Tuesday, February 8, 2022
Dear Harveys,
I’m holding you all so close in my heart. It’s impossible to summarize how often I was on the receiving end of her love and generosity and how fully she made the farm feel like my home.
Among one of the dozens of authors your mom introduced me to, Thich Nhat Hanh remains a favorite.
“Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tender, very sweet… wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine alone but a living continuation of my mother and my father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. These feet that I saw as ‘my’ feet were actually ‘our’ feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil.” Thich Nhat Hanh, No Death, No Fear
I will miss your mom so much. But I will see her in apple trees and roses, goldfinches and swallows, in berry pies and flannel sheets, in books that slow me down and tv shows that make me laugh. And most of all I will see her in all of you individually (and so collectively that I wouldn’t know how to parse) - your kindness and hospitality, your cleverness and stubbornness, your twinkles and giggles, your strength and fire and generosity. I will cherish all of the unexpected memories and associations that rise up and bring me into her presence.
So much love,
Julie
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