From the age of 17, when we both entered the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet in St. Paul, I have been 16 days older than she was. Now I'm 18 days older. This was one of our favorite songs: we sang it for our mothers on Mothers' Visiting Day, and there was not a dry eye in the pews. Martha sang second soprano, and I sang alto. She had a beautiful, strong voice.
A very moving tribute to a dear friend. It's hard to be separated from those we love, but you have a lifetime of memories, and that's a great blessing.
Joared & diana: the memories are part of my cells now...and, who knows? I may get around to writing them down. all my best convent stories are Martha stories. She had a wicked sense of humor in addition to her beautiful art. What I love especially about "Jesu Rex Admirabilis" is that it's a 16th century madrigal.
Diana: Well, we're talking about 58 years. There were many years in which Martha's and my lives developed without much or even any contact with each other. Some of the people I've known longer than I knew Martha (grade school pals) are still in my life. How does lifelong friendship happen? And why with some and not with others?
If there's a story here, it's been written in mythology. Hmm....One thing I can think of is we came to know pretty much everything about each other. We were flat out honest with each other. And even though we started out with a certain piety, that got dumped long ago for individual reasons. The same kinds of things made us laugh. It didn't shock either of us when--or that--we left the church. Also, the same extraordinary people influenced us in the years before we met each other. We were never best friends, either. Our time together was a gift, light and infrequent, like a rainbow.
"How does lifelong friendship happen? And why with some and not with others?"
That's a good question, perhaps one worth probing in literary form. Though everything doesn't have to be a book. Our memories of people we love and share our lives with are much more fluid than that. Sometimes it's enough just to remember and cherish those memories in our hearts.
A beautiful tribute to someone near and dear, I assume. Very moving.
ReplyDeleteFrom the age of 17, when we both entered the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet in St. Paul, I have been 16 days older than she was. Now I'm 18 days older. This was one of our favorite songs: we sang it for our mothers on Mothers' Visiting Day, and there was not a dry eye in the pews. Martha sang second soprano, and I sang alto. She had a beautiful, strong voice.
ReplyDeleteI'm really sorry Mom! I know you loved Martha and that your friendship was one that had lasted decades. ((((hug))))
ReplyDeleteThis will be part of our music for the service, ME. Thank you! My mom loved you, as do I-
ReplyDeleteLeslie, Peggy, and Gretchen....Thanks.
ReplyDeleteXOXOXO
ReplyDeleteG: back atcha. i hope you're doing ok. same for ed & ruby & amy and her kids.
ReplyDeleteSo difficult losing a dear friend -- treasure your memories -- lovely tribute.
ReplyDeleteA very moving tribute to a dear friend. It's hard to be separated from those we love, but you have a lifetime of memories, and that's a great blessing.
ReplyDeleteJoared & diana: the memories are part of my cells now...and, who knows? I may get around to writing them down. all my best convent stories are Martha stories. She had a wicked sense of humor in addition to her beautiful art. What I love especially about "Jesu Rex Admirabilis" is that it's a 16th century madrigal.
ReplyDeleteShe sounds wonderful. A lifelong friendship born in a convent would make a very interesting story, perhaps even a book?
ReplyDeleteDiana: Well, we're talking about 58 years. There were many years in which Martha's and my lives developed without much or even any contact with each other. Some of the people I've known longer than I knew Martha (grade school pals) are still in my life. How does lifelong friendship happen? And why with some and not with others?
ReplyDeleteIf there's a story here, it's been written in mythology. Hmm....One thing I can think of is we came to know pretty much everything about each other. We were flat out honest with each other. And even though we started out with a certain piety, that got dumped long ago for individual reasons. The same kinds of things made us laugh. It didn't shock either of us when--or that--we left the church. Also, the same extraordinary people influenced us in the years before we met each other. We were never best friends, either. Our time together was a gift, light and infrequent, like a rainbow.
"How does lifelong friendship happen? And why with some and not with others?"
ReplyDeleteThat's a good question, perhaps one worth probing in literary form. Though everything doesn't have to be a book. Our memories of people we love and share our lives with are much more fluid than that. Sometimes it's enough just to remember and cherish those memories in our hearts.