The burning of the iconic Notre Dame Cathedral made for a very sad day. When I saw the spire topple, my breath stopped. My sadness was the same I feel when anything beautiful is broken, defaced, or left to ruin. I think of the people – two centuries worth – whose entire lives were devoted to building that church. The history, the marriages, the funerals, the comfort, the inspiration that came to take place in that building. Very sad indeed.
But then, as I watch millions of dollars being pledged and donated to its rebuilding, I wonder. The same people who are donating could give money to alleviate hunger and homelessness. How did they, or the church for that matter, have so much money to spend in such a manner? Questions to ponder. Humankind and human history are not always a pretty picture when examined closely. We do not always live up to the beauty of our art.
Step by step I have finished the final pieces of my estate planning. The i’s are dotted and the t’s are crossed. Now I need to finish cleaning out my mother’s house and my sister’s storage units, and then sell the house. Maybe when all that is done, I can look through the remaining letters and multitudes of albums. Mother was a prolific picture taker. Her albums are all well organized, labeled, and done by the year. Nothing like that exists in my collection of albums. She did not pass that trait on to me, though I remember her saying I should write on the back of every picture, or I would forget. She was right. At the moment, those albums will have to wait. There is just too much left to be sorted. However, I see the light at the end of the tunnel and that’s a good feeling.