Sienna #3: Mother & Daughter

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Some bonds are universal, eh?

My Cousin Joe

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When I last spoke with my cousin Joe Manson early in November, he was leaving for the airport to go to Miami where, he explained, he was going to work with his sister Maryrose to handle a family problem.In searching the net a few moments ago I discovered that his sister, my cousin, Maryrose died on November 5th.

Joe either knew nothing of Maryrose's illness, or chose to keep their secret. Perhaps it was sudden. He must have been at her side at the end. I was searching the net tonight because last evening one of Joe's daughters called me to explain that on Saturday evening, her dad passed away from cancer. I am very sad. I loved them both, but Joe was much closer to my age so I knew him better. I am told he was lucid to the end, and indeed he'd written copious notes that directed his own funeral. Apparently he planned it for next Saturday, but he neglected to recall that Saturday is a Holy day, hence the Catholic parish church he served as a deacon is fully available only on Friday.

Joe and his wonderful family live just outside of Philadelphia, and this gap of ninety miles has let us lose regular track of one another. I shall miss knowing he was near. He was a blessed friend to my parents when I lived in New England stopping in almost every other day. As a CPA, he handled their finances. He did for them much that I wish I could have. He was always available for advice... Now I wish I'd called upon it more often. There aren't an abundance of very solid people in my world, solidity is something so damned precious and when a piece of it slips... Even a piece that you neglected, yet counted upon... Things become shakier. Damn... It did not seem to be his turn. Others on our line of cousins are older. Others have had more happy days with their grandkids. If you believe in God, you probably wonder why such a good guy wasn't given more of that.

But perhaps God himself grows lonely for solidity,eh?

Take care....

Ted

BTW... I took Rocco out for an adventure a couple of weekends back along the Conestoga River as it flows past Lancaster. This mystically regenerating tree against the color and promise of fall and that endless river felt so hopeful even at a time when things seem to be shutting down for awhile. I recalled it when I thought of Joe and the flow of family memories which continually regenerate and pass along as colorful bits for those who wait downstream.

Mom's Thing

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I noticed during Mom's last years that somewhere near her sat this. Her habit of changing favorite chairs meant new side tables to hold the debris she liked handy. And sooner or later her crystal strawberry showed up there. She never mentioned why, or as I recall, never mentioned it at all. Where it came from? When? Mysteries. I only know where it went... right now it's right over there... on my closeby bookcase. Since her death, it seems to follow me around. Glimmering quietly. It was precious to her, so it's nearby as I type these words.
Probably it has little value anywhere but close to me, where it's priceless.

BTW: going on a trip through Tuesday. Won't be near enough to my tools to post util then. Sorry, but life beckons. Hope to come back with some edgy work.

Award Winner 2006: GrannyBall

Note: Accepted as one of the world's finest Sports Images of 2006 for Canon POTN Book published in the Fall of 2007.

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Why is the sunset such a harsh metaphor for finality? Most species come alive at night. I wonder if cheetahs, when they evolve into sentient beings, will see resolution in the sunrise? For that matter, semi-sentient beings like Paris Hilton, probably greet the sunrise with dread. Hmmmm….. Speaking of metaphors… never noticed that similarity between Hilton and vampires before… But I digress.

There are summer-folk who celebrate the sunset. By the oceans, people hold parties and applaud the solar show as the globe turns colors and splashes into the sea. But Lancaster is an inland city. We lack the gorgeous reflective options of setting sun upon water that artists have captured. So, what to do? Where to find a vista? Is the ball park a scenic? Are people an even stronger setting than undulating waves to reinforce the finality of a day’s end? Or the rising of night?

Meta: (Lancaster, 8-12-06) Canon EOS 20D, RGB color, EF-S 10-22mm, 20mm, ISO 400, 1/100 at f/7.1