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Taking a Sad Song, Making it Better

~ Discovering joy amid pain

Taking a Sad Song, Making it Better

Category Archives: Lifelong friends

Thankfulness for Tiny Breaks

16 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by purdywords in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Birthdays, Blessings, Intentional Living, Lifelong friends, New Year New You, Peace, Personal health, Perspective, Rest, Simple Living, Simplicity, Thankfulness

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#30DaysofThanks, 30 Days of Thanks, Birthdays, Gifts, Life lessons, Peace, Personal growth, Perspective, Relaxation, Rest and Rejuvenation, Simplicity, Slowing down

“Rest and be thankful.” ~ William Wordsworth

 

Three days ago, I had the pleasure of celebrating another 40-something birthday for which I am glad. My husband and children showered me with their love and attention, and I was thrilled to be surprised by a few handwritten cards in the mail from dear friends. To myself, I gave the gift of a deliberately slow week, taking my time through the most important tasks, letting the non-essentials go, moving away from the computer screen, cutting myself some slack, and indulging in some overdo self-care. I’m grateful to be more self-aware this year than I have ever been in the past, and that I honored this newfound truth on my birthday. Permission to rest may be the perfect gift one can give to thyself.  

 

Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop. ~ Ovid

 

Expressing Gratitude for Unfailing Friendship

04 Saturday Nov 2017

Posted by purdywords in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Friendship, Lifelong friends, Motherhood, Perspective, Prayer, Prayers, Thankfulness

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#30DaysofThanks, 30 Days of Thanks, Friendship, Gratefulness, Gratitude, Lifelong friends, Prayer

The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship. ~William Blake

 

Spending time on the couch this afternoon confiding in a dear friend about the woes and triumphs we face was time well spent. Wise beyond her years, my friend seems to always know what to say in a thoughtful and confident manner. She offers perspectives that are enlightening and encouraging, with empathetic words that affirm, restore, and uplift. Somehow, we get each other and always have been able to see the truth and value in the other. We pray and involve one another in our deepest of sorrows, most appalling revelations, and haunting moments of grief. Our rejoice is pure and exuberant for each other when happy times and blessed events are shared. Never do we take for granted the other, nor hold a grudge or make assumptions when long periods of absence by phone or visit are necessary. Although there is a great distance between us in calendar years, the gap is seamless. Over the years, we have grown in appreciation of and dedication to our friendship with one another and acknowledge that the companionship we’ve cultivated only continues to beautify with age. How utterly grateful I am to know a dear friend who accepts me as I am, and whom unceasingly blesses and nourishes me with her pure existence and genuine presence in my life. 

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. ~Henri Nouwen

Grateful for Family, Friends, and Faith: Days 8-10 (30 Days of Thanks)

10 Sunday Nov 2013

Posted by purdywords in 30 Days of Thanks, Blessings, Change, Friendship, Lifelong friends, Love, Past, Perspective, Prayers

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30 Days of Thanks, Lifelong friends, Personal growth, Positive change

In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. ~ Albert Schweitzer

The weekend was full of great and wonderful things, and for this reason, I gladly stepped away from the computer for a couple of days. My Friday through Saturday was spent enjoying time with out-of-town guests—some friends of mine who have always felt like family to me since our first encounter one fall day many years ago. That day would prove to be a fateful one for all of us involved. They came into my life at a time when they needed someone to help them out in enormous ways due to an unfortunate health crisis that they neither expected nor would be prepared to face alone.

Fresh out of college, I had a couple of going-nowhere jobs, was deeply discouraged, and felt lost in the world–stuck, really. Facing rapid burn-out and the dying-out of out of my idealistic nature, I yearned for a gap year. I needed the time to think and plan out how I was going to refocus my career efforts to match my personal goals. At the time, I knew I could always earn money as bookseller or in a café position at the local Barnes and Noble, perhaps pick up a server job on the side as I embarked on this necessary quest to utilize my degree in a meaningful way. When I took the time to ask myself and pray about what I was seeking, my answer was always the same: truth, meaningful experiences, significant internal change, love, and to make a difference in someone else’s life.

