I don't know how to define the affection that I felt then and still feel for Mr. Dove who worked every week in my grandmother's yard and who had three fingers on one hand, for Fanny who cleaned our house twice a week, for Mr. Chavis my little league baseball coach, for Grandma my Texas grandmother, for Nanny my Columbia grandmother and close friend, for Mr. Myer across the street who spent hours talking with me about his inventions and about bows and arrows and animals, for Louise and Martha and James who worked in the back of the cleaners, for my dad who despite his foibles was a good and supportive and affectionate dad to me, and for my mom who was always there. Most of these people are gone. I feel their absence more now than ever. As children this affection just happens, it just is , without our being so conscious of it perhaps until later, without our choosing it really. As we get older this kind of warm human affection still happens, but it's harder.
Life goes by so quickly now it seems.
Being more conscious of the desire we have for close relationships of this type we are in a hurry and impatient with the slow growth required for this kind of affection to bud, and we give up on relationships too quickly. People come and go from our lives before this kind of affection has time to take root. We feel disconnected. Loneliness is an increasing reality. Many of us are separated from those special places for which we have and have had special affection, places which may be connected to those special people.