I Can Row a Boat…

This sweet black and white is most likely Central Park.  It reminds me so much of the Boston Public Garden and the lagoon where my grandmother often took me for summer swan boat rides when I was a girl.  I was always put in a pretty pastel dress with white gloves for our city jaunts and I’m not sure if it was always so, but I recall the soft frothy pinks of magnolia blooms encircling the trees like spun candy.  The Public Garden has a Victorian touch and the gardens are beautifully done within the bounds of good taste.  Ditto the monuments and fountains and the rod iron benches that line the meandering pathways – tailor-made for hand-holding and strolling.  It is very genteel with its pastoral remnants and botanically-crafted gardens and is a deeply romantic place.

As my daughter’s wedding day approaches, I find myself nostalgic and easy to persuade with pictures, music, and scents.  Flash backs and memories infuse my days and I am taking many voyages to yesterday.  But now, in addition to the nuptials, I may be moving from the home I’ve known for 18 years to a beautiful cozy new place.  The challenge is not to be blown away by every wind in the process.  It may have been folly to begin this right at this time, but it’s as though I am being led by something unseen yet strongly felt.  Whether it comes to pass, is still unknown but I am pleased to discover that even though I am a weakling in many ways, I can venture into uncharted waters alone and hold my own. I’ve learned things that I’ve never known –  how to ask for what I need, negotiate when necessary, and stand down change and fear even when the other shore is not yet on the horizon.  I find I can indeed row a boat….(can you?).