Looking Back Again

Thank God for the changes in the past year, as, this was an essay from June, 2020

Pilgrim on a Long, Long Journey

As we are both chronologically gifted in the pandemic, my spouse and I are holed up much of the time. It has led to home projects. I continued with our let’s reorganize the garage project yesterday.

It is interesting what one can accumulate in 25 years. I found a softball roster with the names and phone numbers of my daughter and her 14 year old teammates. It was a great bunch of girls with warm, delightful parents.

We were able to share the joy of the team winning the league championship that year. That was just before we moved from LA. What a pleasure to look back.

As we partied the day of the championship, we were unmasked, un-distanced, unprepared with 70 per cent, rubbing alcohol and shared a buffet table together. You remember those buffet tables. Right? What a contrast as as I found myself alone in our garage.

View original post 52 more words

Loving and Parting

” It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.” EM Forster, the prolific author

I think if most spouses heard their husband or wife say that, he/she would soon book the other A Passage to India. Or perhaps he/she would nickname the other Howard  and devise Howard’s End. He or she might well have locked the other in a permanent Room With a View. At least the other spouse would have a view.

A Day in March

Pilgrim on a Long, Long Journey

It was a beautiful Sunday, likely in the month of March in 1977. Spring was in the air. The fragrance of flowers filtered through the breezes. Baltimore was particularly green that year. I could see that all through the 8th floor window of my home. That day was only felt and inhaled when I stepped out into that invigorating, fresh air.

I did that because the Sunday paper had mentioned an open house that day at the Maryland Institute of Art. It was a fine teaching institution established long before I moved to this city in July of 1975.

Once there I wandered through its buildings along several city blocks of downtown. Finally I came to its main building, an architecturally lauded, beautiful edifice. There was a picturesque wide set of steps to the second floor. Nearly hidden away were the narrow set of steps to the third floor.


View original post 75 more words