Monday, May 30, 2011

We Are (almost) Brave

On the back porch, one last time, we sit in our lawn chairs, swirling mugs of white wine, sharing stories of our weeks - weeks now, not days, because we spend our weeks apart and there are so many things that need to be told! : Abby on the farm, Sarah at the Inn, I in the office. We are grown ups, or supposed to be, or getting there. Anyways, we are graduated.

We share our regrets of college: the countries we never studied in, the friends we never made, the cups of tea we never drank. We share secrets too. About the countries we did study in and the moments we can try to put into words but will never truly be able to be felt or held by the other.

I reminisce on my return from Oregon, my bold, daring, and courageous return.

"You are still so bold and daring and courageous," they tell me, "Don't let Holland take that from you." They are dear and good to me and, it seems, never short of kind words.

The class after my sweet professor passed away but her baby lived on, her best friend told us: "You must pretend your way into courage. Eventually, it will become you."

May you have the courage to pretend you have the courage.
May it one day become you.