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Who was Cassandra?


  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.

MY SMALL PRESS


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November 09, 2010

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Beautiful post Beth, makes so much sense to me. With our son entering college next year we have been wondering if we should move out of Chennai which I consider is my home by right. I was born here, grew up in Chennai, moved away for a decade after marriage but came back to Chennai to be with parents and others. It's time to grow roots elsewhere, build a home probably in the beautiful and hospitable state of Gujarat or Rajasthan :)

Lovely, both the post & the photo illustrating it.

Yes, Beth, wonderfuly expressed feelings about a deep subject - 'home'. Coincidentally, I've just written a post about my father. But, unlike you, I have never been able to identify my roots and I wish I knew what that feels like. I don't mean necessarily genealogically but in a more earthy connection with place, with land. Could one invent roots?

A beautiful exploration of the homing instinct.
We saw your friends B. & J. on Saturday...it was a fantastic convention and the Bishop's closing announcement was a surprise but all who love him respect and accept the decision as a good and healthy one.
We are of course very pleased about the amazing J. becoming canon for Lay Leadership. She & I will be GC deputies again. It feels odd knowing that at GC 2012 we will be seeking and voting consent to our *next* bishop.
As we parted Saturday afternoon, I asked B. what was happening at their church the next day. He mentioned the Mozart Requiem and I confessed to a most un-Christian envy. How lovely that you were there to hear it! Their music program is simply splendid.

Hi Beth,
I have long long roots on Cape Cod and the family tree goes back to the Mayflower. And I feel conflicted about the place whenever I go there because it is hugely overbuilt and overpopulated with shopping malls and chain stores and McMansions overpowering the traditional Cape houses and small towns I love. We still own great grandmother's house and have just made plans to try to pass it on to someone in the family who is capable of restoring it. One great uncle has work in the Sandwich Glass Museum and my grandmother helped to start it. The historical society has a whole file on my eccentric family and has just published a collection of my great grandmother's postcard collection of the Cape.
NY State is gorgeous and I feel sad too when we drive through there, seeing how poor the economy is.
Roots are roots, on the Cape we say you have sand in your shoes if you're a native.

Wonderful post, Beth, that touches on so many of my own feelings of home and roots. As immigrants, those roots go back to Europe - even though we were children when taken to Canada, there is a certain pull back, at least to visit which is not often enough. We both grew up in Winnipeg, so it was the home of our youth, but left after graduation and marriage, eventually staying here in one neighbourhood in the Vancouver area. We both moved so much as children in Winnipeg, that we've done the opposite and stayed here for most of our adult life now. As we look ahead to the last phase of our life, we're hoping health and wealth will allow us to stay here, even if it means to move into a smaller place, for we feel this is home where our roots are deep.

We hope you and J will eventually feel those same deep roots growing for your new home in Montreal, you certainly have started in that direction. It seems to me that it is harder to emigrate when you are an adult than as a child, when I think of my parents, especially my mother who was always homesick for the old country.

Une nouvelle racine qui pousse timidement, dans un nouveau terreau d'amitié, "home" là où le coeur peut s'épanouir.

This is so vivid. Attachment to a physical home is also a container for such unassuagable longings for a metaphysical home, I think, that these are hard waters to navigate. Sounds like you are steering a steady course.

thanks for this post Beth.Your comment about your in-laws ashes going back to the Middle East made me think of our family.A few years ago when my mom died she had said she wanted her ashes buried in the family plot in Germany.My Dad,one of my daughters,myself and a nephew were at the grave side in a small town in northern Germany after for a short burial ceremony.i understood enough German to recognize "I lift up my eyes to the hills" Last November I was back there to visit my mom.My cousin and I came onto a church service by the cemetary honouring Germany's war dead.I stayed for the laying of wreathes after the service and saw the names of the dead.Hundreds for a town that was so small.The family plot has grandma and grandpa on the headstone as well as my mother and two of her sisters.Also there is my uncle with one word next to his which squirts icewater into my veins every time I see it.Stalingrad.Maybe that place felt like a home in a "deep down way" as you say and their rememberance was also mine and that would explain why when the wreathes were lowered on so many names it made my eyes sting

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