Blossoms in the Memory
This spring we missed the glory of the apple blossoms in La Cresent, Minnesota. Not that God did not
gift the area with great beauty and glory in this amazing experience this year. Only that we waited too long for our trip across the border, and the magnificent white flowering was already moving on in the stages of life; letting go of that short theatrical run that calls for immediate attention and waits for no one, especially those preoccupied with life’s myriad demands.
All was not lost, however, as we were treated with breath taking views of the Mississippi River in its spring green finery during our drive along the ridges of the Apple Blossom Scenic Trail. Another gift for me was reflecting on the treasure that God has given each of us in the function of the mind that we call memory. How was it that I could even know what awe-inspiring beauty I had missed among those apple orchards? Returning to me in my mind’s eye was that vision of blossoming apple trees experienced over the years and most recently of one glorified tree in the back yard that made my heart sing of the beauty and wonder of God’s creation. How wonderful that I do not live only in the happenings of the moment or even in the happenings of this day. My life is enriched by all I hold in that wonderhouse of storage - my memory. The experiences, the places, the people that have come and gone and have never really left as I hold them in my heart through the blessing of memory.
To celebrate and treasure this gift, I paused to find my Pocket Book of Verse and enjoyed once again one of my favorite poems by William Wordsworth. I share it here with you and invite you to sit in the wonder that this poem celebrates.
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -and gazed- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
This valuing and celebration of all that memory means and brings to my life is enhanced as I witness the effects of the many forms of dementia and especially Alzheimers that afflicts the elderly that I serve in my ministry of pastoral care. The world view changes and functioning levels become limited as this gift of the mind recedes. What delight is experienced by family and friends as they hold onto the memory that remains in which they can know fully for a moment the person they hold close within the heart.
Will you take time this day, this week, to reflect on your “inward eye” and all that it contributes to the fullness of your life. Pause to see what brings pleasure to your heart and what memories will set your heart to dancing with delights as Wordsworth experienced. We do have so much for which to give thanks and praise to our God in the ordinary gifts of these ordinary days. Enjoy your dance!
"Blossoms in the Memory:" Marguerite Samz, OSM.
Graphic of the dancer: "Woman Song II."