First, I have to start this post by thanking everyone who participated in the Help Japan Vegan Blogger Bake Sale: by baking, by bidding, or by telling people about it. And of course, the biggest thanks goes to the other Ms. Higgins for organizing it all. It took a lot of work, and I know she's still busy coordinating and making sure everyone gets their donations in and their goodies delivered to their door. Although I don't have an official number yet, I've heard that we raised $3177! Not so bad for a day and a half, huh?
As for me, as for today, I'm feeling nostalgic. Or perhaps that's not the right word. I had a lot of dreams last night, and I woke up before I had the chance to glean their significance. Dreams of moving back to New York, of making cakes out of whipped cream, of playing Scrabble with my stepdad. So many dreams, and perhaps that's what I'm feeling today. The subtle haze of that sleep world is more immediate than my reality. And with the rain droplets decorating the tree outside my window and smoke billowing from the chimney across the street, I think I'm content with that.
For you all, I've included an excerpt from an old friend's e-mail. Something that sounded beautiful to me, a bit sad, more haunting as it reminded me that life is simply a collection of moments. When we look back, more than stories, we remember moments and the people who shared them with us. Some that defined us and changed our lives, others with little significance to anyone else, but that have stayed in our hearts long after they passed. It is these moments, it seems, that make up our tapestries.
"You said everyone has a beautiful story...maybe....maybe some people's stories are more beautiful to some people than others..."
"They come into your life and leave and some you remember on certain occasions and are shocked you knew someone so surprisingly unique...that they knew you....that you shared such luminous moments that are now all but forgotten save for late night memories."
"I wrote once looking at the stars, the sunrise, or out on some hike, what could one hope to accomplish that could compare to these experiences? And in that struggle to do something really 'worthwhile' how many sunrises will I miss..."
"It was raining you remember, then one time it was snowing...there was a bench and trees, then there was yellow light and an iron railing. I think perhaps kicking the soccer ball or that rainy night with that bench.....those are like sunrises."
"But my greatest accomplishments will be those peoples' beautiful stories..."
"Though gone they sustain me, they are the me I meet from time to time and recognize warmly..."