I'm beginning this post at the cafe' near my friend's home, but will soon leave for another visit with the Dick and Peggy Patterson. We enjoyed their company yesterday, I realized that Dick and I still have a lot of catching up to do. I'll stay here tomorrow, and then on Friday drive over to Portland, where Mary has asked me to stay at their home.
This "voyage of self-discovery" has been overall a good experience. Just today I commented that I feel as though the balance between feeling alone, mournful, melancholy and mopey is tipping in favor of hopefulness, optimism, planning and strength. I think part of it has to do with meeting with these old friends and recognizing that they and I have grown old. And, I am reminded of the good life Gwen and I had with them when we were young. But, that was then, and this is now, and it needs to be accepted that there are still things I have to do: four children to love, grandchildren to be the best kind of grandpa I know how to be for, and all my other friends and relatives to remain in contact with and be thankful for.
This is an excerpt from a poem read today. It's entitled SUMMER'S END, and was written by John Engel:
Precisely to the degree that you have loved something:
a house, a woman, a bird, this tree, anything at all,
you are punished by time.
More on this later, it's time to leave for the Pattersons.
It was great afternoon, the Pattersons daughter and her two daughters were there; we had a great meal and good conversation, now it's back to Tacoma.
I so wish you were here with me, Dear; the fond memories remain.
This "voyage of self-discovery" has been overall a good experience. Just today I commented that I feel as though the balance between feeling alone, mournful, melancholy and mopey is tipping in favor of hopefulness, optimism, planning and strength. I think part of it has to do with meeting with these old friends and recognizing that they and I have grown old. And, I am reminded of the good life Gwen and I had with them when we were young. But, that was then, and this is now, and it needs to be accepted that there are still things I have to do: four children to love, grandchildren to be the best kind of grandpa I know how to be for, and all my other friends and relatives to remain in contact with and be thankful for.
This is an excerpt from a poem read today. It's entitled SUMMER'S END, and was written by John Engel:
Precisely to the degree that you have loved something:
a house, a woman, a bird, this tree, anything at all,
you are punished by time.
More on this later, it's time to leave for the Pattersons.
It was great afternoon, the Pattersons daughter and her two daughters were there; we had a great meal and good conversation, now it's back to Tacoma.
I so wish you were here with me, Dear; the fond memories remain.
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