This beautiful image is by Mara Friedman, one of my favorite artists and creator of New Moon Visions.

I’ve been reflecting on the many kindnesses I’ve received and witnessed over the last few weeks.  I’ve been deeply touched by the caring my Mom received during her latest surgery and hospitalization.  These memories take the form of a mandala – an archetypal circle – that can represent the entire universe or the self and inner harmony.

Mom is at the center of circles of concern made up of those people who know and care for her directly expanding out to those people who may only know of my Mom through others and support her indirectly.  The circles and my sense of gratitude have grown with every passing day.

I will never forget when Dr. Wallace, Mom’s surgeon, took her hand and kissed her on the cheek as she lay in her hospital bed.  I remember her ICU nurse, Ashley, giving her reassurance and encouragement for sitting upright and trying to walk a few steps.  All of Mom’s caregivers were sensitive to her pain and helped to relieve it in any way they could.  This is no small thing.  They had to constantly monitor her body’s life signs and calibrate the level of medicine she could safely receive at such a frail and vulnerable stage of healing.  I remember the harrowing day she was released from the hospital only to rush to Dr. Spitz’ office to fix the placement of a catheter to relieve her pain.  He kindly agreed to stay after hours to help Mom.

I think of our family, especially my sister, Anne-Marie, the mother of four year old triplets who accompanied Mom to her many medical appointments over the past months, delivered her groceries, cleaned her house, was her most constant companion and witness to her pain.  Today my sister Jeni arrived from D.C. to accompany Mom to her next round of chemotherapy.  I was there the day Mom’s sister, Theresa, visited after having lost her husband only a week before to cancer.  Mom received many cards, calls and messages wishing her well.

I am so grateful for the support I received that enabled me to be with Mom. I think nearly everyone knew how scared I was.  We were told Mom’s situation was very bad, the proposed surgery very serious.  My beloved partner Tim listened to my fears and sadness, together we rode many waves of ups and downs.  Friends expressed their love and concern.  Colleagues covered my classes.  Clients graciously agreed to reschedule their appointments.  Everyone offered themselves in kindness.

I am grateful to Mom.  She let me in – close, close to her experience and feeling.  We shared spontaneous moments that only arise when your stuck  – stuck with your situation – stuck with each other (in a good and hard ways).   When I’m stuck I often take refuge in the dharma – the Buddhist teachings that seem to keep me on course and which help me find acceptance.  I read, Thanissaro Bhikkhu’s essay called The Lessons of Gratitude.  He says that:      ” . . . kindness and gratitude are virtues you can cultivate, but they have to be cultivated together.  Each needs the other to be genuine.”   He outlines “ the three things most likely to make gratitude heartfelt:

1) You’ve actually benefitted from another person’s actions. 2) You trust the motives behind those actions. 3) You sense that the other person had to go out of his or her way to provide that benefit.

Points one and two are lessons that gratitude teaches kindness:  If you want to be genuinely kind, you have to be of actual benefit . . .and you have to provide that benefit in a way that shows respect and empathy for the other person’s needs. . . Points two and three are lessons that kindness teaches to gratitude. Only if you’ve been kind to another person will you accept the idea that others can be kind to you. At the same time, if you’ve been kind to another person, you know the effort involved. Kind impulses often have to do battle with unkind impulses in the heart, so it’s not always easy to be helpful.”

I had battles in my heart.  I struggled with almost frantic urgency at times trying to help relieve Mom’s pain.  Anyone who’s experienced illness or injury knows to struggle against your condition is like a salmon hurling itself upstream.  At other times I lost myself in thoughts about how I could be helpful only to experience frustration when my plans failed.

Gratitude teaches kindness. Kindness teaches gratitude.  I am grateful to Mom for the magical moments we shared during her convalescence at home.  I think we were learning and teaching one another in kindness and gratitude.  She could accept what I could give.  I could accept what she could give.  This is no small thing.  It was a joy to observe her actually enjoy food – something we rarely shared – ever.  I could listen to her concerns about caring for her children and grandchildren’s future.  She could listen to me reminisce about our family times.   Together we created the space and time to truly be with each other without distraction.

I think these precious moments arise from our pain and vulnerability.  It can open us to give and receive.  Mom was the oldest girl of eight children, the mother of five and now the grandmother of triplet grandchildren and, of course, my son Marshall.  I can remember the day we brought him home from the hospital and the day she helped me give him his first bath.  I can’t imagine the number of diapers she’s changed, bodies she’s bathed, fed and band-aided.  I can’t recall the countless times she cared for me in this way – when I was most vulnerable.

Thanissaro Bhikkhu describes the “debt” of gratitude that we owe to certain benefactors, especially our parents and teachers.  He says:  ” . . . you repay your parents’ goodness many times over by allowing its influence to spread beyond the small circle of the family into the world at large. In so doing, you enlarge the circle of their goodness as well.”

I trust my place in this mandala of kindness and gratitude.  I marvel how it grows larger and more inclusive every day.