pilgrimage to the monuments

The Lincoln monument is by far my favorite.  I say this without question - every time I visit (and recently, that has been a lot), I walk in, admire the statue, then head to the sides and read the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural.   In addition to making me realize that I will never write that well in my entire life -- or sum up a nation's feelings (while "binding up its wounds") about a war that had spent the last four years tearing it apart.

Of course, there are other parts that strike me, but the end is particularly stirring.
...let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
My own dear friend who has "borne the battle" -- or, rather: bearing -- and I spoke a few nights ago.  I was surprised -- a blip, and a message from across the world.  It was sweet to talk to him, though there is nothing that makes your heart ache so much as knowing they have to go.  I worry.  Perhaps I shouldn't -- I should pray, but I haven't yet.   Instead, I end up finding my way to the World War II monument.

fountain at the monument

It makes me contemplative.

I think of the plans that were hatched to move with all of our friends to Spain and own a restaurant there, and it is my one exception to my rule that I will never be a server (due to me being inherently klutzy, incidentally).  Somehow Spain will give me the grace I need to balance tapas plates and I will learn Spanish and this idea was proposed to me 2 years ago, and I still cannot wait for it.  It's not set in stone, but it's something to look forward to.


In the meantime, I make my pilgrimages.  I stop at the paratrooper bronze, and remember our day at the Getty, all sunshine and ocean breezes.   

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