an email exchange...

-----Original Message-----
From: tatkins <tatkins@u.washington.edu>
To: Elizabeth Hutchinson <hutch.ec@gmail.com>; emily huff <emilyjasonhuff@aol.com>
Sent: Wed, Aug 20, 2014 10:29 pm
Subject: the oats have become granola...

and we are heading to bed.

thankful for:

deep, meaningful, hilarious, life-giving relationships

years to grow internally and with companions alongside

watching and waiting as friends boomerang out and come back, to and from places 
like malawi and india--the hopeful anticipation of experiences worth waiting 
for, hearing about the vastness of the world and appreciating the gifts that you 
are bringing to others from our little corner of it, and the anticipation of 
knowing that when it's the right time, you will be coming home to roost and 
share all you have seen, heard, done and experienced.

godspeed, dear friends--one for the short term, and one for the long term...

can't wait to be all together again.
elizabeth, we will miss you 4 sorely.

much love,
t

Tamara Z. Atkins, MD
Family Practice
UW Neighborhood Clinics, Shoreline
1355 N 205th Street, Shoreline, WA 98155
206-542-5656

-----Original Message-----
From: Emily Huff <emilyjasonhuff@aol.com>
To: tatkins <tatkins@u.washington.edu>
Sent: Thu, Aug 21, 2014 12:00 am
Subject: Re: the oats have become granola...

giving thanks for such rich community... and even for the extreme ache in my heart tonight as it is a manifestation of the depth of our friendships.... and for the fact that Anna and I had such a sweet and deep conversation about friendship and love as I was putting her to bed... We talked about the Little Prince and about his relationship with his rose. If you don't remember, here is an exchange about it: 

“The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You're not at all like my rose," he said.
"As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one.
You're like my fox when I first knew him.
He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But I have made a friend, and now he's unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.
"You're beautiful, but you're empty," he went on. "One could not die for you.
To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you
–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she's more important
than all the hundreds of you other roses:
because it is she that I have watered;
because it is she that I have put under the glass globe;
because it is for her that I've killed the caterpillars
(except the two or three we saved to become butterflies);
because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled,
or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing.
Because she is MY rose.” 
― Antoine de St. Exupery


You all are my roses and I am so very very grateful for the garden we have tilled together in our friendships. 

Much love, 

Emily