After mass one Sunday, I scoured the want ads and came across a job posting for a nanny position. Because I had worked as a mother’s helper between my junior and senior years of college, held plenty of babysitting jobs back home, and thought it might be just the type of work that could be equal parts fulfilling and fun for the year, I phoned the agency and landed an interview with this family on the spot. Soon thereafter, I was employed as their full-time nanny and fully immersed in their life as it was back then–a mix of crisis and relief, ongoing medical and therapeutic interventions, and the everyday happenings of a family trying to balance out normal during a shocking and trying time. Immediately, they enveloped me with their characteristically loving way and I soon became one of them. Quickly, I felt nothing but gratitude and love each day as I set about helping them to maintain some kind of normalcy while they focused on reviving the health and well-being of their young girls. At the time, I didn’t know just how much my heart, mind, and spirit would be stretched; how I would grow as a person and how greatly my perspective would change just by living among this one, incredible family. Nor, did I have any idea that fourteen years later this family would remain such a large part of my life.

If we are lucky enough in life, we will meet one person who will be the catalyst to our personal growth. Their impact will leave indelible marks on our hearts, perhaps change our behaviors, even increase our faith in love and God. These are the types of people who stick with us for always–whether they continue to share in our life or not. Some people can shape and mold us into who we’re meant to become. These friends of mine who came in for a visit this past weekend helped change my life and perspective years ago by living out their lives with integrity and care. They worked hard at putting their family and love above all else during an especially difficult time in their lives. They are friends who became like a second family to me and I’ll always consider them such.

Fourteen  years ago, I was seeking out an intense life-changing experience, one that would lead me out of the depths of my despair and into the light of life, turning me toward the path I was meant to take. My prayers were answered in the form of this one family seeking a trustworthy helper while they faced an uncertain, desperate time. I’m not sure if they knew it then or have figured it out since, but I needed them that year just as much as they needed me. My gratitude today is for their enduring friendship and all the lessons they etched on my heart, mind, and soul.

Inner-peace and perspective

24 Saturday Aug 2013

Posted by purdywords in Blessings, Friendship, Glorifying God, Lifelong friends, Love, Miscarriage, Peace, Prayers, Writing

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Blessings, Friendship, Gifts, Healing, Peace, Prayer, Writing

If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.  ~Mother Teresa

Today is a new day and for this, I am glad.

Yesterday was equal parts tragedy and healing. The only way I came through it was by the prayers and heartfelt sentiments from my husband and beloved family and friends. Love surrounded me, engulfed my being, took hold of my heart and the pain seemed to fly away on angels’ wings. Only a few times before have I been so aware of His graces showering over me. I needed a showering like that yesterday. So, if you prayed for me or sent some goodness my way, I thank you with heartfelt gladness.

Somehow, running mundane errands and walking a bit through Uptown with Baby Girl (while my other little loves were happily learning and playing at their schools) was just what I needed. We spent a quiet, low-key, no-hush sort of day together and it was the perfect ailment to my hurt and the illness she’s been fighting the last few days. After the morning school drop-off, I could not go back home. I just couldn’t face housework and small reminders of loss. And, deep down, I knew that what I truly needed was a change in routine. That meant heading outdoors with my Baby Girl to breathe in the fresh, late-summer air and let the sun shine down upon our cheeks and shoulders while we listened for the birds chirping their mid-morning tunes. For a moment, I pondered going for a hike, but she was still too ill to take on much more than a small outing. Instead, she and I walked and wondered together—hand in hand–marveling at God’s beauty all around us, rejoicing in the change of pace from our typical Friday.  She was so well-behaved while I finished those few errands. So well-mannered, in fact that the extra time we had allowed us to peruse around new shops, and revisit some old favorites. We strolled along admiring so many precious things, and I have to admit, we indulged in a little retail therapy, too! (What’s a girl to do when she sees a designer bag that she’s been coveting on super-clearance sale? [For Me] Or, a stuffed animal cat donning a tutu? [Of course, for Baby Girl] I mean, a beautiful purse and a cat wearing a tutu! What can be better than that?) Some things are just meant to be had.

