"What would it be to taste at the fountainhead that stream of which even these lower reaches prove so intoxicating? ...Meanwhile, the cross comes before the crown and tomorrow is a Monday morning." -C.S. Lewis
Friday, September 23, 2005
evolution.
I've sometimes felt comfort in the thought that I can leave behind a written record of myself for my children, grandchildren, etc. all the way down through centuries. But even written words are temporary and elusive.
It's all good. As much as I've day-dreamed about my great, great, great grand-daughter, suzy reading the life story I so carefully wrote and left for her, I've spent an equal amount of time worrying that she'll come accross my journals or emails. crap.
But I don't have to worry anymore because even if I write that my life is in "shambles", it will probably mean something like "On the rocky coast of Maine" by then, and she'll just look up from the journal and say, "I didn't know they ever lived in Maine."
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It's all good. As much as I've day-dreamed about my great, great, great grand-daughter, suzy reading the life story I so carefully wrote and left for her, I've spent an equal amount of time worrying that she'll come accross my journals or emails. crap.
But I don't have to worry anymore because even if I write that my life is in "shambles", it will probably mean something like "On the rocky coast of Maine" by then, and she'll just look up from the journal and say, "I didn't know they ever lived in Maine."
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