Life Goes On, Part One of???
Sunday is a day that I will be processing for a while and one that I am grateful to have shared with all involved. Walking into National Life brought back many memories- the bomb shelter kitchen that I will always associate with certain people- chef bouncing around anxious to succeed, breaking down lobster with Garrett, listening to rambles about Gatling guns, Pierre expounding on the beauty that is rillette. It was never a place that would make me think of Bob. All of that has changed.
It was the kind of summer day he loves, sunny, a breeze, cloud formations, comfortable and comforting. He was not there; there is no way that he would have been even if physically able. One word that everyone keeps using for him is humble; there is no more apt description except for all the words and stories that were spoken. From the moment of walking in to see Emma, finding W, Adam, Andy, Angie, Dennis, Payson, Martha, Serena, Glenn, Brooke, Derek, Brian, Jason, DH, Molly, Travis, Brad and all the others I miss here; so many faces and names. He touched each of us in unique ways. Being recognized as influential made him crazy.
Then J made his less than rockstar appearance; the shimmer beneath his surface a little dimmed and not just from the brown liquid and jet lag. We have become such a population of long distance communication that it seems easy to forget the importance of proximity. It makes me wonder how it is that we recognize our 'tribe' without speaking. And yet, we do. Later that night I asked J exactly how it was we came to be friends. Sure, same town, different buildings, interests, all pointing towards nothing. Somehow it happened and my life is better for it. Maybe I will get to the mushroom dinner after all.
Jason is brilliant and perceptive- who else would have chosen 'The French Laundry' as the reception book. The event and ones that followed are still unfolding in my head and sure to keep doing so here...
It was the kind of summer day he loves, sunny, a breeze, cloud formations, comfortable and comforting. He was not there; there is no way that he would have been even if physically able. One word that everyone keeps using for him is humble; there is no more apt description except for all the words and stories that were spoken. From the moment of walking in to see Emma, finding W, Adam, Andy, Angie, Dennis, Payson, Martha, Serena, Glenn, Brooke, Derek, Brian, Jason, DH, Molly, Travis, Brad and all the others I miss here; so many faces and names. He touched each of us in unique ways. Being recognized as influential made him crazy.
Then J made his less than rockstar appearance; the shimmer beneath his surface a little dimmed and not just from the brown liquid and jet lag. We have become such a population of long distance communication that it seems easy to forget the importance of proximity. It makes me wonder how it is that we recognize our 'tribe' without speaking. And yet, we do. Later that night I asked J exactly how it was we came to be friends. Sure, same town, different buildings, interests, all pointing towards nothing. Somehow it happened and my life is better for it. Maybe I will get to the mushroom dinner after all.
Jason is brilliant and perceptive- who else would have chosen 'The French Laundry' as the reception book. The event and ones that followed are still unfolding in my head and sure to keep doing so here...
Comments