All shopping was done and we found our way back home. To my amazement, peace surrounded me the moment I entered inside. The sense of contentment was felt in the air, but also deep inside me. I knew the prayers were working.

Graces were abundant as I received some unexpected, thoughtful, sentimental treasures throughout the day. First, there was a gift from a best friend who, unfortunately, understands my pain because she, herself, has suffered through three miscarriages. Firstly, the cards this woman writes to me are treasure troves in and of themselves. I have saved every single one of them that she has penned to me over the years as our relationship has grown into the deep and profound friendship we now share. The card she sent for me to read yesterday is filled with words so wise and heartfelt that moved me in so many ways. Her written words are a keepsake—a reminder of love from a kindred spirit. The physical gifts she presents are equally meaningful and lovely. Yesterday’s gift was no exception. A beautiful treasure to receive, it now hangs prominently in our front entryway and will be a daily reminder of how blessed we are to have a family to cherish—a combination of loved ones both here on earth and in heaven.

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The gifts of expressive love continued as I heard a knock at my front door and found the local flower delivery person holding a beautiful white floral arrangement for me. I did not have to wonder who would send me such gorgeous flowers in the middle of the day—none only than one of my dearest, oldest, best friends. This woman—someone I have considered an honorary sister for the last 18 years—has lifted me up in prayer countless times, sends me uplifting Bible verses via text or email, and spoils me with beautiful flowers at times when I least expect such a gift. She lives 2,500 miles away, now, but there are days when it feels to me she and I are closer than ever before. She is my sister in Christ and her soft-spoken words and graceful ways have blessed me abundantly.

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My children, unknowing and innocent, went about their day as they always do. But, I noticed that I was being awarded from them extra compliments and physical affections. The Boy even exclaimed, “Mom, you are the best cook ever!” A miraculous exclamation coming from this seriously picky eater! Baby Girl needed held and rocked more than usual, was hugging and kissing me all day long. The Girl, was kind in her exchanges, helpful around the house, and even finished homework without complaint. I wasn’t going to question the meaning of it all. So, I took it in as small gifts of love and sympathy from my three little loves.

The Husband and I share in this grief, of course. But as men often do, he expresses his feelings of loss and needs for recovery much differently than I do. I tend to be outward with my emotions while he holds back. I write, he runs. Yesterday, his little ways of checking in on me, coming home with a bouquet of my favorite flowers, letting me cry as much as I need to, allowing me to have a couple of hours to myself to exercise and be alone—these are his gifts to me. For his ability to sense what I need in times of sadness, somehow knowing exactly what I need when I can’t even tell him myself, having an insider’s edge to my innermost being—these are gifts greater than any other.  God knew what He was doing in matching The Husband and I together for life. I trust that my prayers for My Husband over these grieving months have helped him come to terms with losing another child, too.

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When I wrote that love letter to my angel baby, John, I felt it was time to put into writing all that I had been holding inside. Now that I have released my thoughts, I feel lighter and more at peace than I have in the last six months. Writing truly is therapy. So are love, friendship, and prayer. Today, I am thankful for another day to love and be loved, to write, and pray.

Lamenting Boston

18 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by purdywords in Change, Friendship, Lifelong friends, Memories, Peace, Tough days

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Boston

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.  ~Maya Angelou

Peace – that was the other name for home.  ~Kathleen Norris

It was half-past three and I chose to check my mobile phone to see if I missed a call or text message. Indeed, I had. My younger sister had texted to inform me of the explosions at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. It took a few seconds for me to register this ungodly act and I quickly returned the call. Hearing the details coming from my youngest sibling, the marathoner—she who ran this elite race in 2011—was heartbreaking and there sank my heart. My beloved city, scarred by a senseless act of violence; the race of all races, now stigmatized by this heartless plot.

