It is probably not possible to
permanently elevate life with words; but as you know, I never give up on the
idea. I sit here trying to be fresh, witty, to give you a lasting thought, or
at least something to let you know how it feels to be me thinking of you, and
loving you without bounds. As I have told you before, I will be disappointed if
I leave this planet before giving a full account of myself in writing, and any
such account must include an expression of my love for you; hence these words.
One of the great challenges of my life has been to
find people with whom unedited speech is possible. Often the only choice I have
had is to find a way of talking closer to the way those around me talk. I am
not saying I cannot relate to people or engage in plain speak with them, but
rather, that from time to time; it is nice to relax my editor and let the words
come out the way they first appear in my brain.
I have had a few friends who allowed me this
unedited speech, but my fondest memories have been of you and me in the car
with the words coming easily for us both.
You are someone with whom I can talk and never feel
the need to edit. And when you speak with that beautiful rhythm of yours, it’s
as if I can feel my mind relaxing. When I talk to you and we are really
communicating, I feel compatibility between who I believe I am and what we say.
We now live separate lives and
I am sure you love the freedom from my cloying nature. I can tell your current
project is to find inspiration to guide you, to stay active, progressing; all
while appreciating your life more than my driven nature has permitted me to.
You have already demonstrated the capacity to enjoy each moment in ways I have
never attained.
When we are young, people
discuss our potential, our ability. At my
age, no one speculates any longer, but now they look at my productivity, at how
effective or efficient I am. We only
have a short period of time to spend in what might be called “The Ability
Years”, the precious time of expectancy, future-mindedness, of being a
caterpillar. You are still in those years, despite your milestone birthday
today.
But a few things you have
already clarified, such as that you travel well, your memory is sharp and your
perceptual habits keen, and that as your two 4000 mile drives this year indicate; you seek more from life than sitting on a couch or in an office
chair.
Where we start our lives tends to be due the
decisions of those responsible for our birth. From those put up for adoption to
heirs of fortunes, the once placid embryos take what’s dished out. Something wonderful happens, though, if we
are at least mildly blessed by circumstance, because up from the horizon of our
minds can come light enough to work by.
My father prayed for my soul on a daily basis,
wanting less for him and more for me each passing day. His blind mother brooded over his
future. Her parents would have cringed
to think she would spend her last twenty years in total darkness.
I follow in that line. I use you as a compass, sun
dial, and road atlas, all in one. For
better or worse, I am never any better or worse than what’s going on in your
life at any given instant. I know, your life is not a possession of mine but
yours to work out and it is that process I have learned to enjoy. I remember early
glimpses of the wonderful adult you would become.
Do you recall the short period at age ten or so when
you became fascinated by butterflies and moths?
We bought you the Audubon book of moths and butterflies and you and I
went out into the field near our house and caught butterflies trying to match
them to pictures in the book. There was
this one large brown moth that stayed for days on the rail beside the walkway
leading up to my office at work. You figured out what kind it was. We even
bought you a net and a type of scrapbook where you could “mount” the ones you
caught, but you lost interest in the project when you realized you would have
to kill the poor things and then look at the slaughter every time you opened
the book. That was my first real insight into the depth of your compassion for
other sentient beings and this is the greatest capacity we humans can
demonstrate.
Then, shortly before Thanksgiving, in 1997; we
drove past a dead deer that had been hit by a car. You told us later, seeing
that deer caused you to reflect on how unnatural and cruel it was for human
beings to keep and kill animals for food.
So you decided to become a vegetarian, partaking of your last hamburger
at Backyard Burgers in late November, 1997. I was glad for your decision, but
mostly pleased to learn of your reasoning, knowing it demonstrated the depth
with which you were experiencing life.
As long as you live in such a
way that brings you increasing hope and sustains this abiding love for the
living; I will be thrilled to watch your progress, and no matter where your
journey leads, my spirit will still try to reach yours, to send this message: you are loved and your life is affirmed. If you get your own heart’s permission for
the choices you make, you never need ask for mine.
I love you Stephanie Kay
McCullough and Happy Birthday!!!
