my_window_seat: (Default)
My world is dust now,
And all I loved is dead.
Oh, let me trust now
In what my master said:
"There is a sweetness in every woe."
It must be so. It must be so.

The dawn will find me
Alone in some strange land.
But men are kindly;
They'll give a helping hand.
So said my master, and he must know.
It must be so. It must be so.


`Candide`

::sigh::

The one thing that's sometimes a little hard to take about my Musical Theatre class -

It constantly reminds me of Stewart.

I keep hearing lyrics in my head in a tenor voice that no one will ever hear again.

What is hardest to accept about the passage of time is that the people who once mattered the most to us are wrapped up in parentheses. - John Irving -

I have no original thoughts tonight. Just memories and quotations.

::sigh::
my_window_seat: (Moi)
Jesus.

It's been almost two years to the day. Tomorrow to be exact, but it's strange in its own way that I happened to think of it just now. Two years tomorrow since I came home from work, opened up the mailbox, found a letter from my grandmother.

Or rather, a brief note, and a newspaper clipping.

It's been a decade and more since Stewart and I first met. Less two years from that since we split up. Just two years now since he went to that big rehearsal hall in the sky.

And about 1 year since I had - a visit, I guess you could call it.

When I came home tonight I lit some incense, and it was that, among other things, that brought him to mind. Nag Champa. It always smells like - home, to me. Smells can conjure up such specific memories and images. Especially when they are so strongly associated with a time, a place, a person.

Found a - well, I guess it's a little long to call a scrap, but anyway, another memory from the archives. From just about a year ago, give or take a week.

You always have to wonder, don't you?

I do, anyway.

A Season, A Memory, A Ghost, and a Goodbye )

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