Nov. 20, 2001 - 18:20 PST

THE WONDERING JEW

Different Words

It seems that maybe we will be traveling home with the same number of bags, but weighing three times as much. We no longer drive out to Oregon and return with a car packed to the gills, so our baggage will have to do the job.

From here will go daughters Christmas presents to family and things Heather has admired that have been bestowed on her with daughters blessings. I no longer have the prerogative of daring to complain as I must sit in the background watching others doing the heavy lifting. I do remember they days that I had to pay for extra bags and weight -- boy it would cost a bunch now. So what do I do ? Pout over in the corner and pray that the bird will lift every one off the ground with the excess baggage of those homebound people bearing Christmas gifts the day after Thanksgiving.

Heather and I seem to be able to travel anywhere but to daughter's home and carry light, both ways. It is I guess just the interchange between mother and daughter, each giving to the other tokens of love and concern one for the other. It is similar between Heather and our daughter who lives in Denver, but little by little stuff changes hands and is brought to us by car and our little bit goes out by our car. More or less a painless operation that way. Really, I am ever thankful that the girls love their Mom so much. Through the year they come up with little somethings for her. And Grandma makes and mends little things for the grandkids and pitches in here helping in anyway she can.

In 1943 there was a popular song called, "Tonight We Love," that used the prettiest part of a piano concerto, Number 1 I think by Peter I. Tschaikowsky. As Heather and I went through our preliminary wooing and winning cycle, that song became our song, and that movement still strums the strings of my heart. In itself it is a glorious piece of music and still runs through my head when I glance across the room at my love.

So tonight as I am an innocent onlooker that glorious concerto plays in my head, but the words to it are, "Tonight We Pack," the same tune, just Different Words . . . . . . . . .

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