This weekend my friend Meg was here from Texas. She’s been through a lot lately, and it was Claire and I’s attempt to bring a little joy in. As it turned out, the timing couldn’t have been better. It was wonderful to have a chance to be together again, the three sopranos. Our friendship is a remarkable one to me. We’re each very different. If taken at face value one would never pair us together. However, our mutual love of ideas, music, God, and exercise brought us together. And, to be honest, Claire, keeps us together. (Claire is better at friendship than anyone I know.)
  This weekend, we met under rather somber circumstances. Life has happened to each of us. And to quote Claire: “Being an adult sucks.” It was hard to see these two girls, once so carefree, burdened with life. I’ll admit to feeling a little out of place. Sure, I’ve had a few periods of intense trial, but overall my life is pretty idealic- to me. I found myself lost for words- a rarity in my life! As the weekend wrapped up, I felt more confused than anything else. I wanted so badly to help, to aid, to improve, and yet choice is an individual matter, and the accountability that follows is likewise. I got a taste of what parents must go through, as they realize they must stand back and let their children live their lives. Too much protection prevents progression. Both Meg and Claire have made big decisions lately, bittersweet decisions, the crucial but hard kind. I’ve been so proud of both of them- for being adult. 
Our weekend was complete with a late night chat, Presti’s, Lakeview Cemetary, Pasta al Forno and Chocolate cake, and even a visit with Mr. Bamberger. (Unfortuantely no run, or rice crispies- I guess we’ll have to get together again!) Megan shared Lakeview Cemetary with us. It was my first visit, but most certainly not my last. The spirit there was powerful. It was like walking into a whole other world- a timeless one. 

I stayed a while after Claire and Meg left. It’s rare for me to get time truly alone these days, and perhaps that’s what lend to the sacred feel. I was touched by two gravestones in particular. The first was a low lying stone that had MOTHER engraved along the top, another engraved FATHER sat alongside. Their names and dates read along the front, but that bold statement of identity along the top touched me. While my experience with motherhood is small, it has been enough to realize that that noun alone can speak bounds about ones life. Sure, there are horrible parents out there, but the majority of fathers and mothers love with a love so great it can’t be described- nor felt until one is a parent themselves. Their sacrifice is endless.

The second grave that touched me was the one above, labeled Harkness. There is a Harkness dormitory at Oberlin, a Harkness chapel at CIM, a Harkness Tower at Yale. The Harkness family became enormously wealthy when the father was the second largest share holder of Rockefeller’s Standard Oil.  The Harkness family’s legacy has lived out through their philantropic donations. Their financial power must have been immense, and yet it couldn’t prevent this: death. 

What a lovely place to rest.

Claire and Meg, I love you! Thanks for a wonderful weekend- to many more!