The father of a student I taught in first grade years ago, died last weekend while hiking in New Hampshire. I don’t have many details, and maybe I don’t need any. Right now it is enough to sit in the silence, solitude, and simplicity that I have created for myself over the years. From this spot I can send peace to my now grown student, his family and his siblings. I can listen to what I might write to him.
My usual way is to move quickly to the future, but these past twelve or so years, since I began spending time at the cottage by the sea, have help me stay in the moment rather than rush away from unpleasant things. And so I sit with this sadness. For sure the family can’t rush away; so why should I? Instead, I sit with them.
My usual way is to move quickly to the future, but these past twelve or so years, since I began spending time at the cottage by the sea, have help me stay in the moment rather than rush away from unpleasant things. And so I sit with this sadness. For sure the family can’t rush away; so why should I? Instead, I sit with them.