Beautiful

I suggest you listen to this. It is beautiful, truly beautiful. You know sometimes you hear something and it actually touches your heart strings and there is a tremble or a sound, like from a harp. This story did this for me today.

It's StoryCorps day. It usually does the trick.I have not gotten to my drafts folder. I am holding back and hiding... not for any real good reason. Sometimes that is just where I live. I would rather be talking or writing or expressing or dancing. But there you have it...

Just in case you don't have time to listen, here is my favorite part:

"And my dad said, 'You know, when I was a kid I was injured, and a family took me in. I do not know their names or anything about them. I just remember they had other children.' Mr. Marshall said, 'Do you remember a teenage boy that used to carry you on his shoulders? That was me.' I noticed my father look to the northeast, Mr. Marshall looked to the southeast, and I saw a tear run down their faces."

"I felt like I was invading somebody's privacy, so I quickly left, and I let them have their moment. It was hard for me to see for a little while, either," Julian says. "But I could look back and see the depth of memories between these two old men. My daddy wasn't a real emotional man, and he didn't dwell on those things, so I never knew of this family until I heard the conversation. And you know, to hear that made me know there were a lot of things about my father that I didn't know."

I wish I could capture this much emotion in my writing. Perhaps it is the catch in his throat, or the tears that aren't falling as he talks about the tear he saw or the ones that blurred his vision. He really brings alive just how he felt when he experienced this episode. Lovely, truly beautiful.


Photo credits: me, at the beach in No Cal...totally unrelated, but also beautiful. Wish I were there.