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I am reading Posterity: Letters of Great Americans to Their Children
by
Dorie McCullough Lawson and I am moved to write to my children wherever they are.
My children are many and varied. The near-to-be-born spirits with whom I spent long hours out-side of and bedside of at varied hospitals. With the two women blessed with the desire to be mothers but not at the time with me. The gentle lives of those trusted to me by "God-father" status by friends now long removed from daily life. The children of my brothers who have always seemed like they were my own and indeed who share the preceding generation's imprint of strengths and weaknesses. And the inherited children who I call my sons and daughter. Come as the answer to my prayers, from the depths of my state of being marooned on the Mid-Atlantic shores ,for a life-long love.
Dearest child, the heat of youth wants nothing more than to create you. The strength of life is spent freely consuming our bodies to sustain you. Thoughts of you in our aging fills our minds with praying for the future to defended you. We are chaff thrown on the fire, keeping the light burning so you may see your way and your children's way. There was little my father wrote down to hand down to me. Today I come across a small book of Stars in which he wrote, "...with love. I used to find my way in the Sky. Fath". This along with his instruction on how to plant a garden and make it grow are the two things I remember most about him, and wish to pass along to you. "Your fingers always smell good after working in the garden, like the dirt." and "I used to find my way in the Sky" to me have been life long connections to God's creation. One's that have never failed me. Along with remembering my fathers hand on my cheek and brow when I was sick and his saying, "I love you" is the legacy I wish to pass on. It is not a lot but I pass this on to you my children with all the love I have from the bottom of my heart. Fill the universe and spread God's love.
My children are many and varied. The near-to-be-born spirits with whom I spent long hours out-side of and bedside of at varied hospitals. With the two women blessed with the desire to be mothers but not at the time with me. The gentle lives of those trusted to me by "God-father" status by friends now long removed from daily life. The children of my brothers who have always seemed like they were my own and indeed who share the preceding generation's imprint of strengths and weaknesses. And the inherited children who I call my sons and daughter. Come as the answer to my prayers, from the depths of my state of being marooned on the Mid-Atlantic shores ,for a life-long love.
Dearest child, the heat of youth wants nothing more than to create you. The strength of life is spent freely consuming our bodies to sustain you. Thoughts of you in our aging fills our minds with praying for the future to defended you. We are chaff thrown on the fire, keeping the light burning so you may see your way and your children's way. There was little my father wrote down to hand down to me. Today I come across a small book of Stars in which he wrote, "...with love. I used to find my way in the Sky. Fath". This along with his instruction on how to plant a garden and make it grow are the two things I remember most about him, and wish to pass along to you. "Your fingers always smell good after working in the garden, like the dirt." and "I used to find my way in the Sky" to me have been life long connections to God's creation. One's that have never failed me. Along with remembering my fathers hand on my cheek and brow when I was sick and his saying, "I love you" is the legacy I wish to pass on. It is not a lot but I pass this on to you my children with all the love I have from the bottom of my heart. Fill the universe and spread God's love.
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