Five years ago, my dad came to visit me for his birthday. My mom had died five months earlier and though he was putting forth a strong, cheerful front, his heart was broken. The day that he was due to climb up onto the plane and return to his home, he had to be admitted into the hospital instead, on my turf, and so I gathered the email addresses of as many of his associates and lifetime comrades that I could and I wrote to them regularly. My intention was to inform them and to honor him, but what came out of it was a deluge of responses and some new relationships for me.
Of these relationships, there is one which I have lived daily for these five years. When my perspective morphs into eagle eye, I shake my head in wonder.
Connie is over ninety years old now and once upon a time worked with Dad. I met her only once, when I was sixteen, but every morning for these years, we have written to each other and shared our worlds, inner and outer and beyond.
By sharing our thoughts and dreams and concerns and daily doings, we find overlaps and synchronicities in a myriad of places, and we find differences that are fascinating and consciousness expanding. We both love big soft bagels with butter and jam; we love waking up to fresh sparkling snow, we love the oboe and to dance, we don’t like to be misunderstood by our children, we love company but need our freedom, we like to swim in warm water, and we want to explore and have wild adventures and then return to the cozy familiarity of home.
On Sunday I took the train to visit Connie. I shall never forget the image of her standing there to greet me in a bright, fitted lilac colored jacket, with her luminous skin, bright smile, sparkle in her eye and the whole world around us, bursting with thick golden forsythia and dancing cherry blossoms.
Life’s human treasures.
The heart sings.
God is everywhere.