More Putnam ruminations

The first time I visited Putnam was in the late 1970s, I think, when I went with Vaiva and her family to the opening or dedication of a new building for the convent. It's a pilgrimage to get there, an hour and a half drive from New Haven. I did not realize then the significance that the place would have for me.

A couple years later Vaiva and I attended a couple's retreat in Putnam, an overnight program for young Lithuanian newlyweds.

But the main contact with the place was the annual Lithuanian Day picnic, at which the Neringa campers would perform traditional Lithuanian folk dances. That would include our children. The Day would attract hundreds of people, a great many of our Lithuanian acquaintances. The grounds are always lovely, trees loom over the path to the outdoor stations of the cross like nature's own cathedral. I would always walk through the cemetery and visit the castle with the children.

I thought of all of this after I spoke with Fr. Zygas in Putnam on Saturday. There was a light drizzle, but still I walked the familiar paths again. And as I did, I felt Vaiva's spirit very strongly.

We talked about whether she should be buried in Putnam, so I could easily visit her grave. I decided against that path. Vilnius needs her more. She is present in Putnam even so.

I wept all the drive home.

Next day, as I was mowing, the following came up, randomly and appropriately, on my iPod:

I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
In that small cafe, the park across the way
The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well

I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the mornin' sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you