that your children start where you end. I already see how true this is, how much more my children are than I am, but containing seeds of things i had hoped I would be in them. It is a huge relief. A sense of rest follows when you see that your children can write accomplished research papers, travel the world and make meaningful friendships, endure hardship with grace and wisdom, be open to others in true relationship.
I remember when Josh and AbbyWesterhold came over on a Sunday afternoon, early in the knowledge of cancer time. When we crawled into bed that night after their visit Steve was just so full and animated. He said what a relief it was that they were doing what they were doing - that a part of him could rest because Josh would be giving his life for urban renewal, which was such a huge passion of Steve's. I later imagined how that is true of all of his closest friends, doing work or making music or caring for others in ways that Steve would if he was in their place. I imagine his delight in hearing about it all.
Do not all of us who he loved bear seeds of ideas he loved inside of us?
Margaret has just returned from Italy, after three months away. Mary danced last weekend, bearing a wounded toe without a hint of complaint or evidence. Madeleine graduated from college yesterday in a picture perfect atmosphere of small college elegance. Now we enter the week of remembering. Loving Steve and bearing his absence is the work of every day. He is the unseen absence that is larger than any of our presences. But there is something mysterious in seeing the children express him in their particular loves, sadnesses, and passions. I imagine him now, how he would be experiencing the children and their red letter moments. And my own sense of all these things is expanded.