The passage of time, that is. I could hardly sleep last night. Thinking about my grandparents. That house. Their move. A new beginning for them, and the end of an era for me. 32 years of memories. Overnight stays. Thanksgivings. Christmastime. The familiar smell. Walking up to the porch and the sound of the doorbell. When Bob and I used to visit before kids. Bringing our children, their great-grandchildren there and digging out the old toys I used to play with. The way the bathroom light glows in the hallway during night. Tumbling around in their huge backyard. Dinners at a table that is always covered with a cloth. How it always seemed so warm and inviting to me. It had predictability I longed for in an indescribable way that my home did not after my parents divorced.
I am sad. I wish things could last forever. I wish change wasn't relentlessly constant. I am reminded to take hold of the present. I waste time. Too much time. I forget how fleeting it is. I forget that it is moment by moment escaping, to never return. Even the wealthiest, most powerful people cannot harness it. A faithful reminder we are not in control.
A lifetime is formed day upon day. Each one important. None guaranteed.
Psalm 118:24
This is the day the LORD has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it.
I will remember to rejoice in this day and not take for granted precious, precious time.
2 comments:
you turned back on the comments... yippee!! i really like this post tisha and it brings back memories for me of my granny's place. i hope your grandparent's move went well and that they are happy in their new home.
Thanks Sandy!
Actually, I turned the comments back on by mistake when I was messing with the settings, you know how tech-savy I am! Left it anyway, hoping over time people might feel more comfortable to comment. I love reading them.
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