Journal entry by Joanne Negstad — 26 minutes ago
Two Gerardt Frost poems were included in the letter I referenced yesterday. The second poem was written after a conversation with my friend's father, whose wife died when he was 46, after only 16 years of marriage. So different than Joanne and Al.
All Over Again
"It was a quiet lane,
one of many in that Wisconsin wood
at the spacious retreat ground
where we were staying,
my friend and I.
We walked and we talked,
for our friendship went back to school days,
and here we were,
past middle age.
The swift years had brought gifts,
as they always do,
of memorable joys,
and chastening sorrows.
We had married about the same time,
but after a few years
his wife had died.
We spoke of that, and I said,
'You've been places
where I haven't been;
you've learned things
that I can't really know.'
'Yes,' he said, 'But one has to learn them
all over again!'
His words checked me then
and have disturbed me since.
Perhaps this is the significance of sorrow,
that it underscores and rehearses
great meanings, so that,
in the round of daily experiences,
we do not lose them."
What do you think the friend meant when he said "...you have to learn them all over again." Joanne's dying and death have certainly been a learning experience for me. But I wrestle with the thought of "learning them all over again." It is my experience that the sorrow of the absence of presence intensifies the significance of memories. It is painful to realize that there will be no more memory making with Joanne, that is done and past. Fifty plus years of memories is all I'm going to get and I don't like it one bit.
Blessings,
Al
All Over Again
"It was a quiet lane,
one of many in that Wisconsin wood
at the spacious retreat ground
where we were staying,
my friend and I.
We walked and we talked,
for our friendship went back to school days,
and here we were,
past middle age.
The swift years had brought gifts,
as they always do,
of memorable joys,
and chastening sorrows.
We had married about the same time,
but after a few years
his wife had died.
We spoke of that, and I said,
'You've been places
where I haven't been;
you've learned things
that I can't really know.'
'Yes,' he said, 'But one has to learn them
all over again!'
His words checked me then
and have disturbed me since.
Perhaps this is the significance of sorrow,
that it underscores and rehearses
great meanings, so that,
in the round of daily experiences,
we do not lose them."
What do you think the friend meant when he said "...you have to learn them all over again." Joanne's dying and death have certainly been a learning experience for me. But I wrestle with the thought of "learning them all over again." It is my experience that the sorrow of the absence of presence intensifies the significance of memories. It is painful to realize that there will be no more memory making with Joanne, that is done and past. Fifty plus years of memories is all I'm going to get and I don't like it one bit.
Blessings,
Al
No comments:
Post a Comment