Soon thereafter, I began receiving text messages and emails from friends. Was I in Boston for the race? No, I was not. Did The Husband run this year? No, but he plans to run in 2014. These caring, dear friends of mine from the time I lived in the outskirts of Beantown were doing what we all do when tragedy strikes—contacting loved ones near and far via social media, through email, by phone—to get a sense that all was okay even in the face of danger. I have never been more grateful to receive such an outpouring of love and concern, not only because I felt especially loved with each new message, but because hearing from each of them meant that they were okay, too.

A distinct number of Monday’s messages came to me from a unique group of ladies I have cherished for almost 12 years. A unique set of circumstances brought each of us to Boston long ago before scattering away to different states, marriages, and jobs. We lived together in a three-story house converted into three separate apartments, while a few friends rented their own place just around the corner. On Saturdays, we enjoyed meeting for a much-needed hangover cure or gossip session at Sealy’s café. As a group, we couldn’t be more different in style choices or politics, nor lifestyle and love interests. Our differences did not divide and we found much reason to come together over a homemade brunch plate; always unified over delicious coffee and amazingly greasy bacon.

Unity carried us through while we collectively faced one of the most challenging and confusing times of our young lives as September 11, 2011, happened while we all lived in close proximity to each other. On the day that changed us and the rest of the world forever, we gathered together inside my E. Milton Rd. apartment and stayed close to each other all of us huddled together on the blue cotton furniture some of us upright and cross-legged on the hardwood floor with all sets of eyes glued to the television. I remember silence and tears with fears rising and anxiety high as we listened to military planes screaming in flight above us patrolling Boston from partly cloudy skies. As we sat still—a group of women typically animated and loquacious—we remained in awe of what we were seeing, hearing and reading. We stayed with the news reports, keeping comfort by wrapping our bodies in blankets and warmed the solicitous chills felt deep in our bones by holding tight to steaming mugs of coffee. Mesmerized, we watched America’s heartache as it unfolded on instant replay of the towers that crumbled before our eyes, another flight terrorized to its demise in a Pennsylvania field, and the third crashing into the Pentagon. Now, almost twelve years later we find ourselves mourning once again and living in the aftermath of horrific acts and the fear of what might come next.

Sadly, we all can’t gather together today. Long gone are the days when love and friendship was as easy and comfortable as refilling each other’s coffee cup as a gesture of healing one another through the pain. Geography makes it impossible for the group to crowd together in one tiny apartment in a house that we no longer share. Nor can we just turn the bend and knock on the door to a home that once housed three friends inside, always glad to see us. Sealy’s has closed its doors, too, and it’s just as well.

Despite the varied challenges of time and place, comfort and healing can be ours, albeit by different measures. No matter the circumstance, we can hang onto a little bit of what we lived yesterday and remain bound to the city that forever knitted our lives to one another—Boston—well-lived by countless others before my friends and I made our mark on the landscape and each other. And like so many of its past and present inhabitants, my friends and I remain connected by the charm and graces of New England’s best urban spot and unite our sorrows to the heartache of Boston’s people and grieve the integrity that was lost on Patriot’s Day 2013, in the heart of our favored, most treasured city.

A Friend for Always

16 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by purdywords in Change, Friendship, Lifelong friends

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Change, Friendship

The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.  ~Elisabeth Foley

The saying “there’s no friend like an old friend” has always been true to the friendships I have made during the decades of my life. Probably my closest, most cherished friend is one whom I met in third grade. I can’t tell you exactly when or how we became friends in Mrs. Rembey’s third grade class. (Was it that our desks sat close to each other in the first row facing the green chalkboard? Did we happen to eat with each other in the cafeteria? I doubt it was playing games at recess, she being a natural athlete and myself, well, not so much.) What I can tell you about this friendship that I have enjoyed since the age of nine, is that she is a gem of a person—one worth holding onto for a lifetime.

In fourth grade, we suffered the devastating news that we would not be in the same classroom that school year. It was a tough blow, but not as difficult as the time toward the end of the year when I had to tell her that my family would be moving away from the beloved New England state where our friendship was forged and blossomed and back to either my home state of Pennsylvania or to some foreign land called “Ohio.” We made the best of it, but tears were shed. My memory recalls a desperate attempt to keep me there by asking her mom to adopt me (Hey, at least my parents would have my other three siblings to care for and love. They’d hardly miss me!) Our plight was turned down, but not without pain in her mother’s eyes coupled with an anguished smile to send us on our way. We tried and failed then, but our initial failure would be conquered by eagerness to stay in touch in the pre-Internet era with random phones calls, cards, and the occasional handwritten letter by me (not her).

