auld lang syne

 

Looking south and east over StAndrewsBay into a gray Friday morning, and my weather map showed a huge green mass moving our way from the west, so who knows.

Musing, no not even musing, just drifting over events of the week to TGIF. An indescribable relief and victorious in my mind, but not so in the minds of many for whom I care deeply, who are more important to me than my or they being correct politically. And my mind set: that when most of the people I care for don't agree with me, I have to pause and concede, as my theology professor told our class forty years ago, "Don't be so Certain: they may be right and we may be wrong". So, I love them and I work to make sure even irreconcilable differences do not divide us.

In fact, I was so happy to see and visit with some of them yesterday afternoon, dear old friends from years before all this, as we gathered to bury one of us: we are all getting older and all showing our age. I love all of you dearly and respect you deeply no matter what, and this comes with no exclamation point.

My prayer is that in the story that began Wednesday Noon, we may try to heal. It can't begin if either side is determined to pay back hate for hate. It doesn't begin directly though. It doesn't even begin with Wanting to heal. Maybe it will begin with a cup of kindness in which we drink to Wishing we Wanted to heal. 

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First verse: 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind? 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

and auld lang syne?

Chorus: 

For auld lang syne, my jo, 

for auld lang syne, 

we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, 

for auld lang syne.

Second verse: 

And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup! 

and surely I'll be mine! 

And we'll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet, 

for auld lang syne.

Chorus

Third verse: 

We twa hae run about the braes, 

and pou'd the gowans fine; 

But we've wander'd mony a weary fit, 

sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

Fourth verse: 

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn, 

frae morning sun till dine; 

But seas between us braid hae roar'd 

sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

Fifth verse: 

And there's a hand, 

my trusty fiere! 

and gie's a hand o' thine! 

And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught, 

for auld lang syne.

Robert Burns

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Maybe we can begin to heal by remembering our mamas' caution, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". I can't promise, but I'm going to make it my Resolution because I love you anyway. 

T+