Last night, we visited an old friend that we had not seen for decades. Mads had completed a commission piece of artwork, and we wanted to hand-deliver it. Our friend looked wonderful, and I felt energized by reconnecting with him after so much time passing between us. To be fair, he is Amy’s friend, but social media has a way of bringing people of acquaintance together in a stronger way. I know you get this; we’ve all experienced it.
As we were leaving and sharing a final chat about the old days, we stood outside his house as he stuffed fresh tobacco into an old pipe, lighting it frequently against the bitter temperatures and sometimes-swift breezes that would pass through us. On the table next to the storm door was an old green jar filled with tobacco, surrounded by spilled shredded leaves, a dark-brown bed that looked more like earthen snow around an old wishing well. Its lid was askew, a cocky fedora complimenting its host as if he were leaning against the back entrance of a speakeasy, nodding to those who dared to enter.
The gathering has remained with me throughout the day, and I’m pretty sure it’s because every aspect of the visit was authentic: the aroma of a fresh-made meal (the anchovies make it, his housemate says), the heat of an old wood stove, and the scent of residual smoke from the smoldering pipe filled with last night’s leaves.
But in the end, what sticks with me most is that we got together at all, encouraged to meet over a work of art that warmed the hearts of so many.
I’m finding that, as we get older, these intentional meetings — even if they are but for a few minutes — matter. Maybe it’s because we’ve been through so much by this stage in our lives; maybe it has something to do with our generation still remembering what it means to be unplugged, and we can connect to those moments where personal relationships, even in those happenstance one-on-ones that turn out to be real life-changers, are still at the core of what it means to be neighbors, friends, members of the human race.
And for those younger than we might be, you are still discovering the beauty of authentic conversation, moments spent away from the digital world, even in a touch, a lingering catch of each other’s eyes, a simple smile that tells us all we ever wanted to know: That we are loved, that we are appreciated, that we matter.
The Deeper Stories
Our gift drive for the children in Sinai Hospital is coming to a close, and we are in desperate need of some last-minute shoppers who want to make a real difference in these children’s lives.
If you are interested in donating a gift to the children who will be spending the holidays (and beyond) in the hospital, check out our 3rd Annual Gift Drive for the Sinai Hospital PICU. If you would prefer to make a donation, we will be shopping next week for the children and purchasing as much of the items as possible that are still on the list. You can PayPal your donation directly to us at Rusvw13@icloud.com.
As a small token of appreciation, I am making my anthology, Faith, Hope, and Legacy: A Christmas Collection, which features “Gretchie’s Gifts,” free to all who wish to download it.
If you are interested in the story behind our gift drive and “Gretchie’s Gifts,” you can read it here.
The Future Story
FOSSIL FIVE and THE JAR COLLECTIVE:
My latest novel, Fossil Five, will be released internationally on June 21, 2019, under The Jar Collective, a collaborative publishing house for the creative works of Jodi Cleghorn, Adam Byatt, and myself. Look for more information in January 2019 about the Collective and Fossil Five‘s release.
For now, you can follow the progress of publishing Fossil Five on these social media platforms, which will also be providing frequent updates on the upcoming book’s release:
The Evening Report with Rus VanWestervelt is a daily reflection that will be posted here at The Baltimore Writer between 8 and 11 p.m. each night. I encourage you to subscribe to my blog and be one of the first to read The Evening Report.