Bikur Cholim After Surgery

Today there’s someone praying the afternoon or evening prayer (I think it’s after sunset now) in the Chapel. So even though the lights are brighter than when I was here last week, I won’t take a picture to show you what the “Jewish” mural looks like.

It was about 3 hours waiting during surgery. Which went well. I got to hear a lot of wonderful family stories. But there’s a lot of energy racing about inside of me, and I don’t want to drive home just yet. I need to empty it. It doesn’t feel today so much like “grounding” energy as it is shooting rays of light from my upturned palms toward the heavens. That’s the metaphor that works right now. I can feel the energy dissipating, slowly. (Or rather, I felt that, and I’m writing about it just after. But these are the words I was thinking, when I was thinking at all, with the energy radiating out from my palms.)

There is a soft triangular knitted shawl lying near the waterfall today. Someone has written the following and carefully stitched it onto the shawl:

Dear Lord, give this shawl the ability to bring comfort to the person wearing it. May they know that you are with them, that they are not alone and that your loving arms are around them. Amen.

Please leave shawl in Chapel

I put it on. It is a comfort. Perhaps because as a Jew I am accustomed to being wrapped in a tallit. Perhaps for some other reason. This is the kind of thing that I often don’t try, but I wanted to try it. It struck me as a lovely thing, that someone made this and left it here for others. It seems gentle and generous. And anonymous and private, in a way that the ledger book for writing prayers in doesn’t seem to me.

For whatever reason, this strikes me as a ritual that is good and lovely — and it works for me.