As If It Were My Birthday . . . | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    It is a quiet afternoon at the rabbit patch-an unfamiliar kind of quiet. There was no "Sunday Dinner" as daddy did not feel well this morning. Kyle and Christian are with friends. Cash and Christopher Robin are sleeping. The last of the cotton is being picked in a field, just "across the way". The drone of the combine acts like a lullaby as it drifts through the open window, by the "morning table".

    It seems, I am "left to my own devices". I am liberated from housekeeping duties, as I cleaned yesterday, well into the night. I did manage to find a task or two in the afternoon-and since there are no"left-overs" from dinner, I will cook a good supper. What a good time it would be to practice the cello, except I am only borrowing one now and I do not yet take it home.

    I listened to several enlightening lessons- all focused on proper living. The resounding message was to love yourself and others- and to be grateful. The business of loving yourself really , is to remind ourselves that we truly are "beautifully and wonderfully made". The business of loving others, to me, could be summed up by doing our best to "understand the heart " of others. Certainly, my account is a "watered down" version of this ancient lesson-and pales in comparison to the beautiful presentation by the ninety-three year old sage, I was listening to, but I was inspired all over again, to deepen my love for others.

    I called a dear friend about mid afternoon. Her name is Julie and I have known her since I was a young girl, but we happened to become neighbors, a score of years ago, and that is when we developed a friendship, that bound us mightily. I have laughed more with Julie than I have with most people. We do not have to "bar subjects", but are free to discuss anything, as we please. . . somehow we always end up talking about God. Julie is well studied and quite "sharp", so she provides interesting conversations, you don't soon forget.

    Julie has a fair amount of ailments, which all stemmed from high blood pressure. A stroke blinded her for a little while, but thankfully she recovered and regained her vision. Her kidneys, did not recover. She has been on dialysis a few years. This summer, Julie had to have both of her legs amputated. Julie is my age-fifty-eight.

    Do not think Julie is in "dire straights" . . .or feels pitiful for herself. You would be mistaken. . .for Julie has the heart of a warrior, with her battles-and an iron clad faith. Julie is thankful that the surgery relieved her of pain. She is grateful to be liberated from the pain medicine she had to rely on, at one time. Julie, unaware, inspired me, a second time this day. She had convinced me that living a life of gratitude was not only joyful-but peaceful and powerful too.

    By the time we hung up, I needed to turn a lamp on. I sat for a short while, thinking that the day had passed with such generosity- as if it were my birthday. I sat in the twilight, and I hoped and prayed to do better. I wished better-for the whole world . . . until, the first stars came out . . . and supper was ready . . .and the boys were on the way home.

    Dear Diary, I want to love more . . and there is so much to love. I must remember to be grateful too, for there is so much to be grateful for . . friends are surely one of them.