For the first time ever I served the priest coffee and cookies after he had finished blessing the house. Usually Hubby has had to do it for some reason or other, but this time, today, it was if I had stepped into an ages old role and it was a place of honor and respect. It was there in Hubby's eyes, and there was love and happiness in Father's as he accepted the coffee and talked with us a little before heading out to bless another parish member's house. (During the month of January Father travels a great deal to do house blessings, resting only on Sundays after service, and sometimes he doesn't get to rest even then.)
It was odd sitting in my chair and serving coffee to Father and Hubby, as well as cookies. I was experiencing everything and observing it as well. Usually when this dual perception has occurred it has been something bad. Not this time.
I feel as if some new mantle has settled about my shoulders. It is something of great beauty, sometimes weighty, and not always soft, yet it is a fabric of great strength. My one hope about it is that I wear it well in the coming hours, days, weeks, months, and years ahead.