Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Oregon is so beautiful. Being there this weekend in the freezing cold surrounded by forest and old friends, surprise visitors and even my brother. The kids played and we cooked and we drank and we stayed up late and we laughed. Oh, how we laughed. It's easy to forget this kind of laughter, the kind that comes when you are with old friends, even if nothing important is said it all seems to matter.
Each night at dinner one of our hosts put little cards under each plate and would call on us at random, playing Oz or maybe the guy from Love Connection. All of the questions turned into a roundtable, each of us jumping in to answer someone else's until it was hard to hear each other speak. Some of the questions caused an avalanche of memories, each spilling onto the table and causing faraway looks and reminders of when.
It was a good weekend. Good for the soul. Fuel for the journey. More and more now I know we'll need it, these connections and also ways to say goodbye. Everyone promises they'll visit and we hope they mean it because our door will always be open and cold beers will be waiting in the fridge.
I've learned the hard way this week that staying connected is more than just words. In the process of downsizing my life I reached out to a few folks I've lost touch with, only to find out one of them has died. More than died, really. He killed himself a few months after we last spoke and a few years ago now. I only learned of it this weekend and I can't help but wonder what those last days were like for him and if he was lonely in the end. I can't help but think of how brave I thought he was, a counterrevolutionary in his own right, on horseback and across borders and yet in the end none of that matters, it's what remains that keeps us and how we choose to live.
Don't forget to send me your Just Posts by Friday and if you are so inclined, read my previous post and join us there too.