Never Again

This past Thanksgiving was an avalanche of blessings. All my kids and grand kids around. Watching Eli become the idol of his younger boy cousins. Enjoying all the bows and bloomers and cuddles of my granddaughters. Bumping elbows with everyone in the kitchen. Getting to talk to my dad for a couple of days, instead of on all too brief phone visits. Going to bed tired and sore and full of contentment. This was certainly one of the Thanksgivings for the record books.

But this one is gone. Never to be lived again. We have pictures and we have stories to tell, we have the memories that will reside inside to be awakened at the least expected moment. But this moment will never be relived. It is likely that this group will never be reconvened in just this assortment again, with the ages of everyone locked in place, with the life circumstances putting thoughts in our heads or actions in our hands. The moment is gone like small puff of smoke on a breezy day.

I don't know why this has stuck with me all week. This is a truth that is ancient and new. I guess part of it is the reminder that this life is certainly a journey, short for some, longer for others, but a one-way journey. It is not a journey where we can retrace our steps. We can't move back down the path we have already traversed. I know there are moments when I would like nothing better than to camp at a certain point in my life, but the flow of life itself pulls me ever onward.

This journey is usually uphill. It has resting places with stunning views and reflection on the effort it took to get to that spot, but the journey is not finished. Watching my dad struggle at 90 with names and a hip that bothers him, it struck me that the journey also gets a steep at the end. Perhaps for him it is simply all the steps along the way that makes it hard to remember them all. On my journey it is holding two little girls Lola and Abby who have just begun their journey. They are riding on others shoulders right now, carried along until they can walk the journey themselves. While the grade seems mild for now, it will steepen as they get older.

So the backpack gets dusted off, the laces on the boots tightened a bit. Glancing around to make sure everyone is on their feet and moving out. But this was a nice rest stop, a place of jokes and caring and service and hugs. Perhaps the hugs were the best.

Godspeed to all the travelers, hope you enjoyed your moment of rest.
Don