Friday, December 18, 2015

We Shall Be Changed

I woke this morning in a groan as a woman in Edwardian dress with a little child stood at my door, two ghosts, dark and terrifying silhouettes. Wraiths.

This morning I am busy, getting ready to drive down to Orange County for a meeting. Before I go, though, I wanted to share this with you because it made me cry, the dream a faint hangover dispelled.


  1. Love to you, dear Elizabeth. May all ghosts be dispelled. May all hopes be fulfilled.

  2. Wow. WOW. (Listened to while sitting in my car waiting for Nordstrom to open, hereby disobeying my rule that states "I shall not step foot in a mall at ANY TIME during the month of December.) Thank you for this interlude!

  3. I can't listen to that without weeping--every year until last year, I sang the Messiah as the alto soloist, and my dear friend Joe sang "And the trumpet shall sound" and it was my favorite day of the year, for fourteen years. Sitting in my formal gown, the orchestra tuning, then the swell and rise of that aria--

    May your ghosts be dispelled.

  4. Saw this on my FB feed and thought of you, Elizabeth. I'm sure you've already seen it (or perhaps not?) but wanted to extend good thoughts and wishes.

  5. beautiful, elegant, moving. Ghosts be gone!



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