Paging EB White

Today was Lauren's pre-op day, filled with blood tests + medical interviews + an echocardiogram + waiting. (More on that in a bit.) If you have to be in a succession of waiting rooms, you could do worse than bringing along the Letters of EB White. The copy I have is satisfyingly tattered, a book that my parents gave to great-Grandma Brockbank in 1977 (the inscription is on the inside cover) and then later, meandering down through the line, it was given to me.

I'll admit I'm harboring a little long-held literary crush on Elwyn Brooks White. I can’t get enough of his New England wit and quick humor, his ease with sentiment and words. I knew he could write well, of course, but this open window to his personal friendships reveals much more of his warm soul and side glancing winks.

Back just two weeks after marrying his bride, Katherine, he sent her this poem*:

The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unwinds a thread of his devising; 
A thin, premeditated rig
To use in rising. 

And all the journey down through space, 
In cool descent, and loyal-hearted, 
He builds a ladder to the place
From which he started. 

Thus I, gone forth, as spiders do, 
In spider's web a truth discerning, 
Attach one silken strand to you
For my returning.

Oh, those silken strands. Lately (and abundantly) I have felt their tug.

When I was in DC for meetings last week I felt it, triggered by the universal law that the needs and happenings at home seem to escalate as soon as I leave town!  One trip to the doctor, one trip to get an xray (everyone's fine), sad events at school...all within 36 hours. G valiantly kept the clockwork ticking, homefires burning, and fort held down in my absence--although he had to go in to work at 5:30 on Saturday morning to do some catching up from all that parenting. He graciously quipped, "well it was my turn to take someone to the doctor at least once in their lifetime" (true that!) but still. Thank goodness for cell phones and text messages, those latter-day placeholders for actual connection & conversation.

Tomorrow's surgery will be another tug. Truly, I am confident she will be fine. All will be well. We're all chins up, keeping calm and carrying on around here. But right now all I can see is the impossibly delicate weight of those silken strands.

*Hello, early glimmers of Charlotte's Web! His granddaughter Martha later commented that Charlotte typified Katherine, through and through.

Comments

[sevensmiles]

Best wishes, Annie & Lauren. I'll be thinking of and praying for you.

(ps, Annie, E.B. White is a master--I love him too.
And I love the way you weave your words as well.)

[Christie]

You write so well, my friend. In whatever form you set your pen (or laptop keys) to. I love reading your words.

Good luck tomorrow! I wish sweet Miss L nothing but medical success! Prayers and hugs your way from your friends in Missouri!

[Liz]

That was very beautifully written. I'm sorry for all the crazy stuff going on in your world-especially the loss of Lauren's school friend. I couldn't even respond to the post-words somehow cannot express my sadness and heartache but just know I am thinking of that young man and all of you. Keep us posted on Lauren. Hope everything goes well. I think I am going to have to find these EB letters you speak of-they sound delightful.

[Linsey]

I always feel well-read until I visit Basic Joy. My "to read" list is chock full of Annie recommendations. This is a beautiful sentiment. I love the thought of love tugging on our very beings. Best of luck to you all tomorrow.

[andrea]

thanks for the peek into EB. your optimism is contagious, annie. thanks for spreading it.

[Michelle L.]

love to you and yours.

[Carolyn]

Oh, how heart-breaking, and how unanswerable, is the question "why?" I think this is a reminder that none of us knows what might be behind a pair of eyes, especially eyes that seem to shine just the right shine, when we assume that the mind and inner workings in back of those eyes is "as represented". Do we require too much from these young people? Do we encourage them to "look good" and not to reveal their true state of mind? Are they programmed from birth that to achieve and represent themselves as winners is the important thing? Who knew this young man well enough to know that there was a deep pain hidden behind all that glorious, golden sheen we might have required of him? Don't know. Never will, now. So, so sad. We are thinking of Lauren in the wake (?) of this tragedy. Love love love