Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today not to mourn the loss of
Clio's nap, but to celebrate it. Because that's what the nap would have
wanted us to do. It would not have wanted us to dwell on its absence
with weeping and lamention, although certainly that is a natural
reaction to a loss of something so, so, SO dear to us. Excuse me --
sorry, I just need a minute, I'm fine, really -- does anyone have a
tissue? Thank you.
As I was saying, this nap had a long, happy life -- longer than many
afternoon naps. So let's remember the good times we had while it was
with us -- all the things that the nap brought into our lives: time to
write or relax or catch up on email; time to recover our energy and
patience after a hectic morning; time to nap ourselves. And let us not
forget the powerful sense of hope that the nap brought us. For even on
the days when we were up far too early, and the morning was far too
exhausting, and everyone was in far, far too crappy a mood, we could
always draw strength from the knowledge that soon, very soon, we'd get
a break. The nap would not let us down. Almost never, anyway.
Read More...
