Mindful Monday - Tribute

I was very sad to learn last Wednesday that Maya Angelou had died. Although she was 86, I think I somehow expected her to live on indefinitely. I was touched by the outpouring of tributes, memories, photos, and articles about her on social media, not only that day but for several days thereafter. She clearly touched the lives of a wide array of people--including some who don't otherwise agree on much.

Ever since I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in high school, Ms. Angelou has been an inspiration and an important teacher to me, as she has to millions. I continued to read her other books and poetry and was struck by how much life she had somehow packed into a single lifetime.

I recall watching an interview she did with Oprah Winfrey in May of last year, as my mother was dying. I knew mom would want to see the interview if she were well enough to watch it, but it had become so hard for mom to focus that I ended up watching it without her.

I enjoyed being reminded of so many wonderful Maya Angelou quotes last week. The one below has often guided me during the past year as I've struggled in mom's absence to try to deal with my dad and all his health concerns, including some memory and other cognitive challenges.

I remember the first day that it occurred to me to focus on this wisdom, after a difficult stretch with my dad. He visibly softened, and we had the best day together that we'd had in quite some time. Whenever I felt frustrated or uncertain about what to do, I would silently paraphrase Ms. Angelou's words to myself, with dad specifically in mind: "[Dad] will forget what you said, [he] will forget what you did, but [he] will never forget how you made [him] feel." As I left dad's house that evening, he seemed more content than he had in weeks. And when we said our goodbyes for the night, dad actually said to me, "You really made me feel good today."

It's quite an exercise in mindfulness to notice how your actions in the present moment are affecting those you are with. Another valuable exercise, of course, is noting your own feelings. I'm fortunate to be able to say that I always felt safe and supported in my mother's presence. I don't have her grace, but I hope I have at least learned from her how to be supportive of others.

The rest of my week doesn't seem all that worthy of a mindfulness check-in, as I have little new to report. I'm still meditating daily and trying to exercise more. I'm eating mindfully, but not all that moderately. I've made significant progress with clutter clearing, which feels good, even with so much yet do to. And I did read another book. It was non-fiction, this time (which is far more typical for me): Learning to Walk In the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. The book was every bit as good as I expected it to be. Among other things, it was a reminder that darkness isn't all bad.

In spite of considerable reflecting, I haven't done much writing recently. As we approach the first anniversary of mom's death this month, I'll probably do more journaling. Just as darkness isn't all bad, grief isn't all bad, either. It's part of living, learning, and growing.