Except for the occasional weekend or holiday dinner-out/coffee or an overnight stay at Canyon Woods in Tagaytay with my family, I couldn't recall a time when I had an honest-to-goodness vacation, when I wasn't on the computer catching up on self-imposed deadlines or all over the house rustling up self-inflicted chores.
Well, for the first time in years, I had a two-week vacation. It was unplanned, but it came at a perfect time.
As I have experienced again and again, that's how grace works—it comes even when you least expect it and when you need it most.
My best cousin, Miss B, had to come home to bury her mom, my aunt. It was a rushed and heart-breaking affair, something we thought we were ready for, but when it suddenly came, we realized we were not ready at all. It's like the rug was suddenly pulled from under our feet, only worse. For nothing can prepare you for grief.
But grace arrives and bestows upon you a fresh perspective on mourning, giving you strength, guiding you to move on, and gifting you with a much-needed vacation.
And so after the funeral I dropped everything, and Miss B and I claimed two weeks for our own. Within this time, we took in everything which came to me sparingly before—hours-long chats, giggles, reminiscences and reflections; visits with kith and kin; spa; snacks; naps; beauty parlor; the city of pines; all the shopping meccas of my dream; time to work on post-life bureaucratic documents, struggle with legal gobbledygook, run errands; and tie loose ends.
I wish this had come under happier circumstances, but looking back on the two weeks I call my real vacation, it had to be at the exact time that it did.
The Giver of grace saw to that, as He sees to everything else.
Miss B and I are now back to our own little corners, at both ends of the Atlantic, but I—for as long as I live—will remember with gratitude that once-in-a-lifetime vacation that diminished our (especially, most especially, Ms. B's) grief, and made me embrace the splendor of the gift of life.
O nagsam-it a talna . . .(Oh, sweet peace . . .)
4 comments:
...ayat Dios a namarsua.
The giver of grace gave me you, cuz, and Aie, and Tony, and JC, and Matt, and Liege, and Teo, who all made sure that I was never alone, wallowing in grief and shouldas, couldas, wouldas, -- even when keeping me company meant suffering the sprays of a faulty airconditioner or constantly eating soft food at Chowking. Nabsug ti pusoc, nalaganan ti barukongco. Dios ti agngina!
Dios ti agngina, too, cuz! The pleasure was ours. I'll take air conditioning warsi and Chowking again, anytime, just come back when you are able.
At a time when your best cousin needed you, God gave you the grace to even enjoy a good vacation.
We have a super generous God.
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