Three hours in and I’m finally getting to write. I do enjoy seeing everything that those I follow share, and it is easy enough to go through while listening to mom tell me the same thing she told me yesterday and the day before and the day before, yet again. She will be in the midst of a conversation and something will ping her memory and she will manage to make that story fit right in. I don’t mind, because it really doesn’t matter if I’ve heard that story before. There are times, especially when she is remembering things from her youth or the earlier part of her and dad’s marriage that she will remember something new.
I’ve also been sitting here watching out the window, on guard against the cats who are showing an intense interest in the birds this morning. If I had not set up the feeder, it would be different. With the birds visiting the feeder, it gives me the guilt feelings of almost having set them up for death by feral cat. Even as I know it is a cat’s nature, but this seems as unfair as baiting a field for deer.
It reminds me of the Roman soldiers placed to guard the tomb. I wonder what they thought, what they discussed as the hours dragged by. From the moment the stone was rolled in front of the tomb and they were put in place, what were their thoughts? Was there a changing of the guard of sorts, where fresh guards replaced the original? Did they discuss their assignment of guarding the tomb of one considered dead? Did they question how there could be a threat?I wonder if the hours dragged by for them, slow and torturous in the passing. What or who may have come too near only to be ordered away? How attentive were they, to their assignment, there on that day of despair?
I wonder, how much we stand guard over our own life? How protective are we, to what is within our soul? What do we allow to move too close, or even enter within our life and life style? Have we possibly, pushed a stone in front of the entrance to our heart and soul, wrongly seeking to protect it from what life offers?
I will be the first to admit that I have made my mistakes in life. I have allowed emotions, desires, even people to enter my life and cause me to wander down the wrong path. The good thing is that the guard at the stone have always gotten my attention at some point and helped me to return to the correct road for my journey. I wondered often why, there seemed to be times that it took longer for the guards to appear, but I believe, that no journey is without lessons of worth.
It is in the realization that we have need to turn around that is important. Taking the lessons learned with us, we move to regain our footing and move forward. Understanding that it may take a while to return, we keep walking.
I know too, that life has a way of causing damage to the spirit of individuals. In an attempt to prevent further pain, we roll that stone before our heart and cry no more. Standing guard, seeking to protect and prevent. Storing life and living away in a dark, sheltered tomb. Waiting, until the day, wondering if there ever will be the day, when the stone will be rolled away.