“Peace, prosperity, liberty and morals
have an intimate connection.”

- Thomas Jefferson

Last week a friend of mine died of cancer, the second friend I've lost this summer and both too young.

Last week was also my great aunt Essie's funeral. She was the last of my grandfather's siblings and our last living connection to the early years of the last century. Alva, Elza, Bransford, Mamie, John and Essie, the beloved children of William and Fannie.

Last week I also weeded the garden and felt the puffy, aching arthritic pain in my left middle finger, which reminded me of my father and his twisted knuckles. His stone has now been set and I'll be able to see it next month when I go down there. He's in the row at Oak Hill in front of Essie and her husband, Raymond.

Last week I also went to lunch with the Reverend Mother, the Mall Diva, my young cousin DeShae, and Miss B., the young woman who works for me. The young ladies are all in their early to mid-20s and Miss B. and the Diva are both recently engaged. You can probably guess what the women were all talking about at lunch. In fact, I nearly had to guess because I could barely make it out in all the background clatter and noise of the busy restaurant. I followed along by watching the light and animation in all of their beautiful faces.

Last week I had the chance to feel old, and grouchy, and tired of the random inevitability of life, yet in the gleaming of an eye, the softness of a cheek, the lightness of laughter and the tossing of hair I found the renewing power of hope and dreams and even second-hand it will last me this week, and maybe longer.

It's a wonderful world.

Mitch notes that it was 25 years ago today when Big Country's album "The Crossing" was released in the States. The big Top 40 hit from that album was the song "In a Big Country" ...

In a big country, dreams stay with you,
Like a lover's voice, fires the mountainside...
Stay alive..

Four years prior to that album coming out I had spent a semester in England, taking some classes and traveling the country as much as I could. The first time I heard "In a Big Country" (and every time since then) I thought of a conversation I had with a fellow American student after we'd been there for a couple of months. We both realized that one of the biggest things we missed was "the horizon" and the sense of how much land was beyond it. Even in the English country-side the horizon always seemed too close and you couldn't quite shake the feeling of being squeezed. As much as we missed good hamburgers and American sports, we found ourselves having longing thoughts of the Kansas interstate.

I don't think much about Kansas anymore, but the lines of the song have always stuck with me.

So take that look out of here it doesn't fit you
Because it's happened doesn't mean you've been discarded
Pull up your head off the floor -- come up screaming
Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted

As dark and obscure as they are, there's a certain "suck it up, wait it out" optimism underlying them. I've lived long enough now to have experienced several economic and political cycles, as well as times of feeling isolated and other times overwhelmed, and I think I've learned to hold onto the constants -- faith, the relationships you can count on, and the promise of another horizon and what may lay beyond.

I'm not expecting to grow flowers in a desert
But I can live and breathe
And see the sun in wintertime

Stay alive.