This Bird has Flown – Part One – She’s The One !

“I'm gonna watch you shine

Gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign

So you'll always know

As long as one and one is two

There could never be a father

Who loved his daughter more than I love you"

               - Father and Daughter, Paul Simon                              

In the beginning the word was good and yet the wandering pilgrim misunderstood. Eventually he was enlightened as to how everything was getting better all the time. They say Christmas is a time to celebrate the great gift of love and life. It was eight and twenty years ago this December 25 that the companion who brought life into the world brought home with her pilgrim partner the great gift. Realizing Jeremiah was a bullfrog they sang in great - filled celebration

“Joy to the world

All the boys and girls now

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea

Joy to you and me “

Number one’s arrival was also the birth of incalculable changes and transformations within and without.  “I feel fine” in lullaby tempo became the little girl’s favorite as she was rocked and rolled to sleep. She was always considered a Jersey Girl even though it would be eleven years before she would see the boss in person. During that event she never sat and never turned back.

The pilgrim hoped that the turning her to bat lefty and wearing number nine would somehow be instrumental in some type of success. It led to her becoming a pen pal of the splendid splinter.  Father and daughter made her fist pilgrimage to the great cathedral in Boston just before he was cracked open like a lobster at Anthony’s. One plus one did equal two and always will. Catching a trout on her first cast ever seems like it happened yesterday!

While coaching her on soccer pitches , in the hardwood gymacafetoriums with hoops  and taking the helm of the Ascent sailing he had hoped that the lessons would apply to the greater journey. She always played hard and with joy… and grew in wisdom more than he ever dreamed.

From the beginning of the presence of number two it would be obvious that the two hawk hill girls would need no inspection or explanation as to how their bond will never die.  The first one has always made her intentions of love and protection of and for the second one very clear. That love was and remains reciprocated.

And now that path marked by rapid turning calendars and seasons has finally come to that fork, the point of separation.  The pilgrim is heard complaining in the night how google maps does not provide advice on how to maneuver changes in the landscape. The little one who once danced freely from here to there to almost any song that moved her spirit is now the focused woman respected and loved by fellow trekkers trying to make their mark. That moment has arrived where she and her new companion,

“a good choice” , the pilgrim says, “as long as he keeps his head down and swings slowly and plays with integrity ,”

 are about to join together taking that new path on their own new sacred adventure together. 

So the imperfect pilgrim quietly smiles hopeful that though he was not present all ways she somehow knows that she was and will always be in his heart. The advent of the new day conjures a predawn reflection as attempts are made to be present to the inevitable moment…joyous and peace-filled - he recalls how this was all  anticipated in the song  welcoming her  to the world

“There will come a time

I know

Where I will have to let go

And find a different way to show

How  I love you Lindsay”

                                                       She's the One

                                                       http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpDIfcmQb3Q

                                                       Father and daughter

                                                        http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtT3xSSKmMQ

                                                        I knew The Bride

                                                        http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8-gZ7V4Z_Y

Congratulations - Joe and Lindsay

                                                                                  Leigh and Lindsay at Fenway

amdg

This bird has flown: Part Two – the Brown Eyed Girl

 So the imperfect pilgrim sits in the solemn solitude of silence watching the fresh new autumnal breeze loosen the orange yellowed red leaves. Geese honk heading home as portrayed in  Whyte’s wedge wings across the heavens burning their freedom into his own heart. Squirrels scamper this way and that gathering as many of the now land based acorns before anyone else notices.  Voices from past soccer fields to the words of gatherings of poets in the woods echo in the distance and Packers and sox still reign supreme. The hands of the flawless Swiss made watch tired from years of exacting rapid constant movement cease their efforts. Albums of memories fill the mega-chip banks of his weathered hard drive .Though expected , the new season seemed to arrive without warning.

He wonders if the second one’s launching has been adequately prepared and provisioned. Has he taught her enough? Has she listened? How could have he been more effective in his mentoring and modeling? Are the charts for the course accurate? Will she be confident when the winds shift and tides come and go? Will she call if she thinks she’s lost?  Did she know how much he loved her and how he tried to show it? Did he become overconfident with the perceived success of the first one’s departure from the safe harbor?

 The free bird is taking flight as a certified healer commissioned to join Florence and the Nightingales serving the broken hearts on the beast infested island of fading monuments.

The pilgrim believes that his prayers have always been answered and is hopeful that  they not be ignored now.They are all that are left.

“Please bless, protect, nourish and guide this young woman’s path and spirit all ways. Help her know the great love and peace around and within her.”

The nest empty and the carousel continues to move round. He recalls the museum man once observing, as they toked cohibas looking to the constellations one clear night on a plantation dock,

“The universe continues to expand. Every second something is changing. Something is being born.  Something is dying.  Nothing is ever the same. We can’t stop change. We just need to just be and let go.”

So the imperfect pilgrim sits in the solemn solitude of silence present to a new chapter, humbled and grateful for the undeserved grace and gifts. His companion hands him another cup and he responds with a small hope-filled smile

“Our baby’s gone.”

Poem - The  Journey by David Whyte

http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Journey.htmlDaid Whyte's Journey

For Leigh...wishing you the best in all things all ways ! Love you ! xox :)

amdg