Today I'm rebounding from an extremely emotional time at a memorial yesterday.
Fifty years ago, I was introduced to a social club. A folk dancing troupe. Through the latter '70's and into the '80's I rehearsed and performed with them. I wasn't particularly good, but they needed males. Association with the club was hugely instrumental in my development as a person.
My involvement became understandably fractured as my professional life grew more demanding. "More demanding" means I had to travel for work and couldn't take time off (ha-ha).
The dance leader passed away at 92 after a lovely life. Her 95-year-old husband, still sharp as can be, hosted this memorial. He mentioned that the shelves and corner closet I built for them eons ago were still very much in use and that I was thought of often.
Three other folk dancers attended -making us the most represented cadre'- and her surviving relatives amassed lots of photographs. I had to refrain from asking the many "who's dead and who's alive now?" questions.
Guys, yesterday's gathering hit as hard as the death of any loved one ever could.
Still, I can plainly recall that many things were going on in my rich life throughout this time and that I'm experiencing something quite common. I've been immeasurably fortunate throughout. It's just the sorrow caused by looking back is today palpable.
Over the past 50 years I've heard stories of members' families who endured true tragedies. There was more than one suicide, a deadly fall, more than a few cases of severe alcoholism and a myriad of "old age" related problems.
I'm well aware that a little melancholy caused by the death of a lovely person and looking back teary eyed at a chunk of one's life is NOTHING to be sad over.
and more for shirts lol
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