Ponderings
Sometimes when I'm all alone in my head to ponder life and my role in it my mind wanders back to ExOfNote and the wonderful times we had together. Tonight was no exception. Often I'm able to forget him, or at least not think of how much he meant — no means — to me. Tonight I wasn't so lucky.
I was sitting in a religion class listening to the teacher talk about how wonderful it is to be married, etc. I generally hate these lessons, the reasons I'm sure you can infer from previous posts. As I sat there listening thinking about nothing in particular a comment made by a class member reminded me of the only time ExOfNote and I ever prayed together.
It was an amazingly tender moment. I don't remember what was the motivation behind it, I'm sure it was one of the many times when we were discussing the possibility of marriage. He said to me, "I think we should pray together. Would you pray with me?" What a sweet moment that was! Prayer is (and rightfully should be) a sacred and precious experience for those engaging in it. I'm not talking about public praying, you know, blessing the food before the Thanksgiving feast, I'm talking about those moments when one steps away from the world, and gets down on their knees and really communes with God. That was the kind of prayer he wanted to share with me, and in that moment, I knew it was the kind I wanted to share with him. I was so touched that I wanted to start weeping at the symbolism of what he was asking me to do. Never before, nor since, have I shared such a precious experience with another human being.
It was at night, and since he was staying at my Grandparents' home while visiting my family, everyone in the house was sleeping. Nevertheless, we stepped out onto their porch, and sat on the edge of some chairs they had out there. He took my hands in his, and bowed his head in humility and began to pray. I don't remember what he said, but I do remember when he asked me, ever so softly, "Granola, is there anything you'd like to say?" "Yes." and then I, too, began my own pleading with our Father in Heaven. I finished, and assumed it was the conclusion, so I said my amens. I was wrong, for ExOfNote took up where I left off, and continued to talk to the Lord. He finished, and said his amens. Then, we just sat there, our hands clasped in each other's each listening to our own heart beat, and feeling whatever it was we were both feeling. I remember the tears that rolled down my cheeks unchecked as my heart brimmed with the love I felt for him. After a time we slipped into a deep hug. It seemed I couldn't get close enough to him. All I wanted to do was hug him, and hold him, and sob into his chest.
It's memories like these that make me wonder if there ever will be another soul who can complete mine so fully. Will I ever find a man who loves me as deeply and helps me want to be a better person than I am? I don't know, but I can hope, can't I?
I was sitting in a religion class listening to the teacher talk about how wonderful it is to be married, etc. I generally hate these lessons, the reasons I'm sure you can infer from previous posts. As I sat there listening thinking about nothing in particular a comment made by a class member reminded me of the only time ExOfNote and I ever prayed together.
It was an amazingly tender moment. I don't remember what was the motivation behind it, I'm sure it was one of the many times when we were discussing the possibility of marriage. He said to me, "I think we should pray together. Would you pray with me?" What a sweet moment that was! Prayer is (and rightfully should be) a sacred and precious experience for those engaging in it. I'm not talking about public praying, you know, blessing the food before the Thanksgiving feast, I'm talking about those moments when one steps away from the world, and gets down on their knees and really communes with God. That was the kind of prayer he wanted to share with me, and in that moment, I knew it was the kind I wanted to share with him. I was so touched that I wanted to start weeping at the symbolism of what he was asking me to do. Never before, nor since, have I shared such a precious experience with another human being.
It was at night, and since he was staying at my Grandparents' home while visiting my family, everyone in the house was sleeping. Nevertheless, we stepped out onto their porch, and sat on the edge of some chairs they had out there. He took my hands in his, and bowed his head in humility and began to pray. I don't remember what he said, but I do remember when he asked me, ever so softly, "Granola, is there anything you'd like to say?" "Yes." and then I, too, began my own pleading with our Father in Heaven. I finished, and assumed it was the conclusion, so I said my amens. I was wrong, for ExOfNote took up where I left off, and continued to talk to the Lord. He finished, and said his amens. Then, we just sat there, our hands clasped in each other's each listening to our own heart beat, and feeling whatever it was we were both feeling. I remember the tears that rolled down my cheeks unchecked as my heart brimmed with the love I felt for him. After a time we slipped into a deep hug. It seemed I couldn't get close enough to him. All I wanted to do was hug him, and hold him, and sob into his chest.
It's memories like these that make me wonder if there ever will be another soul who can complete mine so fully. Will I ever find a man who loves me as deeply and helps me want to be a better person than I am? I don't know, but I can hope, can't I?
posted by granola girl at 7:55 pm
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