A simple thought occurred to me on my 32nd birthday yesterday, and it made me happy. My senior buds' stories aren't just about being old. But about ALL of life's experiences. The thought reminds me of this story which “Daughter” wrote a few weeks ago. For those of you newer to the blog, Gloria is actually close in age to me, and my buds and I all call her “Daughter” because she always, and always lovingly, accompanies Aileen, whom we all call “Mommy, to class.
Every time I sit at the oval table in our sun drenched, book laden room I am transported.
The myriad voices enthrall me. Tales of history, pathos, and ingenuity…Nuggets of golden stories I would never know of otherwise.
Secrets of the entertainment business, Philly’s diverse ethnic stories from the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s are offered as well as true moments of accomplishment from my fellow literary travelers. I am in awe and silenced. I think about these stories often while traversing the city or in quiet moments alone.
They move me and make me think. I am adding a new dimension to my “lens” on the cities multi-ethnic neighborhoods.
Sometimes the musings are quite cerebral, a nod to my fellow theatre member. Other times they are funny, poignant, who knew these things about Atlantic City?
Each voice carries weight. Separately they are strong reminders of our past. Together they are a unified crescendo of what makes this city and country great.
And hovering incandescently is the fairy that facilitates it all.
I am honored to be a part of this ritual of words.