Time has pleats.
While years may stretch them out.
They enfold when old friends
meet after years,
touching as if only
hours have passed.
I watched your smile
twinkling on the seas
I heard your laughter
rustling in the trees
I heard your voice whisper
0n the evening breeze
I saw your image
dancing in the leaves
I felt you everywhere
gifting me with memories
comforting me with peace.
a stunned staring
with a grin that expands
from mouth to feet
’til even toes are smiling
as kindly sharing
from then to now
’til familiarity leads
transcending miles and
knowing paths will cross
Skies bluer than sapphires
Sun glowing, turned the world into High Definition.
Birds calling, trilling, chirping, clicking, singing
Swooping, sailing on a sky sea
Warm breeze a caress,
blowing sultry scents into nostrils.
Barbeque sauce tangoing on the tongue.
With friends, in fellowship,
we celebrate service above ourselves.
There is a lot to be thankful for in June.
June is Rotary Fellowships month. Fellowships are Rotarians who share a passion, like chess, travel, puzzles, etc.
Yesterday I was blessed to have a visit from dear friends of my teenage years. It has been over 20 years since I last saw them, because they now live in Ottawa, some 4000 km away. We keep in touch through letters (the paper kind!) and Facebook, so we have exchanged photos and life events, but we haven’t seen each other in lifetimes (those of 3 children between us, I think)
The door bell rang, they stepped inside, and it was as if our last visit was yesterday. It gives a glimpse into the concept of eternity. If our own experience is that time folds upon itself when old friends come together, a life time is measured in a blink.
I’m reminded of Joe Abernathy’s comments to Claire with respect to high school reunions in Diana Gabaldon’s Dragonfly in Amber. He says, “you see all these people you haven’t seen for twenty years, and there’s this split second when you meet somebody you used to know, when you think, ‘My God, he’s changed!,’ and then all of a sudden, he hasn’t—it’s just like the twenty years weren’t there. I mean”—he rubbed his head vigorously, struggling for meaning—“you see they’ve got some gray, and some lines, and maybe they aren’t just the same as they were, and you have to make yourself stand back a ways to see that they aren’t eighteen anymore.”
I sure wish Ottawa was a whole lot closer. The worst thing about seeing someone you haven’t seen in 20 years is how much you wish you could spend more time with them. Good-byes are extra sad.
Thank heaven for Facebook. 🙂
I have heard a lot of gleeful old ladies discussing the social aspects of funerals. Sometimes, it seems rather ghoulish, but it’s true, a good funeral is a wonderful opportunity to connect with faces you haven’t seen in years. If people are ‘friends of friends’ or family ‘out-laws’ they may have been part of your periphery for a period in your life, but as you move in different directions, you don’t hear of them any longer.
It was sad to bid farewell to a sweet girl who has been on the edge of life for 26 years. At her birth, the doctors didn’t expect Emily to live out the day, and most days throughout her life were tenuous. Emily was a model of being grateful for every day, for dressing to the nines, and appreciating the close up details of things.
Amid our sadness, it was lovely see see familiar faces from the past, and appreciate the time to reconnect with them. No one seems much changed by time, save a few pounds and some hair colour alterations. I love that.
There is humour in those meetings, as well. A man I hadn’t seen in decades commented tonight that when he would drive through my old neighbourhood that he would wonder what I was doing now. Ha. Now he has the link to my blog, all the mystery will be gone.
There are some things that we do because we want to, and just the doing of those things is a pleasure in itself. We don’t expect recognition, or seek it, and that is quite okay.
Sometimes we have to do things that we’d rather not do, and the only value in those activities is the recognition that it brings. When you don’t like shovelling manure, you want to get paid for having a ‘crappy’ job! I don’t mean those days when the scent of manure makes you euphorically pastoral. I mean the days when it’s a miserable drudge, and you don’t want to do it. You do what you have to do, and you gather your pay cheque, and use that money to buy something you need or you want. You sacrifice a little something for the filthy lucre.
Sometimes your sacrifice is your time. Sometimes your investment is emotional. Sometimes you go out of your way to help someone when you’d rather be doing your own thing. You may feel obligated to help out due to friendship or family commitments. You ‘lend’ a friend or family member $500 knowing full well that you’ll never see it again. You make a sacrifice on their behalf, and it’s fine. You do what you have to do. It’s not out of line to expect to hear a simple, “Thank you.” Not marching bands or ticker tape parades, just a simple, “I appreciate your effort.” It’s nice to have someone recognise that you have helped them out at some personal cost.
I’m staring at my 20 year old couches at the moment, swathed in their dog safe covers, and I’m feeling quite grumpy that I don’t have the replacement ones that I’d been visiting at ScanDesign for 4 years. I dreamed about them. They were $10,000. I visited them a lot, but they were well out of the budget, due to the expenses of the household. The couches have been discontinued, and so I’ll never be able to get them now. If I had not been making sacrifices on behalf of someone else, I could have had my couches. It makes me see sad to realise that I sacrificed my fantastic leather, fully reclining, gorgeous eKornes couches for someone who has turned out to be completely unworthy.
It makes me so upset that I have wasted my efforts for years being helpful and supportive to someone who plainly needed to learn about sacrifice and independence the hard way. Sometimes when we try to ease someone’s path, we deprive them of experience they need to appreciate the value of their own efforts, and to be appreciative of help when it comes. I regret this person’s ignorance and attitude, while I mourn the loss of opportunity that I could have given someone who would have appreciated it more (like my dogs or myself).
I confess to being more than a little concerned, because once this person was respectful, kind, considerate, and responsible. Things change apparently. I know better, now. I won’t be offering support any longer. I’ll cut my losses and I’ll invest where the return is better.
Illusions are powerful people. They have no flaws.
I love the movie Sabrina. It is one of my go-to movies when I’m sewing and want some noise in the basement. I love how Sabrina transforms herself through travel and new experience. I love how she breaks free of her obsession and finds true love that was under her nose the whole time.
The first time I heard this quote, it was a bit of a punch in the gut. It was extremely illuminating. The imaginary people we create may be based on real life people, but often our minds turn them into who we want them to be, and we don’t see what they are. We create imaginary friends. For looking back fondly, there is probably no real damage in that, but if they get in the way of real relationships for our future, it is. Keep your eyes open. If your other friends don’t see what you see, through your glowing eyes of love, perhaps it’s not really there?