October posed a problem for me. My friend Shari left for Manchester, England, like I did one year ago. As her date of departure approached in September I recalled how I felt as the time came for me to leave the country. Upon looking back, I saw that one thing I really cared about was staying in contact with those I had left here The States.
Naturally, there was the internet to help me both update people on my life and stay updated on things going on here at home. But I didn’t want that to be my sole method of communication. E-mail, an already cold and detached means of correspondence would only be made more so by the distance. So I decided to write letters to those I was separated from.
Now with Shari gone, I longed to do the same. The only problem is finding the time. Writing a blog is one thing, but piecing together a carefully worded extended thought is completely…oh wait… it’s the same. But still, the formation is different, the way it all comes together. It’s difficult to explain but as a writer I see a distinction.
So, as usual, I have been going to class, working at the library, ushering at our auditorium, spending time with friends and doing all the other things a young college student does in his spare time. But I was plagued by the fact that though I’ve been doing all of those things, I wasn’t able to work in writing a thoughtful letter to my dear Shari!
Now I get pretty busy, but as my father says, “All those great men in history had the same amount of time in a day as you do; twenty four hours- no more, no less.” And these guys weren’t sitting around on youtube all day. They were forging governments and invading countries.
Needing inspiration from “the greats,” where else could I turn but to Love Letters of Great Men, the compilation of epistles (letters) by some of history’s most notable figures. And these are some greats, might I say. Voltaire, Beethoven, Van Gogh. These men who produced books, music and paintings also found time to produce “I am a prisoner here in the name of the King; they can take my life, but not the love that I feel for you.”(Voltaire). And “Oh God, look out into the beauties of nature and comfort your heart with that which must be.” (Beethoven).
Leafing through the letters of these famous men, one thing linked them together, aside from their elevated status in our historical memory, and in their own time. It was their passion that spurred production. It was the love they felt for their loves that allowed these well-springs to open amidst wars and turmoil and bridge the expanse that often separated them.
My hope is that this post will do just that. Narrow the gulf between us…convey my love to her, who now is so far away, though at times feels as though she is at my side. I miss the walks around the museum, the span of time sitting, looking at a painting, drinking it in, then looking at each other and knowing that the other knows what you’ve tasted. I miss the pain in my gut and the tears in my eyes, both from the laughter shared with her. I miss where she is now. I know that her adventures there will be different than my own yet very much the same, as we are very much the same.
Autumn is here. The leaves have begun to change. The days get colder and we see less of the sun, obscured by the clouds of a new winter. But still, there are days like today when, though only temporarily, all is bright and beautiful. Despite the clouds of tragedy that surround, it causes me to hope, and look forward to when my sun will return to me.
For Shari, a sister more than blood can say.
