Starting tight, inter-woven-young and new with few experiences beyond those of small town life. With time new threads, color, textures, spreading out–the weave looser, stretching, growing; the fabric changing size and shape. There to wrap in if it’s cold. Looser with big, loopy openings if space is needed. But there, always there. Whether in long loose, thin tendrils or tight knots for hanging on-Experiences and life demands determine the shape, the weight, the size, the colors of the fabric that is always there. “The Fabric of Us.”
Whether burlap or brocade-Synthetic or silk, vinyl or velvet, used and abused–stretched to its limit-Comfy and crushed-every now and then-“The Fabric of Us”-gets a new thread. Renewing it’s strength, it’s glow to shine with or without sun.
Fifty years of being there. Not many can boast that. Let’s add a new color, a new thread to-“The Fabric of Us.”
The floodgates open again. Life on Life’s terms-not always in one straight line. When you find the right course through destiny and share a world with your grandchildren that they will always remember-that is as close to wonderful as it gets. You have served your family well. A run on sentence-a run on life. Taking the figurative and literal ball and running with it. Loved, revered- as the feelings and devotion come with clarity and selfless giving. Grandpa Ira rocks grandparenthood. His lap is never empty, their hearts are always full. I wish this on everyone.
So many of the old adages are now living at my front door. Cliches that I never got, couldnt internalize or just wasnt ready for have now come into play with regularity. Fortuitously, they serve as the bettor at our Mah-jongg table. More forgiving and grateful, less verbalizing differences seems to be our new posture. We sit down and the magic occurs. First game out we adjust our seat, call on our strategy and throw “the dice.” We leave so much more to chance. No more rebuffing what is, just fact and acceptance feel like the right path to take. We flinch at the first interference in our game of Life–and in turn almost welcome it. A phone call from someone’s kid sharing the joy over their daughter’s ballet recital is typical. An interruption because the deocrator went to the wrong place, perhaps. The bell ringing when the handyman comes to prepare the terrace for planting. We pool our woes and share our joys. Are we lucky or have we turned happenstance into “sheer” delight?
My parents had an activity with their weekly group of couples called “Coffee and…” I am now getting that the “and” was so much more than cheese danish or chocolate babka.
I love our “and.” When I was younger and had a piece of chicken. I would eat the wings last. I savored the best for then. I now sit down to our chicken lunch and go for the wings first. I decided it’s because I cant wait to get back to what we came for. I know that the real reason I enjoy this activity is because it recapitulates my parents activity of continuity. Well here’s to so many more days of Mah Jongg “And.”
Connected by threads of laughter, endured thru distance and shredded by hardships.We are still together as our paths have divided, multiplied and been challenged. As a precious jewel-worn on tender occasions, displayed in a special place; polished and refurbished as needed. Forgiving, generous and embraced, as its value cannot be overestimated. A responsiblity unlike any other, for it is not obliged through birth. It continues, endures-we hold on and question how, sometimes why? Yet to loose it would mean a huge piece of us would perish amongst the rubble of disaster.
And so what is “right” about saying good-bye to a shared lifetime with your father? We love, we share and we come closest to merging our beings with our parents. One day we wake up and we are finalizing the deal, closing shop and spinning into a stratosphere of the unknown. Our father/our life. I say why to a wonderful, long , well-lived life and no more of it. I struggle to find what closure means when you never want to say good-bye with an unimaginable finality. What about wanting another bite of that piece of cake, seeing one more foreign film or giving one more toast at your table of choice?
Sandy, made the pass throughs-destinations. His enthusiasm never wavered. Whether he was welcoming a grandchild into the world, or showing Francine scarfs to choose from at Chicos- he Gleamed.
We talked in one of our forever moments about days like yesterday. We speculated and even tried to calculate the intensity, the pain. With no warning or handbook for the “grave” emotionality the day offers we become flooded with memories. We want to save the metaphorical buttons on their beloved blazer and in fact the blazer. We’ve celebrated our worlds, we’ve divided our sorrows and our journeys go on. I hold our long, well lived and challenging love for each other in our special place that perhaps only we understand- as no one else is navigating our ship, at times our lifeboat. I wish for everyone that run on sentence that never ends.
G and H-I am so happy we created “A Place to call Our Own.” Our time together over this year has been just Great. Ira and I drive out to see you and I look forward to “coming home.” I walk through the door, exchange hugs laced with long term familiarity and our day begins.
We talk, we laugh, we eat, we play and stay all day. Our canasta game has improved as your teaching skills are professional. This brings me back to my childhood of days, unscathed, when the world had a different profile of Peace. I played on Stone Avenue until the street lights went on. Well, I am back to playing games, as life repeats itself.
I couldnt be happier to have found a game we share in common. We have walked the path of life together and we have come full circle. you have welcomed Ira into your home and your hearts as if he were one of your own. He is extremely fond of you and looks forward to our days well spent. Life is good every time we return and resume “A Place to Call Our Own.”