The past…

I smell the scents of my grandparents. I feel the movement and receive the warmth of my predecessors. I sense their movements around me and even feel the brush of their hands. I see their shadows and ‘understand’ their encouragement.

It is strange how the past haunts me. Or rather I should say, it is strange how it envelopes me. It seems the past and shades of my past are everywhere in my life.

Hardly a day goes by where I do not ‘hear’ the voices of my predecessors. They provide me with caring advice, consul, and criticism. They provide me sounding boards for my thoughts, ideas, and actions. They even listen to me as I try to expand and develop my non-primary languages, German and French. I am only able to hear them in the languages they spoke.

These kinships, bonds and experiences enrobe me in comfort, warmth. They remove my fears of the future and anchor me to my family, my heritage, my future. In an odd and unique sense, I feel I must be somewhat like a Confucian in that I seek and obtain these comforts from my ‘ancestors’. Although I must admit my relationship(s) are less reverential and more personal than those of traditional Confucians.

So where does this rambling lead me, I am not sure. Sometimes, I think I must most certainly be crazy. But then I realize, I don’t care.