I was thinking, as I went to work this morning, and then again as I came home early, while -the-sun-was- still-up early, of how much I enjoy the young folk in my family. Last weekend, we went to Binghamton to watch our children celebrate their engagement, and to participate with them in their joy. This weekend my parents and my niece, as well as the newly-engageds, were in my house, and the joy of their presence is still with me, even now, as I wait for my niece to tell me she's boarded the train in Manhattan to take her back to Providence, Rhode Island, where she is a sophomore in college.
There was laughter in my house, the kind I sometimes share with the girls, but not often enough. There was light, and sound, and energy. Even my parents, struggling with health issues, seemed to be happily affected by the gay mood in the house. I didn't cook a lot - though you wouldn't know that to see the amount of the leftovers - so it can't be about the food. We didn't DO a lot, though my niece turned twenty on Sunday, and we took her to dinner and a movie.
There was just a joie de vivre, a spirit of love and laughter, of pleasure in each other's company, that I have not experienced for a long time. It was sweet...and I savor it still.
Of course, I wrote a poem...can you blame me?
ODE TO JOIE DE VIVRE
Some day
when I am old, and gray,
and all my limbs are feeble,
I will recall that day, when we
were all together, sharing one
last happy laugh...
...joie de vivre.
Some evening
when I am worn, and weak,
and every beat is more
than I can bear to feel,
I will review that hour, when we
all sat together, sharing one
last funny tale...
...joie de vivre.
Some morning
when I am slow, and dull,
and every step unwilling,
more than I would make,
I will reset the hour, when we
all loved together, sharing one
last happy hour...
...joie de vivre.
(c) Copyright 2007 by Teri Bannerman
