Spirit is a nebulous and visceral thing.

My mother is now home.  In less than two weeks she has gone from the ICU to a regular hospital room to a transitional care facility to home.

Today, one day after returning home, she motored herself up to her church for her regular volunteering gig.  It was Thursday.  That’s what she does.  Of course.

I find myself celebrating the grit of the woman.  She is tiny of stature and humongous of will.

There are still diagnostic questions to be answered.  She is aware of that.  And, she will drive the discovery when she feels it is time.

In the meantime, we who claim her as mom and love are taking deep and grateful breaths.  Mom is out in the world.  We each encounter our days with a deeper sense of ground.

And this daughter is thinking plenty about how it is such strength got planted deep into the soul of Barbara Jane Fawcett Macaulay Forrest.

I thank God for that strength and for her ability to wield it.

All is right in the world.

My mom is in it.