Weave the Web
Recording Family Legends for Generations to Come

Nancy's Letters to Haden: in response to Haden's Christmas letter of 2024
The Fire of Life
January 18, 2025
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Dear Haden,
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"Tis the New Year - 2025- where one's thoughts are compelled towards new beginnings; a door closing, and another one opening. Regrets washed away; hopes rekindled.
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I have always loved the metaphor, and your Xmas letter was rife with them: the forests, the Victorian ladies; the actors from autumn's Broadway musical.​
I have been fascinate by the rebuilding of Notre Dame - a true Phoenix rising from the ashes, and think this is an apt metaphor for bridging the old year with the new. I was in Paris in 2010. There's a picture of me standing in front of Notre Dame.
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When you go inside you cannot help but be awed by the space. Notre Dame was built over 800 years ago. Construction began in 1163, and it was completed in 1260. That means it took 97 years to construct the building. 97 years! Over time, the arches, flying buttresses and new stained glass windows were added while other parts were updated and re-constructed and repaired. The history of the construction is fascinating replete with Bishops and Kings, Master Builders and rioting Huguenots, works of art and relics.
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Ironically, in 2019, a fired, speculated to be linked to ongoing renovation work, consumed the cathedral in a matter of hours. Yet almost exactly five years later, Notre Dame stands in her old and new glory. Reading about the efforts to bring her back to life in five years is equally impressive as the daunting construction that began in the twelfth century.
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So one might say that Notre Dame is a metaphor for life: We rise, we fall, and then we rise again.​​​

But is it a metaphor for my life? Turning 80 and dealing with Loren's fall has made me fester a bit about old age. In your letter, you spoke about Bud who is 84 and recites the Night Before Christmas every year. This year he only had an audience of 25 because of the inclement weather, and you were hoping the weather next year would be better so that height have a more robust audience. When I read that, my mind hoped that Bud would be there next year and be able to recite the story like ha has been doing for so many years. Because, at 84, his time on this earth is numbered and every milestone might be his last.
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I'm in no way afraid of dying; I have a dread of living too long. But unlike Notre Dame, when I die, I can't be rebuilt. Here today; Gone tomorrow. Poof! If something happens to you, at the age of almost 50, youcan go into the repair shop and be re-built. At the age of 80, I have lived longer than 90% of the world's population could ever dream of. Knowing that time is running out really does make me appreciate little things. I love my hours community; I am so excited about coming to New York and being a part of Generation Women; I take such pleasure in having a latte with Loren in our town square on a sunny day.
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Your letter says how interesting that "joy is the child of loss." I love that phrase: Joy is the child of loss. I'm sort of saying the same thing- the loss of time brings joy. I know that I will not be "re-built." Nor do I want to be. I'm just so very grateful that I am here...for now!
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As I write this I realize that I am mixing my metaphors. Notre Dame is an inanimate object that can be reconstructed using all the available materials. Living things have a single life force that does not have a replacement part. So what might be a metaphor for my life and where I am in it? I have thought and thought: Water? The tide rolling in and then taking the grains of sand out into the ocean? The one that works best for me is Fire. In the beginning you need to kindle the fire to get a small flame. Then that flame starts to blaze, and it is fed by adventures and people and new ideas. Then it begins to smolder. It still gives out heat, and the embers are red. And finally, it goes out, leaving a residue of ash. Not Notre Dame for sure, but I'll take a blazing fire any day over the magnificence of a building.
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Now that I'm on a roll with this fire image, I think what Nicole has done for me by getting me on stage with the GenerationWomen is to stoke the flame. It's still burning and it makes me feel so ALIVE! Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "Do one thing everyday that scares you." I don't go out of my way to follow her advice, but Ido adhere to not being afraid to try new things. Curiosity is a very powerful attribute. You have it, and it has stoked your fire over the years and will continue to make your fire roar for a long time to come.
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I'm a little daunted by this letter writing. Have I said enough? Does it need to be longe? I think, before I mix up my methaphors, I will get this in the mail.
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Thank you for your wonderfulChristmas gift, and I look forward to more exchanges with you over the months to come.
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With love,​
Mom
