February 24, 2008


I picked Rose up last night from her carpentry class. Yup, you read that right. She's taking classes at the Randall Museum, a wonderful hobbyist's dream location in the woods, with a gorgeous big workshop full of workbenches & heavy machinery & power tools. Glassed in on two sides, so I stood outside and watched for awhile. She's building a boat (I'm not supposed to know that) and was fiercely concentrating as she hammered & clamped & glued. Oh, you can imagine, a bit, how I felt watching her - overwhelming love, and joy, and inexhaustible sadness.

I used to think I fell on the "nurture" side of the famous equation - I believed that most formative influences on a person's character came from their environment. But I am so delighted to witness the supremacy of "nature". Rose is so much Ray's child. Carpentry, camping, playfulness, and natural athleticism. And her nature, her spirit, brings me such joy - she is an amazing child: thoughtful, curious, open to the world's wonder, a wanderer. But the part of her that is most like my Ray is her enduring sweetness. She tucks love notes into my pockets. She makes me breakfast. She sent me to work one day with a bag of treats - including a spray of flowers and a ziploc with a votive candle & matches (for that serene moment at my desk?). She takes care of me when I'm sick.

Four years. Remember high school, college - 4 years was such a momentuous, significant, eternity of time. Four years without my Ray? How can that be.

To all our beloved friends and family who've reached out, and who've held us close - thank you. Please forgive our hibernation, and know that we love you, we know you love us, and we know you love our Ray.