"From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines, going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me."
Walt Whitman (1819-92)
"When I look back now over my life and call to mind what I might have had simply for taking and did not take, my heart is like to break."
Akhenaton (d. c.1354 BC)
And now, the current weather, from some random person we pulled off the street:
Friday, June 25, 2004
Happy 200
leg-a-cy Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -cies
Etymology: Middle English legacie office of a legate, bequest, from Middle French or Medieval Latin; Middle French, office of a legate, from Medieval Latin legatia, from Latin legatus
1 : a gift by will especially of money or other personal property : BEQUEST
2 : something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past
3 : What this blog will eventually be a part of, I think.
I lost a dear friend from the web a few years ago.
Odd that she would come to mind here, now, when I was all ready to do a lighthearted entry for my 200th post. The more I think about it though, the more appropriate it is to talk about her.
Two hundred postings on \__Cliff Between the Lines__/. And more to come, God and the power company willing. It doesn't seem like something I did, as much as it does something that just happened. I think a lot of the things we do that are the most valuable happen just like that.
My friend passed away suddenly in her sleep. Her husband awakened one morning and she was lying there beside him, peaceful, an empty shell whose spirit had been suddenly called to her God's waiting arms.
That's not a bad way to go. But it took a part of him that I don't think he ever rebuilt. I can see why.
I only knew her from her postings on an Internet email group. What I did know was that she had a heart of compassion bigger than the entire world, and was very smart, and very, very devoted to God.
A few days after her passing, I went through my email archives where I had placed so many exceptional posts she had written, sharing so much of her wonderful spirit. I gathered them all together, zipped them up, and emailed them to her husband.
I don't think he ever thanked me, but I know that he treasured it. Sometimes the act of thanking a person is just too emotional, and I understood that.
She left a big hole in the world. No one will ever fill it.
Then there are the ones that suddenly vanish. For example, a lady named "Fern" in California that had hepatitis C. She knew it was terminal. One day she just quit answering email, and eventually her mailbox filled and timed out.
None of us knew her full name or her phone number. We couldn't check. I know she must be with the Lord now.
Then there was "Froggy." He was a member of the same list, and never said too much. However, he and Fern exchanged hepatitis links on the list. When Fern vanished, Froggy would still post new links he had found from time to time, then he vanished the same way. I suspect he suffered from the same disease.
We walk through life with hands covered in ink, and leave our fingerprints on everyone we touch, just as they leave theirs on us.
That, in the most personal of ways, is our legacy.
On this blog, I have always made a point of putting down my real feelings at their most basic level. Inky fingerprints, each and every one of them, now 200 in all.
Some of these are traces of my past. Some are whispers of what I found to be funny, or exciting, or interesting. Some are reflections of my deepest feelings, both joy and sadness. All are me, all are inky fingers.
Thanks for joining me on this journey, and thanks for being a part of it.
Immortality lies not in the things you leave behind, but in the people your life has touched.
Unknown
