Pondering God in the Target Parking Lot

We went to Target this afternoon and took our time strolling through the aisles filled with Christmas decorations. We talked about our traditions and our favorite parts of the holiday season. She wondered aloud if there would be a new Peep flavor this season and I compared gingerbread house kits and thought back to all the gingerbread houses we've made. As we got into the car to leave, I mentioned that Chanukah starts tonight and said, "I know." She talked about two of her classmates that celebrate Chanukah and then said, "If we're not Christians, why do we celebrate Christmas?" A very good question.

I explained that both Luisa and were raised as Christians so we grew up with the Christian traditions and still celebrate them because they are part of our culture and connection to the past. Then, she asked me if I believe in God. We've had this conversation before and I am no closer to a clear answer than when she last asked me so I told her I don't know.

Zeca: What do Christians believe?

Me: Well, some conservative Christians believe that God made the Earth and people and all living things.

Zeca: I thought the Big Bang made the Earth.

Me: Well, I may not be sure about God but I do believe in Science.

Zeca: Why does everyone believe that God is a man? God could be a woman.

Me: Why do you think?

Zeca: Because, a long time ago, people thought boys were stronger and could do everything better than girls so they thought God was a man.

Me: I think that's a good theory. If there is a God, I doubt it is a man or a woman. I imagine it would be some kind of force of energy.

Zeca: Yeah. I could see that.

And just like that, the moment was over and talk turned to how delicious her mocha was. I wish I had answers for her but, more often than not, I only have questions. Maybe we'll figure it out together.

Patterns

There are patterns everywhere. They exist in relationships when the same arguments repeat, when differences emerge time and again, when we react to something in the way we have in the past even though we vowed to behave differently.

We have our individual patterns as well. We take the same routes to our favorite places. We wear a favorite shirt or pair of shoes when we need an extra boost, an extra spark of positive energy. We take our coffee or tea a certain way, maybe even in the same mug day after day.

Patterns and routines can provide certainty when there isn't any, comfort when we need it.

This past week, I was overwhelmed and tired and anxious. My worries became more serious, my fears greater, my burden bigger.

And I behaved in a way that is familiar. I found a song that resonated with my emotional state and I listened to it on repeat.

There are patterns that serve us and there are some that do not. This is one of mine that reinforces my angst but I also wonder if it helps in some way, if I need to just dwell for a bit and that doing so, for me, requires a perfect soundtrack because I do eventually break free and then set that song aside for awhile, as if it has done its work. Each time, however, I wonder why I do this. When the sky is gray and cloudy and my mind matches, why do I add the equivalent in music.

My only explanation is the pattern and, maybe, a lack of common sense.

***

The following was my song for the week but I have no idea what is happening in this video. 

Imperfect Pictures

Before the wedding, we went through our pictures to find a few of us from each season of our lives together. I came across this one and keep coming back to it. It's not a great picture - Luisa's cheek is squished and I'm not even looking at the camera. But I think I keep coming back to it because I remember that evening so well.

It was the end of the summer of 2008 and it was our last night in Portugal. We were just outside Lisbon at this little restaurant at a marina with our friends, Susan and Raquel, and our kids, Luca, Zeca and Miguel.

I don't remember what we ate but I remember we had a lot of good Portuguese wine and the kids had fondue. I remember laughing as the kids devoured the chocolate fondue, remember their big, messy, chocolate smiles. Then, they went off to play and we watched as they ran around in circles in the evening sun with the ocean as their backdrop.

I remember feeling so good which seemed almost impossible since my mother had died the month before that.

I had my friends and my family, good food and good wine, warmth and water. It felt easy and light.

It was one of those times when everything unfolds just as it should and gives you what you need, though you would never have been able to say, "Yes, this."

And I remember posing for pictures with Luisa while our friend, Raquel snapped away. I remember feeling grateful for Luisa's arms around me, for the crisp smell of her t-shirt, the familiar scent of her hair gel. I  felt in love with her in a way that was old and comforting but also renewed.

We stayed until the sun set and it grew dark and then the seven of us made our way back to the apartment where we were staying and the next day we returned to the U.S.

Tonight, Luisa is in Trinidad and I am here but looking at this picture shrinks that distance somewhat. It's amazing what good memories can do.