I Say A Little Prayer

Yesterday I received a call from my friend, Greg, who books me for catering gigs from time to time.  Apparently someone he booked for last night backed out, so, he called and asked me to fill in for the cat.  Since I rarely have gigs on the books, I was available.  En route to the gig, he told me that the chef we were to be working for had to be rushed into surgery unexpectedly.  Luckily, her hubby, also a chef, was able to sub for her.  But this post isn't about the gig.  And it isn't about the chef's hubby.  It's about the chef.

Cari (the chef) has been in and out of the hospital a few times since I've known her.  But only yesterday did I feel a sense of fear for her safety.  Actually...for her life.  While working, one of my co-workers told me that Cari's young son fears his mom will die.  He begged her to promise him that she'd never go back to the hospital.  At the time, I believe she made that promise.  But, of course, she knew full well she could never keep it if her body needed help.

When I look back over my blog posts and in my written journals, I clearly see that I talk about bettering my circumstances and overall person quite a bit.  To some, I'm sure that's just CAM complaining about his life.  But, to me (the person who means the MOST to me anyway), it's simply what it is:  me voicing out loud what I want to change in my life.  I accept that repetition is how people learn.  How they grow.  So, if repeating the change(s) I want in my life a million times per day is what it takes for me to actually make the change(s), so be it.  Cari, on the other hand, probably has no say in whether or not she can make the physical change to well-being.  Her situation undoubtedly is what it is.  

I thank God I have always shown her kindness.  'Cause, if she feels like sh*t now for fibbing to her son, or because she fears leaving him and others she loves, I hope my kindness provides even a moment of happiness for her.  I hope she knows that she's loved.  And needed.  And appreciated.  And wanted.

I say a little prayer for her.  Forever and ever.