Today was a partial eclipse. No doubt anyone knows this about today. Here are a few pictures.
The first one looks round enough, until you notice the tiny moon shaped reflection that looks like it’s on the ground. That is the real shape at the time of this photo. The second photo was done by the usual solar eclipse observation way – pin holes reflecting onto paper.
Perhaps I’ll have more thoughts another day.
This is what my children do for me when I have a “quiet” day. It’s a cozy existence.
There are many things in life that go undiscussed. Sometimes because they are ordinary, sometimes because they are monumentous and one can’t even find words.
So I move on to the mundane. There was a lunar eclipse recently. I usually get up for such things; go outside, set up a tripod, take pictures, watch it. This takes time away from sleeping but these stellar/lunar events are exciting. Lately I’ve been neither a morning nor an evening person, and I’m somewhat questioning my personhood during the “day” in between, so I didn’t get up for the lunar eclipse. I thought to myself that if I woke up for any reason, I’d take a look outside. I didn’t wake up until my alarm at 6:30. Sure it was still dark but because I couldn’t even sort out what day it was or remember just why I had to get up in the dark (I must have briefly forgotten that is standard this time of year and has somewhat to do with why I’m so tired) – I sure didn’t remember to take a peek out the window. Which is weird because I always look out windows. Now I would like to note that the paragraph I just wrote was so completely about me that there was not even a point to it. Perhaps *I* have no point. There was a story in the 1960’s called “The Point”. It was about a round headed boy named (aptly) “Oblio”. All the people in the town had a pointed head, but Oblio had a round head with no point, so he was cast out of the village once he was old enough to be cast out (seems like he was about age 7). I think of Oblio now and then. I’m glad it was just a weird 60’s story because it has occurred to me more than once, that I often have no point. I’d have been cast out of any village I’ve lived in. But you see, it turns out he did have a point after all. It just wasn’t easily seen, so I hold on to the hope that is going to be the case with me. Whatever.
So why the rambling you may or may not wonder (assuming you even got this far)? I’m actively trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Or rather, in our community. I don’t acknowledge death very well. But I do want to acknowledge the remaining – wife of Arnie. Leona is left, riven by over half. It’s up to us to help staunch that. Sure there are many that miss him, but not anything like Leona does, and will. This is just a guess, but she likely wakes up every morning to that sinking heartache that the unthinkable really did happen. It didn’t “go away” with sleep, like a headache does. She is the one who has to begin and end every day alone now. And for awhile, it is more than just alone – it’s alone with pain. Without Arnie to help her bear it this time. We can’t afford, for her sake, to spend time and energy feeling sorry at our own loss.
Usually Sincerely, Pam.