Bittersweet
by Elouise
A passage from one of Mary Oliver’s poems came to mind Wednesday evening as I wrote in my journal. On Tuesday we heard our two granddaughters speak to gathered friends and family for half an hour each. They talked about their lives, their dreams, and their experiences in school and on trips here and abroad. Each is sensitive, observant, articulate, and determined to follow her dreams.
Here’s what I wrote in my journal. The passage from Mary Oliver’s poem follows.
It’s all so bittersweet – watching our children and grandchildren grow up – time taken from my life as their lives expand outward – and mine exhales, drawing energy inward – already dying. Maybe becoming elderly is about becoming expendable – moving over or moving on to make room for the next generations.
Mary Oliver says it well – most of our ‘lives’ we’re not even here – the great before and the ageless after of a flash in the darkness.
Tonight I’m weary, and my heart is letting me know it’s running out of steam. Yes, it’s late in the day. It’s also late in my life. Teach me to number my days. To love life, and relinquish what I can no longer carry.
I wonder how my highly sensitive self is figuring into my health as I age? I feel more reflective, and content to do nothing in particular except feel my feelings and rest my body and mind.
It was difficult to watch one granddaughter’s highly sensitive self yesterday as she spoke. I wanted to hug her and tell her how wonderful it is to have this awkward gift.
Here are the closing stanzas from Mary Oliver’s poem, “Hummingbird Pauses at the Trumpet Vine.” She’s urging us to pause and Look! Our time on this earth is short. Pay attention Now! to the hummingbird, the roses, the lilies floating in the black ponds….
Look! for most of the world
is waiting
or remembering—
most of the world is timewhen we’re not here,
not born yet, or died—
a slow fire
under the earth with allour dumb wild blind cousins
who also
can’t even remember anymore
their own happiness—Look! and then we will be
like the pale cool
stones, that last almost
forever.© Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Vol. One, pp 56-57
Published by Beacon Press (1992)
Tomorrow is commencement day. I’m getting ready by chilling out, breathing deeply, and taking in this beautiful weather before it disappears.
Happy Friday, and thanks for visiting!
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 June 2019
Photo found at georgiawildlife.com
Telling the Truth 
Hello Elouise, I am starting to wonder if I have been selfish and uncaring for most of my life. I can see how you care and how you have given of yourself; but I am your age – we established that some years ago – and I don’t understand why I go on each day thinking only of that day. Admittedly, I do make sure someone is going to be able to pick me up after an investigative procedure this coming Friday. But haven’t lost any sleep over it. Maybe I should start worrying. Except one thing: I don’t know if I’ve done all I should do to make sure of my life after I have died.
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Hi, John. Your comment made me stop and think. Hard.
First, I don’t find you unselfish or uncaring. Though your family and close friends might have other ideas….
Second, I don’t think we can know exactly what will happen to us when we die. Nor do I find images about a place we’ve never been (beginning with death itself) very useful. Especially when I think about the work of dying itself. Here in the USA we tend to think of death as a sudden end. But for most of us, just aging itself is already a form of dying. And the more health issues we have, the more complicated it gets.
So I have hope for every human being that whatever comes next will be just, full of grace, and perhaps even a delightful surprise. Still, I can’t count on anything but mercy and grace in the end. Maybe I’m naïve, but I believe the Creator and Judge of all the earth will do right. Because of this I don’t wonder whether I’m one of the sheep or one of the goats. As I recall, there’s only one true Lamb of God. All the rest of us have gone or been led astray.
I do hope your procedure give you some clarity about your health. We’re all as fragile as babies as this age, even though some of us don’t want to be ‘babied’!
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