ughters: they are each unique and blessed. Yesterday we spent the afternoon and evening with daughter number two who lives in South County of the Berkshires. She is a writer/editor who LOVES the gentle, rolling country of Western Massachusetts and caring for the land. Currently she is writing for NOFA: Northeast Organic Farming Association(www.nofamass.org/index.php)We had hoped to hike with these two sweet young adults in the autumn hills, but it was raining. So, we walked through the farm, visited sows who had just birthed litters of 13 piglets each, went to the chicken coop (for fresh eggs) and strolled through the dirt road surrounded by alfalfa. Back in their little cottage - toasty warm with a wood stove - they treated us to great pork chops, mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts and apple crisp (all from their garden.) And as the evening came to a close, we swaped a few tunes on the guitar... which brought back memories of singing my babies to sleep to this song:
Beng a father to two adult women has been a blessing - not always easy and I have only gotten it right some of the time - but it has always been a blessing. And now I get to savor life with two wise young women... maybe someday I'll get to play with grandchildren, too! As the day came to an end, Mary Oliver's poem spoke to me:
I gave,
to a friend that I care for deeply,
something that I loved.
It was only a small
extremely shapely bone
that came from the ear
of a whale.
It hurt a little
to give it away.
The next morning
I went out, as usual,
at sunrise,
and there, in the harbor,
was a swan.
I don't know
what he or she was doing there,
but the beauty of it
was a gift.
Do you see what I mean?
You give, and you are given.
(Mary Oliver, "Philip's Birthday," Evidence, Beacon Press: Boston, 2009)
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