I want to encompass all the knowledge I can in my brief
What's span, Vin?
It's a bridge.
Mrs. Miniver 1942 William Wylar Director
Life reminds me of a swinging bridge. We begin on firm
ground, and as our life progresses, we experience the
sometimes thrilling, sometimes terrifying and sometimes
tranquil passage to the other side – our future.
As we traverse the fragile path that is our own,
personal swinging bridge, we find that some of the
boards along our journey are strong and firm, while
others are weak and fragile; still others may be broken
or even missing.
The ropes that we grasp to steady our passage are
sometimes strong, and at other times they are frayed,
causing us to be more cautious in our journey and at
times to walk alone.
On bright, sunny days, the journey is pleasant as we
revel in the surrounding beauty in which our bridge is
set, while on stormy days, the boards can be wet and
slippery and our path precarious as the bridge swings to
and fro, seeming to want to throw us from its fragile
deck to raging waters and rocky cliffs below. We hang on
with all of our might to the ropes and cables which
suspend our bridge, and strive to keep our footing and
reach our destination: the end of the bridge, a beacon
which calls us forward to safety.
This is the story of my swinging bridge, summed up in a
collection of poems, essays, writing exercises some of
you may recognize, short stories and excerpts from my
memoir Son of My Soul – The Adoption of Christopher.
Some have been fictionalized, but are taken from actual
events of my life as I walk to the end of the bridge –
to my destiny.
Lila Pilamaya – with many thanks