How shall I speak when you leave me so nearly speechless? I walk to the window and watch the darkness come, then return to read your words once more.
Leah, you ask if I have moved toward a situation that feels like home. Until I came here two days ago I had not. Now I have. The welcome you all have given me is the ground beneath my feet and a home to me now.
I am so very glad to meet you Sally. Thank you for your kind words of comfort and encouragement. And Thomas, you could not feel more discombobulated than I! But I am glad you feel as you do. You are right. Thank you everyone. Has a mourner ever been so generously comforted?
In three short days you have taught me something about my love I did not know.
I love the body and soul of the Conversation. To me it is the beginning and the end of everything. For many years I thought that my husband and I in our house were alone in that love.
Then slowly others came to share our Conversation, and others more, and they became my world. But they were very few, and they required everything to enter into its spirit. They could not do without the land, the woods, the night and the fire.
Now I see that the Conversation was enclosed only on one side by the house and the woods. On the other side it is as open as the sky.
I never dreamed there were people like you who hunger in earnest for the Conversation as I have always done. People who have eyes to see and ears to hear, who do not need more than I now have to give.
I did not know why I chose out that quotation from Emerson to stand watch over our days together. Somehow it seemed right. A spirit, a house, a world, a heaven.
Now I know why. I had my house and left it. I had my world and lost it. You are the heaven that my spirit went seeking.
Tomorrow morning I want to begin the grateful work of answering you each individually.
Good night and thank you all!