Excerpt from my latest... A Gift of Healing, from Nancy J. July 5th, 2013 @ 4:34 am Little did they know that what they do actually made me stronger. In a constitutional kind of way. Physically, that is. Oh, what they did most definitely slowed me down. Which coincidentally, was exactly what I needed. You see, I was on a fast track. The type that, in most cases, end in insanity or death. And here I am again, experiencing what I affectionately call a Sargeant Pepperoni (when you read Book 1 you will understand). I am just beginning to see these Sgt. Pepperoni's as yet another lesson. Another lesson in the truth. And with that I am seeing how Shakespeare was right... all the world is a stage. For the One. The One who has all power. And what I am seeing is that this stage, this worldly stage (actually Universal although we'll keep it close to home for now) is also a classroom. Everywhere. One need not go to court for the truth. All one need do is open eyes and look. Open ears and listen. Open heart and feel. Open mind and grow. Ah yes, this is exactly what I have been doing. I have been growing and for this I am grateful. What beauty I behold. Behold the Beauty. The Truth. The Life. The Love. The Time. Oh, to begin to grasp the significance of time. Of loving every one. Of appreciating each and every time we get to spend. Here. Now. In this body. In this form. This vehicle. This time travelling machine. Yes, this is part of what I learned 6 months ago while I watched my Mother's body come to a halt. A stopping point. It was the most graceful act I have ever witnessed. Oh how grateful I am to have been given the gift of presence. To be present for my Mother @ the end of her time in this life was a great gift to me. Thank you for all eternity. For all of time, I will be grateful for this gift. I will never forget the day. (Please forgive me if I have already written about this. I do not recall. So if I did, please bare with me. It’s like one of those stories that gets told time and time again by some family member. I hope this one is like those that never get old. Like the scene in The Shawshank Redemption after Andy escaped the prison and all of his friends would tell Andy tales over and over to each other to remember and to laugh and to appreciate what they had experienced. Together. So this too is what I now do. I revisit the day my Mom decided she was done.) I believe it was a Tuesday. The hospice team in Citrus County Florida came to the house to assess Mother’s situation and to offer assistance. Mother was sitting in her living room quietly while there were about a half a dozen people buzzing around. Asking questions. Filling out paperwork. Analyzing prescriptions. And making arrangements. At some point, I approached Mother to see if she was ready to get dressed so we could go for her treatment. She said she didn’t want to go. So my Dad came over and we were trying to convince her to want to go for treatment. The treatments were to ease her pain. To make the remaining months more bearable. The lead Hospice nurse overheard our conversation. She pulled up a stool in front of my Mother to talk with her about the treatments and how she was feeling. It was at this point when we were all standing around my Mom and she looked up directly at my Dad and she said, “Ernie, I’m done.” Wow, talk about a dose of reality. And as I sit here in a cave of my own that I share with my cat, Angel, and the remainder of my worldly belongings, I am so grateful. Because as I ink the words describing the beginning of these finals days with my Mom here, I am again alive. I feel the same aliveness I used to feel as a teenager in our family home. And with that I am grateful. Another gift from my wonder filled Mother. As my body continued to fight the battle overcoming the poison delivered some three years prior, my Mother gave me an inoculation of exactly what I needed. A great big dose of Unconditional Love. Thank you, Mom. That day was magical in oh so many ways! After Mom proclaimed her ‘doneness’, and after the hospice team left assuring us that the necessary equipment would arrive tomorrow along with a nurse to check in, my Dad went to the store. There we were, Mother and me. She sat in her chair in the middle of the living room. I put on an album. Michael Rabin, a violinist my parents loved. A protégé who died young. His music was beautiful. As Rabin’s art filled the airwaves, my Mother and me (intentional grammatical error) sat in the living room taking in life all around. Oh what a gift she gave that day. That day she reminded me just how simple life can be. When we let it. Be. We let it be that day. We let it be simple. We let it be beautiful. We let it be just about being. Together, that is. Together alone we sat. Together alone we breathed. Together alone we watched as the squirrels and birds played and the cars drove by. Together alone my greatest teacher reminded me just how simply beautiful life can be. Thank you, Mom. Thank you for the lesson. Thank you for the healing. And thank you for continuing to guide me and my