Wise Woman

Not Wise Women, Wise Woman, and it ain’t me.

True story-

Back about a hundred… no I said true story, back about 20 years ago I knew a wise woman. Her name is Judy and she was lovely. Lovely in many ways; she taught me important life lessons about how to act like a woman of integrity and intelligence and kindness, and she deserves a chapter all to herself.

Judy became sick, and only through guidance from other folks was I able to even show up for part of her ordeal. My standard act was to run when pain was within 100 miles of my heart, it never occurred to me that I should’ve put her  above me. Selfish, silly Dee.

It was at a spiritual retreat that we attended when Judy left us to go free…

I fell on my knees and screamed to an unknown God I that hated, quite inconsolable. Exactly what the fuck did He think He was doing? If He loved me at all, how could He allow this to be? Judy was gone. She left me.

Nothing, not a thing, makes me more unwilling to love humans than their impending departures. Too much scar tissue where my heart is supposed to be, I guess. I’m kinda like the Grinch without a Whoville.

Many things still remind me of her. She really, really, really, wanted for me to go to college, but even now, I’m too afraid. She would tell me how much I would love it, and I believed her. She always left her truck door unlocked, if someone wanted something bad enough to break in, she said, then they should have it. She had little sparkles in her blue eyes and I valued every word she spoke to me. I miss her.

So let’s find our way back to present day. The retreat is still an annual event that I’ve not given two shits about since Judy died there. As if I’d ever go back to THAT place. Yeah right. God can piss off. (I have struggled my whole life with God-stuff, so if you’re offended by my language I do apologize, but really, I’ve said worse). Life is about what we do with the dash, right? Like it’ll go: Deedlebug Fortin 1966-????, and life is in the middle of the “born on” and “expiration” dates. This is a fact. Why then, don’t I ever get it right? Why do I need to be 50 years old and a shit-ton of time elapsed before I recognize my self-centeredness? Sometimes, like now, I picture a God in full white beard & robe, poking His head through the clouds and shouting “DUH!” at me. If my God doesn’t have a sense of humour, he’s not allowed over. Fact.

The other day, my conversation with a current mentor/wise woman went something like this;

Me: So is that the same Marywood retreat from 100 years ago?

She: Yeah, I think so.

Me: Well, I’d never go back THERE. My friend died there. Can you believe God had the audacity to take her away from me at a friggin’ spiritual retreat??!!!

A pause as I wait for her to concur…

She: Hmm. Did you ever think that maybe God chose to take Judy then and there because she was surrounded by women who loved her and in such a peaceful setting?

Mic drop.

I’ll leave it right there for you to figure out how puny I felt for never seeing it that way, the right way of course!

I signed up to go back to that retreat at the end of this month. I’m going by myself, without agenda other than to hit my knees and thank a God I don’t even know for the Wise Women, past & present, who continue to tolerate my complete and total foolishness.