We shouldn't have come down this far
to this moldy basement
to find that old frame that would
grace that old bureau of
responsibilities we moved around from house to house, those
compartments of order and satisfaction we attempted to maintain
all of our lives.
Yesterdays mean more than today, we note,
looking at how young we were in those pictures; how strong and resolute we
sounded in those letters. We had a great life! Those were great days, in that red Camaro
you in that navy suit and I in that Jackie Kennedy pillbox hat, on our way to Churchill for brunch.
How much of our stuff will survive after we're gone?
How much of our parents' stuff survived the mold in their basement?
i watch you both. i listen. is that enough?
ReplyDelete(never never do i want yesterday to be more important for any of us. you, rosaria, go and be mad, make love, roll in the dirt, kiss grandbabies!)
love)))
xo
erin
... this is one of the most delightful comments ~ ever. I echo erin's message.
DeleteA great response, Erin, all of it.
Deletesmiles...i think of my parents basement and all the memories they have collected...i would hope as well that yesterday never becomes more important than today...
ReplyDeleteI'm struck by how we all live, never quite achieving the right balance. If we live for tomorrow, we miss today. If we live for today, we're not prepared for tomorrow. And so on...
DeleteActually, looking at all my ages, this time, and the time of young childhood when not much was asked of me, these times are remarkably similar in how joy is experienced.
Splendid
ReplyDeleteAloha
Thanks for the visit, Cloudia.
DeleteYesterday is for keeping our hearts warm; today is for fun now!
ReplyDeleteToday is for fun now! I like that.
DeleteIt's all so complex, isn't it? Our past held these amazing moments. But, Erin (bless her heart) is right. Today is the day you have, so do what is in your heart to do. Making love sounds good.
ReplyDeleteDo what is in your heart to do: a great advice. I must ponder this one.
DeleteYup. That's about the best I can say. Not much survives, does it.
ReplyDeleteThe evil that men do lives after them
The good is oft interred with their bones.
However, there is no such thing as old, in people. Until you're 80, you're young; thereafter, you are venerable.
Blessings and Bear hugs!
Bears Noting
Life in the Urban Forest (poetry)
I'm still young? Darn, why didn't someone tell me sooner.
DeleteThere is a lot of meaning in this poem, coming down this far. I feel the aging myself and feel the weight of my body, and am also weighed down by too much stuff. I keep wanting to clear it out, and then I'm tired after work. And on it goes. But yes, these moments, now, are where we need to be, and let the rest of it pass through us. Being mad and making love, laughing and kissing grandbabies, yes!
ReplyDeleteRuth, at your age I felt quite trapped by responsibilities, job, family, house...
DeleteNow that I have so much time on my hands I look back and wonder how I could possibly do what I did. It's a good feeling.
That's almost like an eternal concern of mine. What will I leave behind for my children to remember me by? Great post. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Not material stuff, Cuban, but experiences, travel, lots and lots of time together.
Delete