Thursday, March 4, 2010

Last Leaves, old friends

     Not too many years ago, I was having lunch with Lucile Kirk, who had recently lost an old friend, and she said to me, "I don't want to be the last leaf on the tree."

     I think about that, often.

      Because I am one of two close friends remaining from the CSG class of 1937.  I am also one of two close friends remaining of the Wellesley Class of 1941, and also one of two close friends still alive from our memorable Saturday Night Crowd of seven couples.

     This gives me a 50% chance of being the last leaf of three different groups of old, old friends.

     Not that there is anything wrong with that! It doesn't sadden me, or make me happy, and I have figured a way to stay in touch with all of those who have left us. I write a little something to them every now and then, and they reply, in my dreams. They speak to me, directly, and I don't need a dream-book interpretation. I get the message, I truly do.

     I can send an up-date message to my missing friends, here on my blog. That's a totally new concept for most of them but I am sure they will catch up quickly. Just remember wedeb90 blog spot, and we're back in communication. This is comforting to me, even if it sounds as if I am slightly nuts.

     I just need to believe that our memories are the way we never really lose anyone.

  Dear all,
Where ever you may be, my old friends-- you could actually be anywhere, I have no idea of the choices for the after-life-- but I just know that there has to be a way for me to reach you, sophisticated as communication is today. I always like to think that people in heaven are making phone calls to me when a face or a name or a dream comes to me, unaware. But how do I know if you are getting the messages from me to you?

I see you, each in your own outdoor, garden-y rooms, amid soft, pinkish, purpley clouds, in hidden grottos, and in clover-filled pastures, beside the still waters of a diamond-clear stream, in the gardens I always wish for but have never achieved.  Bob’s special cloud, I know, must have a small road banked with day lilies , under overarching trees, just like the short, quarter-mile stretch of country road on the way to Hide-A-Way Hills.

     Watch for my next blog.  Bit by bit, I will fill you in on what's been happening to me since last we met.

                                                                                              With love to all of you