saint for the recovery of lost items, and is credited with many miracles involving lost people, lost things and even lost spiritual goods. When he became a Franciscan he was put in charge of hospitality. He was also a great teacher and preacher. I can not recover my lost youth, but this self will continue to put “pen to page” and sing as beautifully as I can. I will occasionally look back to my past, but not with envy, but as a person “waiting” for a new purpose — perhaps as a mentor and giver of hospitality — the very gifts my parents gave me.