Oct. 13th, 2010

somejauntypolka: (Default)
I keep telling myself and others that I'd like to find my way back here. That I'd like to write more. That I'd like to write at ALL, to go through the process of collecting and gathering my thoughts and committing them to virtual paper. Of course things come up, I distract myself with this that and the other and I forget about it.

Sometimes I dream about writing letters. Proper letters, pen and ink, pages and pages long; to the people that I care about, the people I miss... heck the people who are right nearby but that I don't see or chat with often. Oh what grandiose plans.

For the moment, I just have to start somewhere. To ground myself in what I want to do by saying it out.

This weekend I attended a wedding. I like weddings. This wedding, was not exactly my thing as the participants were for the most part Obviously Christian. I generally don't care what people believe, I just know that I'm not particularly comfortable in the presence of God or Jesus and he/they/it was invoked a plenty.

Anyway, I observed something that left me feeling a bit anxious about the future. The groom's grandparents wanted to present a poem to him, and a song. Oma and Opa were ancient. Together they slowly made their way to the mic and warbled their way uncertainly through a poem and then later a song. Opa's voice was strong as he confidently sang the harmony line of a hymn that I bet he's been singing for years. In the past, I imagine that he could sing it a bit more in tune. Their daughter and granddaughters joined them, holding them close and singing together as a family.

It was their faces that really affected me. Their facial expressions appeared sour at a first glance, incongruent for the occasion. It was then that I realized that what I was looking at was the inexorable hand of age loosening the corners of their mouths and softening their brows. Shrouding their features with wrinkles and translucent skin. It occurred to me that they had been together a long time, and I imagined that what they saw when they looked into each other's face was something altogether different.

I wondered who would look into my face when I am that old, and remember my smile, the richness of my laugh resonating through firm vocal cords. Who would remember or recognize my smile, the sharp flash of my teeth. Who would hold my hand and love me unconditionally when I sing off-key or stumble over my words. Who would I give such a gift to and who would be honored by that giving.

This year, I turn 36. I remember so clearly being 11 and thinking that 17 was grown up. Being in my mid thirties has meant having to open my eyes to my future. I used to have the luxury of not really having to think or worry about it before. Today I have the luxury, patience and attention to contemplate and dream up long-term investments. The harvests I can collect in 1, 5, 15, 30 years. It's like I gained the ability to see into the future.

Sigh. It's a little scary, but okay too. Guess it just comes with the territory.

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somejauntypolka

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