From Dawn to Dusk... the journal (of the white horse) |
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Thursday, July 12, 2001 * Magnolia blossoms... I wish I could bottle the smell of a Magnolia. It is so nostalgic for me. Reminds me of New Orleans and growing up. Reminds me of the old Dominican High School on St. Charles Ave. when the high school and the college were still one. The yard was filled with Magnolia trees and walking out there among them you were inundated with the aroma... |
Back then I rode 2 busses and one street car to get to and from school. Tackling the old St. Charles street car was a lesson in stability and balance. Carrying an armload of books (we didn't have backpacks), and hanging on to the seats or belts where no seats were available was a trick. But it was also fun. I never minded it (my kids have never taken a bus in their life). They would probably look at this story the same as the ole, "I use to walk to school 10 miles in the snow and I had no shoes" type story - unreal to them. I also remember having to count the pickets on the iron fence that surrounded the school yard with my nose. This was an initiation for freshmen enforced by the older students. Again, I didn't mind -- except for the laughter and smiles on the faces of the streetcar passengers as they rode by. It was harmless fun. Ok - enough reminiscing... Was going to continue the thread about holy moments, not-so-holy moments, and senior moments, but am not in the mood for it today. So, we'll leave it for another time. My Mom is off traveling this week. She's going to be 88 this year and lives with my husband and I. Don't know how long she'll be able to run around like she does, but at the moment she is still going strong. In fact, I believe that the reason she does as well as she does and stays as sharp as she is is because she keeps going, stays active, and participates mentally and physically. So many older people do not, or can not, or choose not to -- whatever. But Mom is a wonder! When I was still working, I once had an elderly gentleman tell me, "Being old is the pits!" as he tried to sign his signature with a shaking hand... Came across this in an old newpaper clipping I must have saved at one time or another and thought I'd print it here. I think it says something that needs saying. Blessed are they who understand my faltering step and shaking hand, Blessed, who know my ears today must strain to catch the things they say, Blessed are they who seem to know my eyes are dim and my mind is slow, Blessed are they who looked away, I spilled my tea on the cloth that day! Blessed are they who, with cheery smile, stopped to chat for a little while, Blessed are they who know the way to bring back memories of yesterday, Blessed are they who never say, "You've told that story twice today!" Blessed are they who make it known that I'm loved, respected, and not alone, And blessed are they who ease the days of my journey home in loving ways. enough said... Signing off! Sharon Hartdegen (Rian) |
