Wednesday, April 15

Hello... Goodbye.

Some books I dabble in, constantly. I was given the 'Treasury of Verse' by a dear friend. I suspect it may have been his original school copy. Stained with ink, as it is, it suggests slightly childish storage?
Though the friend was no longer young, when he gifted this to me, I have treasured this book, & the memory of our shared love of poetry.

He used to leave me romantic notes, in beautiful hand-written calligraphy, at the place where I worked. I would get a "Page", to come to collect something from the office. I knew the office staff had read the missives, (he never sealed them... ego??)because I would see them, peeping, to see who the recipient of such romantic gestures, & wonderful poetry, could be?

I think of my romantic gift giver, whenever I read this book of verse. I see his face, his champagne eyes, his curling black hair, and I hear his ready laugh.

The two small books are a panacea for my love of miniatures, & I love the words contained in both the books.


I am so happy to see the First Dog has finally been chosen. How gorgeous he appears, how thrilled those two young girls, at this wonderful joyous dog!

Bo Obama!

I knicked this photo from an official website. He does look like a very handsome and worthy dog, for the position of America's First Dog.
I confess, like a lot of folks, I had never heard of Portugese Water Dogs before.
Now I am sure, the demand for these lovely dogs will soar to ballistic heights, which may not be a good thing at all.

I wish all the dogs involved, safe, loving, and healthy, happy lives.


Now for the Hellos ...& the Goodbyes.

A train station, or an airport is a place where one can observe greetings, & farewells.
Our Son, when he visits, travels by train. As we are a 'Rural' destination, we see many glad or sad greetings and partings.

The 'Weekend Father', who has his children clinging to him, as they sit on the curb, waiting for their mother, to come to collect them. Often they seem reluctant to leave the father. It is sad to watch as they cling to their father, then gradually withdraw from his embrace, to stand alone, when their mother arrives in her car.

The agonised farewell, the mother sitting in the car, head in hands, hiding her face, as if to deny the existance of her sometime partner. The father of her children, ignored or partially acknowledged. How sad for the children, torn between two loves.
The father, clutching the children close, telling them he loves them.
The mother, still hiding, hands over her face.

We see them, or similar, every time we stop to drop our son off, or arrive for collection.

The sad ones, the glad ones, taking possession or leaving the children behind.
The children, not wanting to take sides. Not wanting to betray either parent, hiding their true feelings, so as not to hurt either parent.

I watch the children, their guarded little faces. Who can say how they will eventually handle their own adult lives, as a result of their fractured parents.

Airports are different matters. Often the farewells are more dramatic. The travelling one, eager to begin their new adventure. Edging away, with slight body language shifts.
"Let me go!"
The parent, if that is the one left behind, silently pleading,
"Dont be so eager to go. Stay a little longer!"
"Remember me!"

Or the greetings, on arrival. The slightly withdrawn posture of the returnee. Not wanting to give away the newfound freedom. Or a slumping at the thought of returning to old restraints, perhaps.

The overjoyed parent, so glad to have it's child again in the arms of love. Or the child, returning, perhaps from a bad trip, so glad to be among family again, clinging, loving so fiercely.

So many faces of love, relationships, gladness, sadness.

Tears. Tears of joy. Tears of guilt. Tears of utter sadness.

Hello and Goodbye can contain so many different meanings.

Beatles, Hello Goodbye.


Kitty said...

I have to be in the mood for poetry. But when I am ... I am and indulge in it totally. I love songs, I think, partly because of the poeticism of the lyrics.


Thimbleanna said...

I love to watch people at airports. It isn't as dramatic now with all the security stations, but it's still so very interesting!

Morgan Mayfair said...

People seem so lost... Funny, there are answers out there, but you have to sift through so much hogwash to find them...

Jellyhead said...

Oh, you're tugging at my heartstrings today with those hello/goodbye stories! You write so evocatively Meggie.

fifi said...

What a beautiful memory to have! So romantic.
I hope you kept the notes...

I'm afraid I read the dog's name as Boobama. Naughty me!

You reminded me of an airport homecoming: i rushed home from Egland on a whim and realsied on the plane it had been such a was so awful at the airport, my mother was so overcome with joy, and I was overcome with misery and remorse...awful....

peppermintpatcher said...

I love Bo's fluffy white socks at uneven lengths.

Pat said...

I'm a people watcher, too. The stories I make up in my mind about the people I watch are probably much more exciting than their actual stories ...

The Sagittarian said...

Oh I love airports for that very reason, so many emotions milling about and spilling over. One of my happiest memories is from January this year when we flew from brisbane to Sydney to catch up with friends of mine and my 11 year old practically elbowed her way off the plane and literally ran and jumped up to one of the friends - she was so excited to see him again! (He's like a Uncle to her)

Alby Mangroves said...

One of my favourite Beatles songs. Your description of the exes and their children made me sad. Very eloquent. The Man and I have discussed our views on these things.. never speaking badly of the other parent, etc. I wonder if this is as necessary to some people as it seems to others, or if it's that much harder to achieve if you hate each other.

The Fool said...

Arrivals and departures at airport terminals and train stations fascinate me, too. Having been the prodigal son, the father, and the lover in such settings so many times over the years, I must say I prefer the aloof content and distance of the quiet observer. Hello-Goodbyes...there's so much said without/beyond words. Nice post. Thanks for sharing.

Lone Grey Squirrel said...

I really enjoyed this post; both about the story of your romantic poetic gift giver and your observations on hellos and goodbyes. Indeed when I too have observed the dance of the estranged parents, i just wonder why they couldn't work it out. Why wasn't love enough.

Molly said...

You brought tears to my eyes with your hellos/ goodbyes!

Tanya said...

I love reading your thoughts and seeing your train station and airport and people you observe. I wish I and the power of observance that you do.

I agree with you about all the dogs in the world needing safe, loving, healthy, happy lives.

I heard someone say if your think about your age you will become that age. I try not to recognize my age (which is not to say I'm trying to be blatently younger than I am.)