Dear friends, I had started to wonder if autumn temperatures would arrive, but the rain has come and the air is cooler and I feel lighter. I trust you are well and enjoying these last few days before the holidays rush in. My plan is to not get caught up in the frenzy, but to live gently and quietly during the coming weeks.
The last few months have been heavy in many ways, living with pieces of my heart bruised, yet, having said that, my days are filled with a deep joy, sharing life with my darling granddaughter, watching her discover the world.
Perhaps it was the way she reached up and touched my face, or the way the autumn sun slanted across the lawn, but as I stood looking out the front door with her on a recent morning, it felt as if everything—for one split-second—stopped moving, as if time stood still, as if in that moment, there were only the two of us in the whole world. I pressed my cheek against hers and felt my heart swell, filled up with so many emotions.
Maybe you can understand when I say I’m trying not to hold her too tight, not to love her too much. But is that even possible? Can the heart choose the depth of its feelings? Life is short. Should we hold anything back, despite the risks?
On a lighter note, last week, after way too many years of not seeing each other, twin sister and I enjoyed the pleasure of the company of a childhood and lifelong friend. From the first group hug, the long years of separation melted away. Dinner and conversation lasted three+ hours, as we had lots of catching up to do. There were tears, but much more laughter. Old letters were read and photos passed around. As we parted ways, we remarked on the fact that we’ve known each other for more than a half-century, and neither time nor space can erase the history our families share, or break the ties that bind us together. It was Longfellow who wrote: "Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend."
Do you have four seconds? That's the totality of this video clip of cupcake enjoying herself in Memaw and Papaw's bed. I'm not sure why it makes me laugh every time I watch it, but it does. She's plumb out of breath, in four seconds flat. If only time could slow down, if these sweet sounds would only last, but you know the drill: "Father Time waits for no one."
Well, sweet friends, it's been a rambling road, this post, but some days are like that. Until next time, as always, thanks for keeping me company here. It means so very much.