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Bouguereau, The Knitting Girl, 1869 jpg.jpgMy darling little thing,

As I hope I’ve told you, my grandpa was an amazing man, who influenced my character far more than I ever realised when he was here. I wrote a blog post (one of my first to The Last Table) shortly after he passed away, but I don’t think I had truly realised how much I took from him then. His sense of constantly fighting forward to grasp life’s impossibilities is essentially what drove me here. He was mischievous and had a heart that never gave up, never really aged at all. A dear friend of mine recently lost her grandma, and it reminded me of how much beauty we can find in our connections to people we care for. She told me a story about how she played (being an actress) her grandma, performing moment after moment as her from a little girl till she was much older and came upon dementia. It was absolutely beautiful, and such a sweet memory and connection to have with someone you love, and someone you lost. I’m sure, just as my grandpa’s connection made me so much of me, she also made her so very kind and so much more (than just brown eyes) than she even realises now, and this is such a very beautiful thing.

Recently, I found out one of my friends from high school died in March. That means he died nearly eight months ago and I had no idea. Unlike the friend I spoke of in another post, I was far closer to this friend in high school; he had graduated my first year, but stayed about to work as a music tutor for the next few years, and I learned an immense work ethic and musical knowledge from him. He was one of the smartest people I knew then. Yet, as I didn’t stay close to nearly anyone from that time in my life, he passed from this earth without me even knowing: a moment entirely hidden from me. I can’t say he changed me to any degree as much my grandpa did, but these little moments certainly do.

Life is so very much about moments; moments that pass us unexpectedly, that pass us in shame or sadness, moments that bring hope, that bring joy, love; these beautiful, delightful moments. If we do not grab the moment as it drifts beside us, then we may lose it forever. I am far too often the one for missing moments, late to the party, and therefore missing the person I so very much wish I hadn’t. For, I suppose, people are like moments as well, walking, beautiful moments that we lose so easily, yet are so absolutely delightful when they’re here, when they leave a connection spanning all moments.

As I’ve written before, this year may very well pass like a moment, like a nodding off that’s secret to even us. It may go by as I sleep, and to wake upon its end, and so the people may just as well, the beautiful, delightful people I love. Yet, I hope, ever so much, that the moments will not be lost to this dozing off, that they will colour our eyes and light our hearts aflame for the beauty they make.

Like a ghost latched unto the setting sun, who loses himself within the shadow, when the past meets the present, and the future beckons us come, my darling little thing, never forget the moments that are only for a moment, when they peek out the dark.

As you grow from a little girl to be much older, even if you find yourself a wee bit forgetful, never let these moments pass you without regard. They mean so very much.

Loving,

Pa


Feel free to peruse my other letters in the Avon Epistles collection

and understand who I’m really writing to.


  1. Bouguereau, The Knitting Girl, 1869
    • Art is, after all, the capturing of little beautiful moments
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