(Keeping up here with the book discussion?!) Here is Laila's dad talking. Kabul is the city in Afghanistan that they live in.
"All day, this poem about Kabul has been bouncing around in my head. Saib-e-Tabrizi wrote it back in the seventeenth century, I think. I used to know the whole poem, but all I can remember now is two lines:
'One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs,
Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.'
Laila looked up, saw he was weeping. She put an arm around his waist..."
I think one could imagine arguing that Tempe has a thousand suns. But would I call them splendid? I've been thinking about this a lot lately, especially since we're in the most beautiful time of the year to live in Tempe. Well, one of them anyway. Early spring is fantastic as well. But back to the thousand splendid suns... June, July, August, September, (even) October... I don't know that I'd call that sun splendid. I'm a grouch when it comes to the heat, the temperature, and the sweat. Yuck.
Actually, I just did the math. In my 37 years on earth, in Tempe (or thereabout), I've seen 13 thousand splendid suns. Whooshta! That's a lot of sun. I think I'm going to pass out just thinking about it.
But here's my thought for this quote: what's 13 thousand miserably hot suns, compared to a handful of really good friends? I've always had friends and loved ones where I live, but not like I do now. Last summer I was ready to leave this blasted inferno. I had a brief glimmer of hope baited to me by my husband that there was some off chance that we would move. Move anywhere. Anywhere out of this place that I've spent my entire life trying to get out of. Now we're almost to that point in life (the one where Bill is done with school, I don't have a job, and Billy is all growed up) that we could up and move without too much to lose. But I'm not in an all fired hurry to move anymore. I would be really, really, miserably sad without the almost daily contact of different friends. The people I see once a week, and even once a year... I'd miss you. Am I getting sentimental in my old age? If I could cry, I would. So my challenge, dear friends (new and old), is to get me through this upcoming summer without an urge to flee the state. Either that, or come help me pack some boxes. You pick, I don't want that responsibility.
3 comments:
Hmm. So deep. I'm not going to help you pick or anything (after all, you will do what you want to, right? :)) but moving isn't all that bad. Having moved 2 times in 2 years was hard and I hope to not move for awhile now. That said, because I have moved I have met even more friends. Some will stay in my handful of good ones to keep up with, others just brightened my life for that season.
And on the flip side, because I've moved and met new and different people, I will be counted among new handfuls of friends or I will be the one that has brightened someone else's life for a season. You just never know if you are the giver or receiver!
So, I don't really have a point. Just embrace the circumstances your in, no matter how they change!
Helena, I feel exactly the same way. Let's get each other through the summer, shall we?
Amanda, I agree with everything you said, so I guess you did have a point. I'm just not in a hurry to go anyplace anymore. I'll just stick around here and wait for people like you to come and go and be happy about meeting you! I keep many friends that have moved close to my heart, and treasure any moment in time I have to see/hear from them. I'm a pretty low-maintenance long-distance friend that way. So call when you cruise into town and need a floor to sleep on!
Sara, you bet! I'll drive to Utah with you too... all 5 kids squawking at each other... nevermind.
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