Hello Goodbyes

The week has gotten stranger as the days pass. Today we decided to pack up and start home tomorrow. The stream is so high that the path across is covered with rushing water so Marty couldn't get across. I gathered our gear from the other side and carried it across to her and she packed it in the car. As I made trips back and forth I would see things or spots in the woods that would remind me of other times, other camp outs with children and their father. Sometimes a plant or a stone would remind me of something that was once so wonderful. Poignant memories. You never know when there will be a "last time" for something that seems so ordinary. I don't really remember the last time I was there while my children were still little, but I so remember the many times that we would pull into the driveway, open the car doors, the kids would tumble out of the car in excitement and proceed to strip to the nakedness that Meadowbrook would fill with happiness, and relaxation. A meal and a nap and they were off again. Many years have gone by since then and I wish I had known about the last time that would happen so I could have marked it somehow and said goodbye.

I have spent many hours, days, weeks and months at Meadowbrook; have resolved, solved, pondered many of my life's issues there; have camped in sunshine, rain, cold and snow and all that seems to change is the height of the trees. Each of my children have had their issues over Meadowbrook, which sometimes involve other family members, as have I. But it remains the source of the deepest roots any of us have or will have I think. Now I'm realizing how restraining my age and physical condition is when it comes to how much I can do there. There will come a day when I leave the driveway and it will be my last time. Knowing now how many goodbyes I have missed over the years, I deliberately say a deeply emotional, heartfelt goodbye when I leave Meadowbrook. I want the land to know how much I've appreciated its many gifts, memories, solace, and insights. I wish it wasn't 14 hours from where I live because that limits my visits very much.

So this has been a strange year at Meadowbrook and my heart aches for all we might have experienced there. Marty and I are not young and our health does limit us. Mykyl is fond of saying that human beings don't live long enough to become old. I'm afraid she is too young yet to understand how older people feel about themselves and to know how age folds its arms around us in a tender but incidious way. Before you know it, it's so very hard to climb that hill, to pitch a tent, to build a fire, to tolerate rain with aching bones. Have I said my last goodbye to Meadowbrook? I hope not, but it could be so. Life is so fleeting that I become more and more aware of the moment I'm in and try to bring my consciousness into play so I don't take this life thing too lightly and ungratefully. I hope to experience so much more, to share time and build memories with Marty. Our life paths consorted to keep us apart until we had both raised families, experienced pain and joy, each in their turn and time, to grow to know ourselves and how to give ourselves to another, but time is shorter now.

I could go on for another few pages, but the essence of what has presented itself for my perusal and for sharing with you, whoever you might be. So I say goodbye for today...hopefully not for the last time. You are precious to me.

Nemaste my friends,

Dulcinea