Marion,
That would be grand! I think you are right - we are kindred spirits.
If we got together, we'd likely talk ourselves into a stupor. Ha!
We'd enjoy THAT immensely!
I've come to realize that there are folks in the world that are, what I call
"present" and those who are "NOT present". We are definately in the first
category. People ask me all the time: "Mah, how do you know so much stuff"
and I tell them "I'm a fount of vast amounts of useless information".
"Useless" only to the general populace, not to me. We acquire information because it genuinely interests us, not because it leads to specific ends or attainments.
It also has mostly to do with love, don't you think so MarionIf you love someone or something, you want to "know" and you can't really "know/understand" truly
unless you love.
It may sound crazy, but after I did the research on my Dad's army years - I had
this overwhelming feeling of his love for me. I don't think it's that he loves me more,
but rather that something has changed in ME, enabling me to receive it/feel it better.
I think that love & understand & appreciating, condition you somehow to give & receive
more of same. That's what this journey is all about after all. Just like boot camp, except
the conditioning is on the inside.
I'll bet that when you began all this, you never imagined all the wonderful roads you'd
travel and people you'd meet. C.S. Lewis once said that good books are like maps - you never
know where they'll take you. YOU did that, Marion! We're all out hunting for our people
with only bits & pieces of maps & here you've created a highway for us. What a great thing!
How very proud your dad must be of you!
I also think that there is no time with God, so whenever I look at that photo of the baby
who was me, I think that no matter how old I get or how much earthly time passes,
my Dad still has his arm protectively around me. I do wholeheartedly believe that - and
for you & your Dad too. Besides, I call him my "patron saint of household & car repair".
Ha! There's very little that my father (as with most WWII vets) couldn't repair or alter
(whether you wanted them to or not). My mother used to call this capacity "Tinkering" as
in "Your father's on the roof tinkering with the antennae". I've asked him for help in big
things & small & he always comes through. There was the time when I had to shut off
the electricity to the attic and I said: "Now listen Daddy, I'm down here in the cellar in front of the electrical box and Ma is recovering from surgery, so I don't have to time to spend
all day turning switches on & off trying to find the right one. Which one is it? OK I'm goin'
with #12". Of course, that was the right one & I thanked him.
mary ann