Of shards and sheep

When I was young, I didn’t really know anything about the Doppler Effect. I only knew that it made that sound when something like a car, train or truck went by me.

I couldn’t even begin to identify the variation in pitch or any of the mechanics but I genuinely felt its nature and this became imprinted in me – without concept, words or explicabilty.

I suppose we don’t always have to know.

For a reason akin, this has always been a treasure to me:

Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun
That will not be deep-search’d with saucy looks:

Small have continual plodders ever won
Save base authority from others’ books
These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights
That give a name to every fixed star
Have no more profit of their shining nights
Than those that walk and wot not what they are.
From: ”Loves Labours Lost”, Act 1 Scene 1, W.B. Shakespeare

This is the grave of my great great grandparents - through the maternal branch of my lineage. Isaac was a civil war veteran and only lived into his fifties. Tabitha lived significantly longer. I know very little about them other than a few newspaper citations from the early 1900's of her visiting with family. I wish I knew something more about them.

* * *

One of our hospice patients is 99. She is gracious, intelligent and a great conversationalist. It's incredible to me that she graduated from high school in 1945 and graduated from a state university around 1950 - long before I was born. Both her mother and grandmother graduated from the same university as well, with her grandmother being only one of the only two women graduates in 1897.

I'm always in awe of her and her roots...such a beautiful and powerful lady. She owned a newspaper and acted as an editor and writer for the paper for many years as well. Her vision is failing, so sometimes we'll read articles or other writings.

One we shared recently:

"I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them, or touch any one,
or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then?
I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women, and looking on them,
and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well;
All things please the soul—but these please the soul well."
From: I Sing the Body Electric , Walt Whitman

Each week, when we leave, she reaches from her wheelchair for our hands, to express gratitude. Yet, I feel like I'm actually the lucky one.