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La and Laurel

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  • La and Laurel

    Posted by Barrett<script language="JavaScript1.3" type="text/javascript"> document.write(timestamp(new Date(2004,8,9,8,9,0), dfrm, tfrm, 0, 0, 0, 0)); </script> (Member # 67) on 09-09-2004 15:09<noscript>September 09, 2004 08:09 AM</noscript>:

    It’s been a quiet week in Cuyahoga Falls…

    My sister Ladonna would call Poppy on the phone, saddened by the signs of late summer and concerned about the impending harshness of the winter deep in central Pennsylvania. On the other end of the line on a sweltering southern California day our sister would commiserate with her gently. “The golden rod is blooming,” La would say tearfully and, as always, Laurel (her given name) would say, “I know honey. It’ll be okay. Maybe we can visit in the spring.”

    I’ve watched these two together my entire life, and though separated by thousands of miles for many years, when actually together, they fall immediately into relationship as they always have. These were probably the first conversations I ever heard as an infant while in their care, and something beneath the words touches me as it would no one else, unless it was my twin.

    Hurricane Frances brought heavy rain north into Pittsburgh and I had to do some careful driving through the hills to the hotel where Laurel waited patiently for her baby brother to bring her close to La again. People kept thanking me for making such an effort but, for me, this was just another opportunity to hear them talk to one another, to feel something I feel so seldom any more and probably won’t feel again after today.

    I spend a good deal of time speaking to others about why they hurt and what we might do together to change that, but I have the sense that it is in the silences and eccentric movements that occur between the words that I do my best communicating. I’ve learned how to do this very slowly over the years and make no effort to teach it. I’m not sure anyone can. But I know I had a model to follow.

    Today’s dialogue between my sisters was spare and one sided, but what went on between them otherwise was as compelling to me as ever. I’m exhausted from a great deal of travel lately, including an earlier trip to La’s bedside a few days ago, but watching these two again as I once did before I even knew how to speak adds something to my therapeutic presence nothing else can. And I’d do it all again tomorrow if time would allow. But time is running out.

    Driving home through the remnants of Frances, Poppy dropping off in the passenger seat, the country road taking us south to Pittsburgh was empty of traffic and I knew I could drive as fast as I wanted in this isolated place, but I slowed and considered the day.

    Miles of golden rod lined the road.
    Last edited by bernard; 30-12-2005, 05:55 PM.
    Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. L VINCI
    We are to admit no more causes of natural things than such as are both true and sufficient to explain their appearances. I NEWTON

    Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not a bit simpler.
    If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough. Albert Einstein