Or so said Yogi Berra. 

 

This fall I have been trying to lessen the workload of my own right arm, or at least wrist, and have begun to relegate some of it to my left. My father's nickname was Lefty, so perhaps there is genetic material to play with. It turns out that I can shift the heavy frying pan to my other hand, and heft the guitar case with it as well with no dire results. This is not to diminish my appreciation of all that limb has done these sixty plus years, but rather to offer deserved respite. 

 

The pain is subsiding. 

 

A woman was describing how their couplehood has made swivels over the years. First her husband handled finances, then she took a turn. It made sense as the demands of parenting or jobs ebbed and flowed. At times the transition was choppy, but they figured it out. 

 

Another friend is taking more of the responsibility her husband carried for the bulk of their marriage, as his health declines. His ability to make some of the decisions that impact their children has faltered. Hence the need to step into what was once his territory. 

 

There is a story in the book of Genesis that speaks of hands. Israel is an old man, ready to bless his grandsons before he dies. Joseph brings his sons to their grandfather, the elder one on the patriarch's right, and the younger on the left. Of course the firstborn son expected the greater blessing. Israel's sight had faded, and yet he mindfully crossed his arms, placing his right hand on the younger, and his left on the older. Joseph tried to correct the obvious mistake. 

 

 “I know, my son, I know. He also shall become a people, and he also shall be great; but truly his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his descendants shall become a multitude of nations.”

 

Sometimes the priorities we once ranked at the top lose their status. The drive to acquire material wealth dominates our energy early in life, then as we age its grip lessens. When my mother was near the end, her belongings and bank account mattered less to her than having me sit beside her.  Losses through floods, and physical decline had no more power to hurt her. 

 

Some pain does subside. 

 

 

 

 

Love,