By Sonya Rehman
Is there a name for such a thing? To feel generations older, frayed and worn in, like your grandmother’s slippers, beckoning to well-wishers as if they are children to protect and nurture, is there a name for such a thing?
To feel as if you’ve traveled to each corner of God’s glorious earth, to wonder if there is still a place undiscovered, fresh eyes, fresh eyes – to want to view youthful joys with fresh eyes and a young heart. Is there a name for such a feeling?
To be wise, to be child-like, to be so radically practical, to channel your ancestors, to breathe them, live them, so old, yet so young, so grounded, so wing-clipped, so tight-lipped, so pragmatic, so parent-like, so stable.
Is there a name for such a thing?