This morning I said to Bob, “At least we didn’t annihilate a civilization.” His response; “We are annihilating our own.”
And in some ways it’s true. After 250 years, our democracy is fading rapidly. Republican senators cannot find the courage to confront our Commander in Chief. Generals have been purged and we’re left with leaders in Congress and the military without a backbone or a soul. A Turkish proverb says: “When a clown takes over the palace, he does not become king, it’s the palace that becomes a circus.”
But yesterday I was busy with my sister Kay. Her elevator is being replaced on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and so she’s flown South to discover the joys of a Nashville Spring. Since our DADU is mid-construction, she moved into an independent senior living apartment only a mile up the road. She will have two restaurants and a cafe in the building, along with a plethora of activities to attend if she sees fit! There are art classes, which she could teach, and armchair pickleball, or even Mahjongg.
As one might with any nonagenarian, we got around to discussing legacy. Kay and I watched Jane Fonda on Substack talking about wanting her children to be proud of her, and about doing the things in life we are afraid of because at the end, we’ll regret the things we didn’t do… and Kay said, “I was never afraid of anything.”
It wasn’t really surprising, because after all my sister was a stewardess in the 50s and 60s, when women had to be weighed and measured. She has defied the odds of our Year of Living Dangerously; she lost our Father at the age of 14 and promptly fell into a coma like a Disney princess after the automobile accident that nearly killed our Mother and sent me on my own trajectory from PA to NJ. She’s had her share of suitors, two husbands and a distinguished career in medical illustration and sonography. And she raised her daughter, alone, with a little help from Camp St Joseph in the summers.
I asked Kay once, ‘Where is your happy place?’ She looked into the near distance and remembered visiting camp with the Flapper on weekends, “…my daughter would run down cabin lane and jump in my arms.” This from a woman who’s traveled around the world a few times!
I’m sorry this will have to be short today, we are still busy hanging pictures, unpacking suitcases and getting Kay oriented. It’s not like New York, it’s slower and calmer and warmer and dreamier here in the South. But at least our country didn’t bomb another country into oblivion. If I’d had time to think about it, I would have been very afraid.
Here is a picture of my beautiful sister Kay in her NY apartment in front of an oil painting she did in one day at the Art Student’s League.
MountainMornings 