By Many Other Names…

by Glenn Fairman3/22/17

Who can fully understand the rhythms of life and death, and how they weave their spells upon us – consigning us to the depths and lifting us up into the clouds – often within a twinkling of the mind’s eye? In a sterile wasteland of parched flint, against all odds, a rose has broken through and stands as testament to something greater than the world — whose power overshadows necessity and despair. How frequently the door that closes in our faces drives us into the arms of something we should never have expected — something beautiful beyond all human measure.

Glenn Fairman writes from Highland, Ca.
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6 Responses to By Many Other Names…

  1. Brad Nelson Brad Nelson says:

    Speaking of roses, a neighbor who was moving dug up and gave me a rose bush last summer. I finally had to disinter it a couple days ago because it hadn’t taken off after the transplant. Nothing. No green. No shoots. So I transplanted four previously-potted lavender plants into the special bed I had laboriously created for the rose.

    I’m not sure, Glenn, if you are smelling sweeter days now by what you’ve written, but I hope so. May you and my lavender flourish. And a certain amount of fertilizer, I suppose, will help that along. Extend that metaphor as you think best. 😀

  2. Glenn Fairman says:

    It seemed as if the bulk of my grief was front-loaded, and the actuality was a relief of sorts.

    • Brad Nelson Brad Nelson says:

      Glenn, you’re a special kind of person and you don’t seem the type who want’s to be gushed all over. But truth be told, I often wonder how you’re doing and hope you’re doing well. Perhaps the overabundance of phony and inflated sentiment these days makes me reticent to express warm regards. There’s something to be said for the healing hand of time and silence. It sounds like things are getting back to a good normal.

  3. Glenn Fairman says:

    Silence is preferable to babble when we know not what to say. It seems that against all odds, I have become re-acquainted with an old friend from my Middle School days who has been helping me through what I thought might be a life-deadening proposition. She is wonderful. Who says that one can not begin again in the September of one’s life?

    • Kung Fu Zu Kung Fu Zu says:

      By coincidence, I was thinking about this very thing just a few minutes ago. If one looks, and has a bit of luck, there may be old friends out there who can come back into one’s life.

      I have known several people over the years, who have reconnected with old flames, or just friends, after a spouse has died.

      Good luck.

    • Timothy Lane says:

      I was about 40 when Elizabeth began our pairing, and she’s 12 years older than I am. As for KFZ’s comment about old friends, I still have some connections with a couple of college friends, and a high school friend was my doctor until he retired. It helps that a lot of people I knew haven’t moved away from Louisville.

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