Even when it's cold in Atlanta, it's not cold like in Massachusetts. Of course, we'd take the dogs out for a walk anyway, but here in Atlanta other people take their dogs for a walk, too. Admittedly, most are - like us - transplants from the frozen north. But you meet them, at the Dog Park.
In Massachusetts, there was no Dog Park. Rather than control by the County, each town ran its own show. In general, I like that, but it meant we had to find our own place to take the four footed beasts for their Daily Constitutional. Here, the County has put up a couple of fenced Dog Parks, where the dogs can run together, and the people can talk together.
He was married for 44 years. They moved here from Connecticut, into a big house. Then she died, unexpectedly. He was cheerful, but somehow the conversation kept coming back to her, and how his dogs just didn't keep the Big New House from echoing.
But life goes on, and remembers.
Gerard van der Leun, riffing off a post from The Anchoress, posts a song by Lorena McKennitt. We like her quite a bit, but this made me stop and think about the unexpected. About him, trying to rebuild a life which after 44 years was suddenly upended.
I stayed there to forget.
There on my lover, face to face, I lay.
All ended, and I let
My cares all fall away
Forgotten in the lilies on that day.
It's hard being fully human; experiencing - and understanding - the full range of this life we find ourselves leading. Many have gone before us, who give us clues, if we're wise enough to see. Most only see when they stand on that hallowed ground.
See.
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