Waves of Rye

untitled by Sarah Seager

My apologies to everyone for the lack of posting this last weekend, sometimes actions occur where words are meant to be silent. Being Monday, all faculties have returned, so here we go.

Age brings a softness to life, a willingness to accept that from the past which may have been tumultuous or painful between colleges, family, and friends. Old enemies from years before can meet on the very battle fields where conflicts were acted out, but with a warmth and kindness that extends beyond the harsh violence of words or actions, to a recognition of the ability for each to have survived a unique experience and not found devastation. To know that through change and adaptation, warriors have discovered new purpose and value that demonstrates the fine grain of their souls, allows even the harshest of critics to feel a fondness for those that they may have condemned.

There is so much that is missed while in the throes of battle, the tiniest of details and perspective that each participant experienced, but only in fallow later moments began to examine and understand. Small acts of charity that had been overlooked, kindness occurring behind closed doors that were never uttered or revealed until much later, a phone call that was answered late at night to listen to another s troubles, make and made all the difference when revisited with years of hindsight and removal. In the afterglow, clarity is found, solace taken, hope affirmed.

In 1938, on the 75th anniversary of the battle at Gettysburg, veterans gathered to tell their stories, to share memories of that fateful day in history. Men who at one time fought and killed the others peers, stood side by side and shook each others hands, laughing and smiling. Most were at youngest in the their late 80’s, the others well into their 90’s, in-firmed with scars from a long life lived and survived through. Enemies in their youth, displaying differing ideologies and cultures that they each believed in, all things were set aside. Loses that occurred during that terrible 4 year period of the war were allowed to subside, a recognition that life is the battle to be won. No matter the trauma that at one time existed, a softness of years allowed for a fondness that another breath can be taken, a new sunrise witnessed, before passing beyond this veil of tears.




About Sarah Seager

I am an artist that works and lives in the wilds of Los Angeles.
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