The Bitter-Sweet

I've decided what makes my post different from some of the others that are read is that it is personal. I allow my readers to get a glimpse of my thoughts and reality. That is why today I entitled this the "The Bitter-Sweet."

What does that mean? When you carry the love of another within you, there is the pain of separation, a genuine longing to be with the other, which creates a happiness and sadness at the same time, as your heart brings to mind a need. You wait for their phone call, message, or picture sent to your cell-phone. The days are long when you don't hear from them. You remember their voice, the sound of their laughter, their smile and this is the bitter-sweet.

St. Michael's Church has lost another communicant of it's parish. A long-standing member, Michael. It seems like yesterday, we heard and saw him at our church picnic full of life, singing, enjoying friends, family and reminiscing. His family tells me, that he had a good passing. I was not surprised to hear that this cantor, and loving father would have left in any other manner. He is with his wife now. Love will always continue for this kind man. When my children were little, I would take them shopping to Piggly-Wiggly, then Save-A-Lot, to purchase my groceries, and he being retired, was the bagger. I always looked forward to seeing him and engaging in conversation. I will always remember his smile and kindness toward the children. It is bitter that he is gone, but sweet that Jesus awaits this good and faithful servant.

My dad taught me something about death. All physical life ends and whether it is bitter or sweet depends on you. While he was at the funeral parlor, I recall seeing the many plants that I had in a sunny room, moving and alive. The contrast struck me. My cousin Karen gave my mother some bitter-sweet at the funeral home, representing the bitter-sweet gathering.

This is the time of year we see bitter-sweet in nature. Yesterday, I saw the biggest, fattest robin ever on my dwarf, red, Japanese Maple tree in front of my picture window. It was sweet to see her back here, and I welcomed it as a sign of spring. Saw another this morning as I took in my twenty-minute walk. I wondered as I slowly stepped looking to take-in some vitamin D, while I was dressed in boots, fur and a Russian-style red hat, if this bird would get enough worms. Oddly enough, like bitter-sweet, the ground is partly frozen and partly exposed. Sure enough, where the land was, so was the food.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that it is all figured out. A time table for all things. The little bumps are starting to form on the forsythia, and if you look really closely at the trees, some of them are showing more color in their stems. Signs of spring are here now, even though it is extremely cold and icy. There is a hungering within without satiating. A glimpse and recollection of what was and will be again. An empty gnawing and longing.

For no matter how sweet things are right now, or bitter, life was meant to be, bitter-sweet.

My dad used to say, "you've got to take the good with the bad." And, that means bitter-sweet.