Nearly noon. You are sitting at a picnic table in the North Chagrin Reservation (Metropark) in Willoughby Hills. The expansive fully (large and tall) wooded park is quite striking and your spot of choice is fully shaded this sunny, breezy and very comfortable spring Sunday. Yesterday was filled with last minute chores and lunch before leaving shortly after noon. Once in Cleveland Kim suggested Brennan’s Colony on the northwest corner of Silsby and Lee in Cleveland Heights. You and Carol both had cheese sandwiches.
Later, after an excellent salad and Kim’s homemade lasagna supper Paul is at the hospital verbally prepping patients for tomorrow’s surgeries. Brennan has been fed and is being placed in his swing while Owen is watching “Cars” on his iPad. You are surprised you bought two summer hats today, as the black wool berets are too warm. Paul picked out a blue floppy hat for working in the yard and he also picked out a flat “newsboy” billed hat for casual dress.
I like the 1930’s styled newsboy cap because although I never wore one before I was a newsboy some twenty years after 1934. It is a flat cap similar to a beret that sense and it is very similar in style to an Irish tweed cap that would reflected my Irish-Scottish-Basque DNA of some ten to twelve thousand years ago. Anyway, I have quickly incorporated the summer hat into my personal identity.
You feel better, more yourself, when you connect with the Dead which is what you are doing in the previous paragraph. – Amorella
I don’t think of the Dead as dead, Amorella. The Living are always connected at heartansoulanmind “central” with those we think of as Dead, but they are not dead to this world as long as we are living and the generations of our original divergent species continue. I feel we all go back to an original mother and father DNA-wise. I like to think we are all related; we are all (still) connected.
You were about to go back and capitalize “Central” but do not do so because by capitalizing you are implying something that you do not wish to be true. – Amorella
Like Grandma says, “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” Wishing does no good, Amorella.
Brings up a memory doesn’t it, boy? – Amorella
I don’t like to think about it; such a childish thing to wish upon a star.
Kim was about two and you were doing your Mason “Bay Meadows” neighborhood walk at nights from about seven to eight o’clock. You were walking east and saw a bright star (knowingly Venus or Jupiter near a quarter moon and you thought of Walt Disney and the song, “When you wish upon a star”.
I did. I don’t know what I wished but it was a real wish. Who knows why I would even think of such a thing in the eighties – an out of the blue wish because of the juxtaposition of the quarter moon and nearby in the sky bright planet. Such a romantic. I haven’t thought about that event in a very long time. What was I thinking.
It was a hope for the best, boy, for young daughter, her generation and those who followed. Don’t judge yourself too harshly, it is a nearly universal hope. Enough for tonight. Post. – Amorella
I sense a longing tone, Amorella. It is in myself [I cannot imagine you having a longing for anything].
You are attempting to rectify your present thinking (directly above) because you “sensed a longing in my ‘voice’” and now feel you were being impolite in the thought. – Amorella
Yes. This is true. I feel awkward as I do not know you to have a ‘longing’.
Let’s straighten this out. First, get a dictionary definition of ‘longing’; then jump to the thesaurus.
A ‘longing’ is “a yearning desire”. The thesaurus adds:
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“noun - a longing for the countryside: yearning, pining, craving, ache, burning, hunger, thirst, hankering; informal yen, itch; adjective – a longing look: yearning, pining, craving, hungry, thirsty, hankering, wistful, covetous”
– Oxford-American software
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None of the above words fit the ‘sense of tone’ I had. It was a fleeting whiff of ‘emotion or mood’ I have not sensed before. More imagination on my part, sorry, Amorella.
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