Zelda and a Zenith Moment

Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
―    Zelda Fitzgerald

I’m late to a very important date with Z.  It’s been difficult because I wanted to do something nice with Z.  It’s such an underrated letter, yet it endures its position at the end of the alphabet with a quite elegance, waiting, knowing it will be the last letter heard.  It will be the enigma of alphabet and word challenges.  Z knows it's not like the other letters.  It doesn't even try. 

I think one of the reasons I was having trouble with Z was I was relating too much to it.   This past weekend was Jazz Festival in New Orleans. All my friends seemed to be going but nobody asked me. In the past we always went, but as people get married, start dating, they want to go with spouses or significant others, or they have to stay home with kids. It's not their fault. It's just what it is. Not only did nobody ask me to go with them I had to work Saturday and Sunday, resulting in me going to work 12 days in a row. Then, a coworker asked me what was I waiting for when I said I wasn't worried about getting married, like something was wrong with me.  (I loathe that question!)

Feel sorry for me? Don't. I only felt sorry for as long as it took to think about it. My Zenith moment was this: I'm not waiting for anything.  And as I took in a play and dinner out, I realized people think wrong.  I'm not alone. People miss out getting to spend time with me. I felt sorry for them as I had a lot of fun talking to strangers, peeking in a Hot L in Baltimore, and enjoying a tuna steak presented to me by a really cute waiter. (young men serving me seem to be a weakness of mine.)

I don't want to live. I want to love first and live incidentally.--Zelda F.



I love this of ZSF.  She looks confident and ready.

Another Zenith with Z was finding—again—Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. For those who don’t know she was a writer in the early 1900’s and wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I know we’d read of her in class, but only in passing, a mention of the “crazy wife of F. Scott.  On now to The Great Gatsby and The Sun Also Rises.”
Wait, slow down! I want to know more.  I feel cheated.  So, I’ve found this new novel about Zelda.  It’s called Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.   I’m excited to start it.  I’ve been scanning articles about her and wonder why in school we didn’t get to learn more about such an interesting woman who obviously influenced one who’s considered a significant author of the 20^th century.  I say obviously because how could she not?
Like the letter that begins her name, Zelda seems to have been delegated to the end, waiting with a quiet elegance…how horrible would she find this!  A woman who lived to love and loved to live. 

I hate a room without an open suitcase...it all seems so permanent.--Zelda F.

Others find Z to be useless, difficult, or elusive, but that's only because Z's a strong letter that intimidates others with it's confidence and uniqueness.   The letter Z for me has been a letter of discovery, of encouragement. Z came just when I needed it.  Z is my reward for being patient and hanging in to the end.  Z is meeting new people and rediscovering old.

She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring--Zelda F.

Z is at the end because it's the best saved for last and challenges me to make this not an ending but a new beginning...