Joy #1

by caccy46

I have learned to pay homage to the tragedies in my life because they have tought me to feel pure, utter joy, when it makes its rare appearance, in a most complete and inexplicable way. It happened last night with a phone call from my daughter, travelling through Israel - her voice was delightful, happy, recounting the moving, funny and sad accounts of her past week. She said, "Mommy, I am having the most amazing time I've ever had in my whole life - I am meeting people who have shared their lives with me and I with them; I have spent time with young soldiers who have dealt with the horrors of war, I am learning so much history; I have cried, danced and sung at the Wailing Wall, I have felt peaceful, joyful and so full of love." All this from the young woman who left me a week ago excited about her trip because she heard the Israeli soldiers are hot and they've got great clubs to go to at night. We ended our call and I sat for an hour, alone, allowing that special feeling to flow through my body, cleanse me. What joy!


caccy46, author of Flowers Define Me, is 60 years old, a mother of two, and has been married for 32 years.