Years passed us by and I grew up in a small farming community in that foreign state called Ohio. My family and I traded in living across the street from the town high school within walking distance of everything convenient for quite a different lifestyle.  It was my parents’ dual dream to own a rural home surrounded by acreage amidst a forest of beautiful trees, and a place to plant a flourishing vegetable garden and rose bushes galore. Driven by this ideal, our lives were transplanted from one universe to another, it seemed. I truly believe my mom begged my dad to buy the house I ultimately called home just because of the lilac bush that bloomed with gushing flowers of deeply purple fragrance in view from the breakfast nook tucked inside. This new country home of ours was situated across a winding, gravel road overlooking a working farm with horses, sheep, and an annoyingly prompt rooster. In the days and nights that followed this sudden move from a place I truly loved, I grew accustomed to a new, calmer lifestyle and learned to appreciate the surprisingly different landscape that I was sure I was going to hate. (There are no mountains in Ohio? No beach like the Cape?) The years ticked by and during the first nights in this strange new home, I experienced my first bouts of insomnia that have plagued me at stressful times in my life since.  It was difficult for me to relax without a little bit of noise. I had to trade listening to cars driving by at night along the New England roads I was used to as I now fell asleep to the sound of nothing except the occasional chirp of crickets. After a few months of living in rural America, I succumbed to the quiet loneliness at night and peacefully surrendered to nature at its best—during both the day and night. As my heart softened and new friendships were forged, I slowly began to forget all about New England life and the short time I spent there, but never forgot my dear friend no matter the space between us.

During our senior year of high school, I traded a spot on my high school’s annual senior class trip to WashingtonD.C. for a first trip back to my former New England home. Flying into LoganAirport, I felt exhilarated and free. Although I did not stay with my dear friend during this visit, we did spend a lot of time together and that short time was magic. Even though we grew into somewhat larger versions of our elementary school selves we learned that our differences were apparent. But differences aside, those few days together proved that hardly anything had changed between us–especially in our fondness for each other—as we caught up from our fourth grade selves to the present. During those nine years that flashed by in an instant, we found small ways to stay connected, and I believe these minor attempts definitely helped to keep our friendship real and strong. Even if we hadn’t though, I believe our lives would have crossed eventually. My trip was cut short due to the sudden death of my grandfather and my subsequent departure to Pittsburgh in order to attend the funeral and be there for my family. But the little time my friend and I shared during my short stay opened doors to a new path for us and possibilities of continuing a lifelong friendship. As we laughed in awe about how we chose the same teal green prom dress, talked about our current boyfriends, caught up on family life, shared dreams,  discussed the colleges we would attend as well as the compounding fears we held for what was awaiting us in the very near future, my friend and I solidified our lifelong friendship—because that’s exactly what we were—friends at nine, at 18, and later on as I lived a two-year tryst in Boston during our tumultuous yet exhilarating 20’s where I held my first job in publishing—we were friends then, now and forever.

Sometimes different friends come and go in our lives for a plethora of reasons, and I have made peace with that fact of life. But, some friends are friends for life. No matter our differences (and there are many) my lifelong friend and I accept and love one another for who we are, what we’ve been in the past, who we’ve become now, and even what we might be looking deep into the future. Every day I think of her. Every day I wish she could just come over after a long day of work (and in my case, parenting three children) and share a steaming pot of tea. But, I know she is living the life she is meant to live in that beloved, enchanted New England place surrounded by her family and with the love of her life.  And I— I came back to that once foreign place called Ohio to marry my soul mate and make a life of my own. But, when I think about the years ahead, I know that I have at least one true friend I can count on to share in all the joy and the pain that life provides. And, no matter the time or distance between us, we are friends for the long haul.

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