|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
Lovely, but it feels like you're saying goodbye! Say it ain't so!
I can't believe it's been five years! Wow! Have you even considered how many pages or words you've written in these past five years? It would be an interesting librariany project but one I wouldn't dare take on.
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Friday, February 01, 2008
It's been fun wandering through the archives this week. I hope you have enjoyed this trip down memory lane too. This will be the last archival post for a while, though, so I wanted it to be relevant, to have that feeling of conclusion, or at least, to seem as if I were looking back from some vantage point.
And so I offer you some thoughts.
Ahh well. There. You may think what you please. Read Asimov. Laugh at me. I will still go upon my way having personal relationships with the universe and laughing at myself as well! And of one thing I am abundantly sure. Nothing that we have loved ever completely leaves us. The act of love is so transforming that by loving we become a newer version of ourselves. We can not be the person we were before our encounter with the object of our love and that very growth, that expansion, reminds us always of the love we once held and the lover we once knew.
We spent an hour or so out in our little forested wonderland, traversing the paths, remembering those early days, recalling happy memories. At one point it suddenly hit me, that every yearning hunger I had in those early days has been fulfilled. Oh, mind you, now, I am sure there are going to be many longings and wantings and yearnings that I will have in the future. Man does not stop wanting just because his wish is granted. But I could honestly say that those things I ached for the most, throughout my girlhood and adolescence and even young womanhood, were mine now. Love. Good work. A place to come from. A place to go back to. Joy.
On the Passage of Time:
BD asked for my observations on the long sweet drive home, (for he always takes the back roads). Other than personal comments on individuals, the biggest thing I noticed was that we are becoming the older generation. That layer of people between youth and death. One woman who's worn baby doll dresses all the years I've known her is finally putting aside peter pan collars and puffed sleeves. All the men are either bald or gray. Funny, their voices are still the same, so when you hear someone you haven't seen in a while speaking behind you, you get a shock when you turn around and see his dad - only it's not his dad - he's just gotten old.
So. My life has been a long passage in the same place. I've watched us all, young hopefuls with bright eyes, now we are the stately matrons and patriarchs (or the burdensome parents or even the SOB's who run things ... into the ground). One day we'll be the frail old sticks, balancing precariously at the edge of life. And then we will be the subjects of funny stories told in parish halls and Sunday school rooms. A few of us will have left public legacies, all of us will have bequeathed personal ones.
It is all a big circle - a sweeping curve from dawn to dusk, like the sun's chariot race across the sky.
And a few final visuals:
The Queen's Haircut
Maryland Sheep & Wool Hauls