The Last Page

We will be having left-over Thanksgiving for dinner tonight. Last evening, John and I shared the traditional fare with Janis and Larry!

We bought the turkey. She roasted it. She made deviled eggs and gluten-free brownies. I made mashed potatoes, corn (cut off the cob), and lemon pie. We each steamed garden peas, and we made our own gravy. Larry shared his cranberry sauce with John.

I even included two cloth Thanksgiving napkins along with my contributions. And, of course, chocolate chip cookies for Larry.

Our dining room was on ZOOM, where we could see one another, and hear first-hand the murmurings and moans. The food was delicious, and the company was delightful. True thanksgiving.

The four of us have been very mindful to avoid unnecessary exposure to the coronavirus. We mutually decided virtual was the best choice. It was Larry’s first Zoom experience. He said we will definitely have dinner together via Zoom while John and I are in Florida for the winter.

I finished another journal.

A mixture of emotions always accompanies the ritual of writing the date of the last entry on the cover. I chose to let a poem be my final entry.

Truth-be-told, the poem was begun on the evening of November 21, 2020, and completed on the morning of November, 22, 2020.

Perhaps the poem, like our virtual thanksgiving, is a bridge:

The Last Page

Years of journals
Pages yellowed from
Decades of moments
Unfolding like
Butterfly’s virgin wings

Each new volume
Filled with possibilities
Nothing hidden
Raw experience splayed out
Telling the ancient tales

Momentous occasions
Now lie perfectly flat
Letters etched with
Precious precision
Fading with great haste

Someday perhaps
These words will land
Upon lips of one who can
Treasure what was
Just because it still is

… within the heart

Debra Basham 11-22-2020

The first page of the new journal begins with: One week from today we expect to head to Florida. Willing to have all of that go easily and safely. The greatest unknown is seeing the kids. Weather will play a role in all of that.

The final words on that first page in the new journal are from the “voice” (what I call Holy Spirit):

Remember, your faith is verifiable.