ways for the remainder of my days… until… I too am done. For now, I continue. I continue practicing. Practicing loving every one. Every person. Every place. Every thing. Every time, that is. That is Love. Time. How I spend my time is how I Love. This I now know. Again. And here we are, like on a merry-go-round. Back to the beginning, Book 1. The beginning of these books of truth. The beginning of this God-Sparked Collection. Book 1 being ‘Facing the Fear’. And the lesson from book one being this, Love = Time. And what is it we fear? What is it man fears? Man fears the unknown. Time. Which is Love. Therefore, after all these years… after all these truths… after all these hundreds of thousands of words I have finally discovered that of which I am truly afraid. I am afraid of Love. Being in Love. Being in Time. And with the example of my Mother’s graceful departure, I am inspired to be afraid no more. I am inspired to be in Love. I am inspired to be in Time. To be in this world, not (afraid) of it. This world of Love & Time, for that is all there is. Be in else and I have nothing. Thank you, Mom. Again and again and again. You have always been my Special Friend. And oh how I look forward to the day when there are no more days for me too. When you and I get to be together, just in another place and time. I love you Mother. For you always took the time. For Love. Always. You were a great teacher (example).  That day in my Mom’s living room lasted longer than any day. Mom stayed up all day. Literally. Not once did she lay down to take a nap. We talked. We shared. I ate. She nibbled. We sat up late into the evening at the dining table and played. We played Yatzee. Then, my oldest brother, Steve and I played chess while Mom watched… and distributed peanut M&Ms one at a time to us while we played. Dad watched from the T.V. room. Oh what a wonder filled night that was. So simple. So loving. So connected. Around 11 o’clock, Mom finally decided to go to bed. And it was at this point the stage was set for me to be witness to one of the greatest scenes of (my) life. Once Mom and me () got her changed into fresh pajamas, she sat on the edge of her bed and called out for her Ernie. He came in and said, “Hi Angel.” That is what he has called her for years. As long as I can remember. For I remember as a young girl watching TV @ night with my brother, Marty, and my little sister, Michele, & my Dad. We all waited for Mom to come home from work. And without fail, when the front door started to open shortly after 11, Mom would come through, Dad would get up and greet her with a kiss and his usual, “Hello Angel.” It was not until after I ventured out into the world and saw for myself what a gift I was witnessing every night my Mom & Dad would come together. (I just didn’t know it.) Through sickness and in health. Through better and worse. My Mom and Dad loved each other. For on that last night of my Mom being not quite done, she sat there on the edge of her bed and her Ernie came and sat next to her. I stood at the doorway thinking I should leave them alone although my heart filled with so much joy I could not tear myself away. I stood there and watched. I watched my Mother turn into a young innocent little girl and I watched my Dad turn into a young beautiful man full of hope and love for the girl sitting next to him. I saw my Mom and Dad as they were before. Before marriage. Before me. Before having 8 children and adopting another. Before losing one child to cerebral palsy. Before a lifetime of joys & heartaches together. Yes, Mom and Dad stuck it out together no matter what. No matter what they kept the faith. If not in anything else, they obviously kept the faith in themselves and in each other because they stayed together no matter what. And for what is it I had been seeking my whole life? For what is it I had been searching? For evidence of True Love. And how ironic it is that I find that for which I’d been seeking in the place from where I come. What a gift I was being given during a time when one would normally be focused/thinking of pain and loss, I found the greatest gift ever. I found True Love. In the place where I began. Literally. Physically. Spiritually. At home with my Mom & Dad. At the beginning of the Ernie and Nancy Czupka family. Yes, I stood in that doorway and watched. I savored every moment for I knew I was witnessing a miracle. A miracle healing. For them and for me. The beginning. The end. Just how does one distinguish between the two when there appears to be no variance. I stood there as a daughter to my parents and watched. I watched an exchange of Love that stood the tests of Time. Thank you Mom. Thank you Dad. For being willing to keep the faith no matter what. And yet another lesson for me. The daughter you continue to teach. For I too am willing. Willing to learn. Willing learn to keep the faith no matter what. Thank you every one. Thank you every thing. For being. Perfect. Always. Love. 7:18 am Thank you for the Separation. For without it, I would not know Togetherness. Imagine OneLove. Always.