Let It Be Beautiful, Let Her Come Home

When I think about what death could be like, what I want it to be (as I’m not sure I believe in traditional notions of a literal “heaven”), it would be described something like this song. And in her last days, I found myself wanting this for my mother; I was thinking that if I could convey this vision for her, it might help her be less afraid. But I had no idea how to paint that picture, so instead I just told her not to worry about us, her four children, that we were all doing OK, and that we would take care of each other. And she told me, with characteristic grumpiness “I wasn’t worried!” Which made me laugh. My mother made me laugh and feel loved and supported. She wrote me the sweetest letters while I was away at college, that I recently unearthed and reread in the midst of emptying the house of its contents, to be sold last spring/summer. My mother Judy passed away on Thursday April 14th, before I got a chance to talk to her again, and hopefully now she is truly “home” - in that way we all will be eventually. It’s a beautiful song, and a lovely thing for which I can hope.

“Enter One” ~ by Sol Seppy

After a storm

I want to be brave

And keep you warm

And not fade away

As we float from the shore

Into the light

Into the unknown

Like thousands of lanterns

Glowing with grace

In glorious silence

Descending through space

To a friend

A sister in need

Who is not alone

And they are surrounding her

And they will enfold her outstretched hand

In our love

Into the light

It's hard to believe

It's always been ours to give

And to receive

I want to be shameless like the sun

Moving into you

Entering light

Welcome

Inshallah, Inshallah

Enter one

Amazing grace is pouring down

Fear not this light

We are of this light divine

So come

We move as one

Amazing grace is pouring down

Fear not this light

We are on this light divine

Welcome, enter one

After a storm

I wanna let go

Of the things that I've done

Without any worry

I wanna come home

Into the light

Into the unknown

I want to be shameless

Like the sun

Moving into you

Entering light

Welcome

Inshallah, Inshallah

Enter one

Amazing grace is pouring down

Fear not this light

We are on this light divine

So come

We move as one

Amazing grace is pouring down

Fear not this light

We are on this light divine

Welcome, enter one

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Sophie Michalitsianos

Enter One lyrics © Emi Music Publishing

This is The Month

Tomorrow morning at 7am I’ll be on the trail in Withlacoochee State Forest starting my first ever ultramarathon - the Croom Fools Run.

I’ve written recently on this blog about all my enthusiastic running but just to recap: I ran my first full marathon in 2001 because I set a goal of doing it before I turned 30. Quickly after that I ran my first half marathon, and surprised myself by being faster than I ever thought possible. I didn’t run regularly again until 2016 but when I did I picked it back up with a vengeance! What started with training to do a half marathon together with work friends as a lark, turned into over the last six years another full marathon, 5 15ks, a few 10ks, bunch of 5ks, (random 8k and 4 mile distance races in there also), and 21 more half marathons (for a total of 22 completed all told), my very favorite race distance.  

Athlinks.com does a great job of compiling all your races and allows you to sort and filter them different ways: Michele Hirning's Race History and Times

And now tomorrow another age related goal - to do an ultra before I turn 50.  I’m so excited!  (And, truthfully, a little bit terrified as well.)

I’m really looking forward to it also because I had such a good experience last weekend, all on my own (without my beloved running buddy), driving a couple hours north, staying at a hotel over night, and doing a half marathon the next morning, nice and easy, just to get the miles under my belt & to be semi-ready for this race. 

So this afternoon I’ll head up north and do it again. Unlike the half marathon my running buddy and I just did in New Orleans, where I killed myself to get as close to a 2 hour pace as possible (photo below of me high-fiving the race pacer who cheered me on to my PR), the last half and tomorrow’s race is all about just doing the miles, tomorrow more miles than I have ever done before - yikes!

And later this month I’ll celebrate seven years of sobriety, the sort of “platform” of my life, the thing which makes everything else, including all this running, possible. 

At the beginning of my 40s I felt depressed and anxious, directionless, out of shape and exhausted, my life almost completely without joy or purpose. Now at the end of my 40s I just feel so different (to quote a Sinead O’Conner song from long ago that I still love). And I feel lucky, lucky, lucky, to have made it to the other side of that crisis (which is essentially chronicled on this blog, if you go back and read it sequentially), and to feel so excited, hopeful and full of energy for all that lies ahead.