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Spoiler Alert: Sappy Post. Seriously. You've Been Warned.

Posted Nov 05 2009 10:03pm
I think I've mentioned before that one of my favorite authors is Elizabeth Berg, mainly because I usually finish one of her novels feeling good about the world in general and even my own life in particular. It may not merit the Pulitzer Prize, this style of fiction, but on the other hand maybe it does. It is not such a small thing, to be able to give people that feeling.

Anyways, in one of the many quotes that have stuck with me from her books- this particular one is Never Change, I believe- the main character is talking about the frustrating inadequacy of words to fully express some of our deeper, fleeting emotions. The example she gave was of looking at the autumn leaves, still vivid on the trees, and of being so unable to convey the depth of what she felt at that moment to a companion. "I mean, what would I say? 'Aren't the trees pretty'? And so I keep quiet."

That's kind of how I feel about this blog, sometimes. I can put a funny spin on annoying situations, OF WHICH THERE ARE PLENTY; I can even try to express, and thereby ease, the pain my life sometimes brings me. But the joy? Sometimes it's difficult to put into words. It's hard and raw and excruciatingly tender to say the truth, which is that I would bleed myself dry for my children. (And never tell them about it, either, so they wouldn't feel guilty!) That when I watch them playing happily together, here is what often comes, unbidden, to my mind: "This is enough. I could die now and it would have been enough."



Another way to say it is the lyrics of this song, "Existentialism on Prom Night" by Straylight Run. (And yes, I know, now I'm quoting SONG LYRICS. Next up: a mix tape! Maybe several! Accompanied by a friendship bracelet!) But here it is anyways:

There are moments when
When I know it ends
And the world revolves around us
And we're keeping it
Keeping it all going
This delicate balance
Vulnerable
All knowing

(Sing like you think no ones listening)

You would kill for this
Just a little bit
Just a little bit
You would
(You would)

Sing me something soft
Sad and delicate
Or loud and out of key
Sing me anything

We're glad for what we've got
Done with what we've lost
Our whole lives laid out right in front of us












Aren't the trees pretty?
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