The last Lithuanian Picnic in Putnam

Yesterday was the "LAST (1946-2009) Lithuanian Friendship Day/Picnic organized by the “Lithuanian Sisters” on their convent grounds." There was some debate, an attempt to parse that language into something not quite so final, not so terrible. Maybe we can do it again next year if someone else organizes it?

I doubt it. I fear that once again the authorities in the Catholic Church may be planning to plunder another Lithuanian treasure in order to meet their ongoing legal expenses. Due to a shortage of younger nuns, they may try to close the convent. If the Lithuanian Community wants to avoid this outcome, they had best begin to mobilize promptly. There was already an attempt to force the sale of Camp Neringa last year, which thankfully was turned aside.

I have some photos of yesterday's festivities, but unfortunately my camera is not cooperating tonight. If I get it to work later, I'll post the photos then.

If you've read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, you'll recall that after several chapters of the protagonists traveling across country, they come to a new place, and the narrator thinks, somewhat out of the blue, "He was here. Phaedrus has been here." The book is a meditation on Phaedrus' own journey's, philosophical and otherwise, the quest to answer the question, "What is quality?" At least that's how I remember it.

That's the thought that hit me yesterday in Putnam, "She was here. Vaiva has been here." From attending the girls camp when it was held there to the many retreats to the Lithuanian Day picnics, she walked these grounds. What was she thinking about then, how did she see what I am looking at now? Perhaps this seems odd, given that I live in the house that we shared everyday, but there is something quite special about Putnam.

Really, I wish I had the photos to help illustrate my point. But the main thought was, she was supposed to be there. It just wasn't right without her.