Meanwhile

In the Meantime
From At the Orphans' Door by Tom Hirons. (Feral Angels Press, 2023. www.tomhirons.com)

Meanwhile, flowers still bloom.
The moon rises, and the sun.
Babies smile and somewhere,
Against all odds,
Two people are falling in love.

Strangers share cigarettes and jokes.
Light plays on the surface of water.
Grace occurs on unlikely streets
And we hold each other fast
Against entropy, the fires and the flood.

Life leans towards living
And, while death claims all things at the end,
There were such precious times between,
In which everything was radiant
And we loved, again, this world.

---

That poem, “In the Meantime,” is the poem that inspired me to launch this blog. Just after I had spun a tide of misery to a compassionate listening friend, she sent me the poem. The idea of a blog had been stirring in me for a long time, but I hadn’t quite managed to find a focus. When I read “In the Meantime,” something finally clicked. With bell-like clarity, I instantly knew I wanted to use my meditations and writing to explore those times when I — or others — “loved, again, this world.”

The poem’s first word, “meanwhile” is such a useful word, isn’t it? At the same time one thing is happening, something else entirely different is probably happening, too. Microsoft Bing lifted up these useful examples when I googled the word:

1. in the intervening period of time:

   "Julie has meanwhile found herself another dancing partner"

   • at the same time:

     "steam for another five minutes; meanwhile, make a white sauce"

Remember Madelyn Lee Payne Dunham? Okay, probably not. I didn’t. But I remembered something important about her — enough to look her up. (It has been a busy day of googling things.) Madelyn Lee Payne Dunham died in Honolulu on November 2, 2008. She was 86 years old. Grandma. Great-Grandma. Cherished.

Meanwhile, her beloved grandson, Barack Obama, was at the finishing stretch of his campaign for President of the United States. According to President Obama, who made public comments about his grandmother a day after her death, "She was one of those quiet heroes that we have all across America. They're not famous. Their names are not in the newspapers, but each and every day they work hard. They aren't seeking the limelight. All they try to do is just do the right thing." Obama Pays Tribute to His Grandmother After She Dies - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

Obama was elected just two days after the grandmother who raised him died. That’s an incredible “meanwhile.” As in: My grandmother just died. Meanwhile, I was just elected President.

Many of us have similar, dramatic “meanwhiles,” although, admittedly they are usually much more private than Obama’s had to be. Just a few short weeks after my child was born, my uncle died. I remember standing at the graveside with my newborn baby in my arms, my heart wide open, feeling the collision of joy that new life had presented and sorrow that death had unleashed. My baby was born. Meanwhile, my uncle was dying. My uncle died. Meanwhile, my little baby was growing.

Or this “meanwhile”: For a stretch of time, I took care of my father on weekends when he was declining because of Alzheimer’s disease. During that period, I missed all the weekend activities my spouse, son, and I typically would have engaged in together. One was the annual church fair, an event I always looked forward to. Imagine my sadness as I drove past the church on my way to my father’s house that weekend. Imagine my astonishment when someone later called me from the church to tell me I had won the quilt raffle. The quilt raffle? I hadn’t even entered! I was taking care of my father at the time! But meanwhile, my husband was taking care of me by purchasing a raffle ticket in my name. I can’t erase the sadness and difficulty of my father’s Alzheimer’s years. But meanwhile, every time I settle that quilt onto the bed, I feel the love of both family and church.

Isn’t it amazing that the human heart has the capacity to hold so much? That we can simultaneously carry and feel immense joy and sorrow? Disappointment and elation? Disillusionment and inspiration?

One can regard those “meanwhile” moments from at least two different perspectives. One can state the positive first, then countering it with the negative. (I was elected President. Meanwhile my grandmother died.) Seeing things state way emphasizes the negative. Or, one can choose the opposite viewpoint. (My grandmother died. Meanwhile I was elected President!) That latter viewpoint puts the accent mark on the positive. Neither way of seeing things is right or wrong. Emphasizing the positive simply can be more self-nurturing than emphasizing the negative.

We live in a world where the media (whether professional or social) loves to revel in the negative. Something about “the world is falling apart” grabs people’s attention. We click the bait and our hearts plummet. At least that is true for me. But it’s pretty hard on the heart and soul to dwell in a sea of negativity all the time. For me, it is lifesaving and energy-giving to search out the positive “meanwhile” moments. Those moments feed me and propel me forward to do whatever work I can do to build a better world.

Within the past couple of weeks, I have been diagnosed with both Lyme disease and a fractured vertebra in my lumbar spine (or, as the NP exclaimed, “Oh! You have a broken back!”). I am in considerable pain most of the time. With treatment, I expect to learn how to mitigate the pain, and, of course, I hope to heal as much as possible.

But meanwhile, this weekend our son came to visit. On the way from his house to ours, he stopped at a nearby farm and picked two quarts of strawberries so that we could make strawberry shortcake together in honor of Father’s Day. Normally, my husband and I would have gone berry picking with our son, berry picking being a long-time favorite family activity. This year that wasn’t in the cards. But, meanwhile, our family made shortcake together and had a wonderful and fun celebration. We are ‘holding each other fast, against entropy, the fires and the flood.’

Yes, my physical challenges right now are depressing, painful, and concerning. But, meanwhile, the strawberries are ripe in Maine now. And I have a beloved, thoughtful son. Guess where I prefer to place my heart and attention!

Love,

Sylvia