Journal of Sacred Work

 "Isn't it remarkable how much more time you spent at work than at home?" my wife kind-voiced last week. "Time is less abundant now."

   She's right on both counts.

   While writing this to you, I noticed that word again, "abundance," on my legal pad. Such a lovely word.   

   Food, kindness, forgiveness, friends, laughter, love. A abundance of these delivers Joy. 

   Against aging's challenges one gift retired caregivers have in abundance is memories. They do not all have to be happy ones to be rich.

   If caregivers only remembered grateful patients and miraculous cures life would be a pretend operating room. When I see alums from any of the three hospitals I was privileged to lead, the best laughs come from events not funny at the time.

   "Remember Marge?" one retired colleague told me recently referencing a previous boss. "She always scared the hell out of me!" 

   "Me too," another chimed in. "Every time her number popped up on my pager I would say the same four-letter word."

   We laughed.

   They were scared then. Now, "Marge" is joke material. 

   The patient that threw the bedpan. The doctor that shouted then apologized. The patient that coded and recovered. The tearful son that thanked you for saving his mother's life. The boss that saw your gifts and promoted you.

   These memories populate your Book of Abundance; a hymnal with an affirming under-song. 

   Hymns are sacred. So is your caregiving career. The music of you easing other's suffering. 

   Abundant thanks to you for choosing to serve.

-Erie Chapman

Please support the Journal by tapping the newly refurbished "Donate" button at our website: https://www.eriechapmanfoundation.net. We will receive an instant message that you contributed. THANK you.