Those of you who have been reading this blog for any length of time know I have been on a semi blog break this last month. I miss reading blog posts and have been an infrequent visitor. My own posting has been sporadic at best.
The unbloggable has reared its head like a dark phantom and this darkness has permeated each thread in the fabric of our family.
A lot of the time I have not been blogging I have been spending in meditation and prayer. I often pray for angels to watch over and help my family through this difficult period. The angels in my mind’s eye are heavenly angels, guardian angels, mystical and beyond this earthly world.
In order to not get sick while I negotiate one day at a time (because yes, the worrying has caused a dramatic weight loss and lack of sleep) I try to get out and take my walk. Yesterday, instead of walking in the morning, my walk was put off while I graded student work and made sure everything was stable in the home. So, instead of walking at my normal early A.M. hour, I set out a little after 11.
Walking in the heat of the day felt invigorating and cleansing in a different sort of way. About ¾ of the way down the bike path, I noticed a man a few feet off to the side, somewhat hidden in the bushes, leaning against a tree. I became a bit wary, as a woman walking alone (Border Collie is a true unknown variable when it comes to protection). I veered to give myself room to bolt, but as
I passed I noticed the man was leaning against a tree, eyes closed, and looking like he was meditating. He looked to be in his fifties, only about 5’5”, and perhaps missing a few teeth from the way his mouth hung slightly open. He looked like he was taking a break in the shade.
I passed him and went on.
On the way back, a good 15 minutes later, he was in the exact same position. I began to wonder if he might be OK. I almost walked on by as he still looked like he was asleep, and since that part of the trail is somewhat isolated, was also still unsure how much I wanted to encounter a strange man while I myself was alone.
But I stopped and said, “Hello…. Are you OK?”
“No. I ran away from my care home,” the man replied. He kept his eyes closed as he addressed me and his palate was handicapped in a way that made his speech difficult to understand.
“Can you open your eyes?”
“No. I lost my eyes as a child. I cannot see.”
“Can I help you somehow?”
“Yes. Please. Call my case manager and take me to the hospital. I do not want to go back to that home. They are mean there. I do not want to go back.”
I used my cell phone to call for an ambulance. He had run, barefoot, quite a ways. We were about 100 or more yards from the park parking lot and the neighborhood from which he had run.
“Do you want me to meet the medics and bring them to you or can you walk out?”
“I want to come with you.”
The man held out his hand and I guided him from the bushes. He took my arm. His hand was soft and pudgy, but he held my arm like I was a guiding force of light for him. He shuffled slowly and talked the entire way back to the road.
His name is Roy and he has been in care homes for a long time.
As he was placed on a gurney and hoisted into the ambulance he was smiling a little closed mouth smile. And he thanked me for helping him.
As I walked home the enormity of gratitude that I felt for a chance to be Roy’s angel gave me a buoyancy of spirit, even as I realized that Roy was my angel more than I was his. I said a prayer that those who can help my loved ones will recognize the need when and if the time comes.
I took this experience as a hopeful sign.
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