Ah, the big question. The balloon that follows us wherever we go, sometimes so high and gone in the wide blue sky we don't notice it. But always that taught string tied to our wrist by the memory of grandma or dad or someone we still miss so, so much. Other times rubbed up by dad or mom or your crazy friend Gary and stuck to your face, blocking your view of everything around you, making forward ambulation for the moment, impossible.
It's fascinating to know there's an end, but also mesmerizing to not know what or when it will come or how it turns out in the end. And same for those we love.
Maybe that's why we read so much. And love longform tv.
You are a master of the apt comment, Jim. You nailed it with "It's fascinating to know there's an end, but also mesmerizing to not know what or when it will come or how it turns out in the end. And same for those we love." And...I agree. Beyond being disturbing in varying degrees for different people, it's also just plain fascinating.
This is one of the best pieces I have read in a while. As I reader you provide so much for me to think about. As an editor I marvel at your eloquence. Beautifully stated. Thank you.
You have done it again! Made me gasp, first thing in the morning, with your graceful, humorous, imaginative flow back and forth between the personal and the universal, between life and death, between the present and the future. How beautiful you are, dearest Susie. Thank you.
Every time I write something that swings back and forth like that, I have questions about the propriety of it. But then I realize that that is profoundly what life is. As you would say, Jinks, the light and the shadow.
Susie, this is just beautiful. You know, it's never too late to start rabbinical school.
Thank you, Don. Too big and too small.
So beautifully expressed Susie. This huge Question. I think about it often. Thanks so much .
Thank you, Jill. Sometimes I feel as if I'm in touch with our entire age cohort pondering these coming changes together.
Insightful, intelligent, inspiring. 🙏
new frontier, isn't it?
It is, indeed.
Nice Susie!
Ah, the big question. The balloon that follows us wherever we go, sometimes so high and gone in the wide blue sky we don't notice it. But always that taught string tied to our wrist by the memory of grandma or dad or someone we still miss so, so much. Other times rubbed up by dad or mom or your crazy friend Gary and stuck to your face, blocking your view of everything around you, making forward ambulation for the moment, impossible.
It's fascinating to know there's an end, but also mesmerizing to not know what or when it will come or how it turns out in the end. And same for those we love.
Maybe that's why we read so much. And love longform tv.
Thank you, a sweet meditation indeed.
You are a master of the apt comment, Jim. You nailed it with "It's fascinating to know there's an end, but also mesmerizing to not know what or when it will come or how it turns out in the end. And same for those we love." And...I agree. Beyond being disturbing in varying degrees for different people, it's also just plain fascinating.
This is one of the best pieces I have read in a while. As I reader you provide so much for me to think about. As an editor I marvel at your eloquence. Beautifully stated. Thank you.
Very much appreciated. Having a readership that "gets it" is the main event, don't you think?
Yes, the back and forth. I'm very familiar with it and appreciate your way of talking about it.
There's probably some sideways, as well. Have to give that some more thought.
This has been my favorite piece you’ve written. Thanks, Susie!
Thank you, Joel. I hope I can strike that note, whatever it might be, again and again for you.
You have done it again! Made me gasp, first thing in the morning, with your graceful, humorous, imaginative flow back and forth between the personal and the universal, between life and death, between the present and the future. How beautiful you are, dearest Susie. Thank you.
Every time I write something that swings back and forth like that, I have questions about the propriety of it. But then I realize that that is profoundly what life is. As you would say, Jinks, the light and the shadow.