This evening as I was driving home after doing errands, I noticed the subtle changes of color in the trees and that a lot of the undergrowth had also vanished with hardly any advance notice.

It's times like this that I want to holler, "STOP!"

****

I'm one of those fools that enjoyed every moment of parenting my children. Um, well maybe I didn't enjoy the poo-poo smearing stage that one unnamed child tortured me with. Not only did this child smear, this child smeared on flapping shutters. Shudder.

But I can remember that on many, many occasions I commanded my children in a stern voice to, "STOP!" I wanted them to stop growing and pulling away until the big pull-away of college and then families of their own.

Was I really asking for too much? I just wanted to freeze-frame them. I loved it all and them so much.

*sigh* I loved being a parent. Even with all the poo-poo smearing and stuff.

****

Well, that's how I feel today about a generation of people that's slipping away from me. Instead of babies, I'm hollering at my parents' generation to, "STOP!"

I wanted my mother to stop and I wanted Siobhan to stop and Ant & Uncle & Ace to stop... and now my father is nobly grabbing ahold of life and my Uncle is slipping away. "STOP!"

"STOP!"
"STOP!"
"STOP!"

They were The Great Generation. I want it to stop... this losing of them.

So, today I noticed the new colors sneaking into my landscape and I wanted to holler, "STOP!"

But then I stopped because I can't stop this progression of lifespan. I just can't. And I have to stop wishing it to stop and I have to stop being sad.

My children continued to grow and I lost them to greater poetic horizons - and so I must also let go of The Great Generation because of the poetic horizons they, too, travel.

****

A portion of this nostalgia is rooted in a conversation I had with my youngest this afternoon. He's in Ithaca, NY with multiple assignments. He's employed by W&L School of Law as a recruiting representative. He's also on campus to meet with administrative people regarding family gifts - including a scholarship that entitles 6 art students to study in Florence, Italy each year.

David was a 6th generation Bean to attend Cornell. In addition to the legacy he was proud to continue, Cornell was the perfect destination for him. Today as he strolled the campus, he choked up with evoked memories and the thread the family has sewn to help perpetuate the fine, fine institution Cornell is. The Bean name can be found all around campus, but today David was especially taken by the newly installed Albert C. Bean, Jr. Plaza. David noted that every single student that matriculates into Cornell must walk across the Albert C. Bean Jr. Plaza. It's daunting and humbling.




I have no more words tonight - no more to say.

So, I'll stop.