Foam Hearts

Susan Worf is a long time friend of my mother's who lived just down the street from us back in the old days of our cozy home on the hill. Susan has been battling cancer for as long as I can remember and last week she was given a time frame of two weeks to a month to live. I remember as a young girl seeing her in church, sitting perfectly upright in the pew, her reading glasses at the end of her narrow nose, her frail shoulders draped in a black shawl and every week a brightly patterned scarf or soft fabric hat would adorn her hairless head. She was a gentle woman who never complained about the disease that has controlled her life for so many years.

When my sweet Mama heard about Susan's latest diagnosis she sat at the kitchen table and wept for her friend. One of the things I love most about my Mom is that she allows herself a moment of tears, but before they are done drying on her cheeks she is up and moving. Instead of calling Susan and making the empty offer, "Let me know if there is anything I can do" she instantly thought of things that would help someone slipping away to do it in the most comfortable manner possible. Within the next couple of days Mama set up a private harp concert in Susan's home to help her feel the spirit through the beautiful and soothing music. The next day she picked Susan up and took her to have a full body massage. Before she dashed out the door, she enlisted the help of Gabriel and I in tying ribbons to giant foam hearts which she asked us to hang on the tree in front of the Worf home while she had Susan out of the house. Of course we agreed to help, grateful to have an opportunity to be apart of alleviating her pain in some small way.

As Gabe and I tied little knots around thin branches, I stood back for a moment, looking at the swaying hearts on the spindly winter tree. It struck me suddenly that the tree looked so very dead with crinkled autumn leaves still clinging stubbornly to the snow covered limbs. I thought to myself that perhaps the tree really was dead, that the spark of life would not be lit again. Winter had taken its tole. It made me sad to think the tree would bloom no more. At that moment a sharp wind whipped through the yard, chilling me to the bone and making the crispy leaves, foamy hearts and spindly branches shake, shudder and dance. No, the tree was not dead at all! Supposing even the spirit had fled for this season and the hollow remains left cold and empty, an eventual Spring will come! The rejuvenating power of sun and rain will breathe life back into the lifeless wood and buds of green will reappear! So it will be for Susan. Though her body (her earthly temple) might be left behind this Winter with so many hearts left behind that have been tied to her in this life, her Spring will come! Body and soul will be reunited again and she will stand with flowing hair, sharp eyes and strong limbs again. I know the resurrection is real and I know it is a gift we will each have the opportunity to partake of.

I felt very grateful at that moment for a loving Mother, a barren tree and foam hearts.