If I wrote about a vacation, who would want to read it? Is there anyone as interested in the details as I am? I don’t think so….I think I write for me; kind of making a road map of life events that somehow allow you to take that road again–maybe not in the car or on the plane–maybe so, but maybe not. You don’t have to because you’ve already been there. You’ve already seen the show and it slips into one of those folders in that huge filing cabinet small enough to fit invisibly in my mind, or is it my spirit?..It must be because it’s not tangible. But I can open up that folder at will…that’s why I write. That’s why I take photos; otherwise, I fear the folder might be empty–what then?
Then I can’t achieve a ‘state of being’. I can’t dance to the music again. I can’t skip down the street. I can’t sparkle inside. I can’t absorb the saturation of excitement, and it can’t lift me, can’t give me wings….ah…but my folder isn’t empty, and so I can! You see, I don’t have to really come home to stay. Neither do you. Just take that smile , vision, thrill, tear, that time when you held your breath and when you held so tight, sang so free, felt so glorious, and heard their wonder, exhilaration, awe, fulfillment…it’s all there. It’s a state of being, bolted and bonded, never to really ever slip away. Isn’t it wondrous?
What a wonderful trip it was! I’m glad you guys took great pictures, I’m bad at that. I’m glad we made it a familyi trip and I think we all did pretty great as a family. We couldn’t have done it w/o you. Thanks for making it a marvelous time.