When parents talk about having a child who is ill or struggling, nonparents often take the wrong message. They think, Thank God I was spared all that pain. If I can’t order up the precise specifications for my child, the condition in which he emerges, the choices he’ll make, if I can’t be assured that he’ll skirt the dangers that await him, maybe it’s better not to have children at all.
Those of us who know the airless terror of the 10 steps between the second you first glimpse your child’s surgeon through the glass doors and the moment he’s standing in front of you, delivering the verdict—we don’t think this way. Each time one of ours is ill or in pain, we think, Thank God I am here for him.
Yes, Joan and I were there too, about 20 years ago. I kept thinking, I want a cabin/cottage here!
Jim
Jim T – Yes, but the trip there and back is a killer. Not exactly weekend-cottage country!
Great idea Isabel. Looking forward to the upcoming images.
We sailed by but didn’t make the climb.
Jim R – We decided to do the climb after I remembered that seeing the view was one of the reasons I’d selected that itinerary!
That’s a great idea! Curious to see more of your favourite images. Will you be accepting photos in reply?
Had the chance to visit Las Islas Encantadas many, many years ago and hope to return.
Dave – Hey, I have enough trouble managing the mechanics of posting from my emd – you’re on your own!
It’s all about perspective. I hope my 400 steps in other sorts of directions give some people that breath-taking, God’s eye-view of our amazing world. Thanks for making the climb, Isabel, for all of us.
Laurna – It was breath-taking in more than one way! I like that notion of other ways of getting a view – as you’ll see when I finally get the site totally (totally) reconfigured, the everyday wonders are worth celebrating. Heck, just worth noticing.
Noticing. That is what you accomplish in your writing, Isabel, that pulls me out of my ordinary crisis-level mentality into a greater calm and reflection. Lost vocabularies shiver in anticipation of new use. For a wonder, I happen to be alone in the house, surrounded by the variegate greens of lawns, fields, and woods ribboned with a rainbow of birdsong. A more-than-Edwardian peace prevails, since the “servants” are appliances and won’t be bobbing into my workplace offering to refill my teacup. The stirring of the top-most boughs of the maples on my horizon reminds me that forces greater than I can comprehend move at some Will into which my prayers are gathered to accomplish changes that dwarf the fears that spun those petitions. My priorities kaleidoscope into a simpler rearrangement where little things are noticeable and do count after all, even, perhaps, for everything .
Laurna – There now, you see, this is why you’re the poet (and I’m not!). Thanks for your word picture.
Incredible view, great capture. So, how many ‘steps’ does a FitBit register when you climb 400 steps?
Carla – Yes, and thanks! Not sure re the Fitbit – but I bet twice that. With no allowance for the arduous conditions, darn it . . .