Throughout my novel What’s Left, Cassia seeks to learn more about her father’s pilgrimage to the Himalayas.
If you could ask someone in your ancestry to answer a particular mystery about their life, who would it be – and what would you ask?
Kinisi 87
yes, to be made in an image
The day after Christmas
Blessings, all
As the sign in front of an Aroostook County church advised:
When temptation knocks,
let Jesus open the door.
~*~
Yes, I had to laugh.
It all starts with the events being remembered today.
The quote also flips the quotation from Revelation, which I recall with its association with an illustration on my grandparents’ dining room wall, where he’s knocking at a thick wooden door. Maybe that’s a symbol of our own hearts, too many days … closed, hard, and dark.
Today, let him enter, in spirit, and dine with you and those you love most dearly.
May you be spared all temptations in this blessed day.
Under cardboard
still wondering why I’m amazed what one discovers in each move, why, unpacking is almost like Christmas, even the delights of discovering the workings of another’s mind, like Evelyn’s neat way of wrapping electrical cords to appliances (Mennonite heritage appears in curious ways) moving forward, rather than sideways or backwards on ice, your friend who made it thus far and nothing much broke
Some we lost too early
I can’t help reflecting on some acquaintances who departed this life way too early.
Here are ten from my life.
- Carp: He was the heart of my high school newspaper staff, the cutup with a heart of gold. He had health issues, though, and a few years after our graduation, he suffered a rare and months-long decline that completely changed his personality.
- Orpha: Something similar happened to this Mennonite-Amish young nurse who came to Baltimore from Lancaster County.
- Cynthia: The wife of one of my best friends, she was a victim of cancer. I don’t think she was yet 40.
- Charles: My best friend ever, we knew each other during my three years in Baltimore and then went separate directions. I still don’t want to know what really happened in that hotel room, but I do wish I could have eased his pain.
- Bill: He had come through some difficult years and then found and married the love of his life. Unfortunately, he came down with a rare infection. We grieve especially for his widow. Life can be so unfair.
- Jean: She was a year older than me but definite proof of vitality in your sixties. I expected another ten good years of faithful service from her in our teamwork, but then a virulent cancer kicked in and moved quickly.
- Cissy: She had just retired, was delighting in her volunteer work at the local theater, but then she had a hard fall at home. She was always in motion when she worked with us.
- Larry: He knew how to command a room and then lead. Photojournalism powerhouse up almost until the heart attack.
- Swami: No warning. The ashram didn’t last long without her.
- My Grandfather Munroe: Three years before my birth, while giving a toast over dinner, he had a heart attack and died on the table. He was in his early forties and would have definitely had a big positive impact on my childhood had he lived.
Festive bubbles in a blue blown-glass paperweight
Fancy bundt pan baked creation
The way Christmas should look in New England
At the beginning of the week, we had a tease of the Christmas-card expectations of a white holiday. Whether it holds to the big day itself is always in question, and the forecast seems to shift hourly. Even so, enjoy the scene.
Passin’ dem family boneyards along the route
One of my more familiar drives while living in Dover meant crossing over into Maine on my way to or from the Antique House.
Within a seven-mile stretch of the roadway, there were at least 16 family cemeteries – some with only two or three visible stones.
It’s all the more striking when you realize that two separate two-mile stretches have none at all, so the burials actually occur in just three miles. In those parts, you probably couldn’t turn around without encountering a tombstone.
Many of the graveyards are overgrown, with some surrounded by iron railings.
I’m guessing there are more, if we were going more slowly and looking even closer.
Still, we’re left wondering about the families, some who settled the grounds in the 1600s, and how long they remained.
But on the drive, each one is gone in a flash.
