I’ll readily admit to being biased but this afternoon I watched an angel dressed in white toss flower petals on a white runner. She wore flowers in her hair and each time she tossed her petals a little more joy was spread around the room. Â A collection of family and friends witnessed this as did many who were strangers to us. More than a few of them stopped me to tell me about the how the angel I call the dark haired beauty stole their hearts along with mine.
Later on that little girl of mine would come take me by the hand and lead me on to the dance floor and while the rest of the guests ate she and I danced. She put one hand in mine, wrapped an arm around me and then lay her head against my stomach and together we swayed softly to the music. There was something soft and innocent about that moment that swept me away and I could only hope that she felt it too.
I looked at her and wondered what it might be like to have this father/daughter dance again many years down the road. Looked at her and wondered what sort of woman my little girl will grow into and smiled softly. A short time later I danced with my mother and listened as she told me that she couldn’t be old enough to have children who were in their forties.
“Mom, your daughter is the bride and there are 289 kids running around here, most of whom are your grandchildren,” I said. She just smiled at me and asked me to try to remember the moment.
Many hours later I sit here at the computer and remember the blur that was today and the week that was. It started with a funeral and a celebration of a life that was lived and finished with a celebration of life joined together. My children and their cousins are all old enough to remember this day. It felt good to see them alongside nieces and nephews and to know that they were experiencing something special.
The week, weekend and day were full of change and a lot of laughter and for that I am grateful. I needed those moments and that laughter to help gird myself for the battle that comes. I needed that time to remember what is important and to recharge my batteries because harder moments are coming. Soon there will be days that I wish not to remember and experiences that I wish not to record.
But such is the nature and way of life. We don’t have a choice about these things. Good, bad or indifferent the days come and all we can do is our best. I think that what is hardest for me is the unpredictability and uncertainty of these moments. Sometimes I would treasure and celebrate these things but not now.
I am ready for what is coming to arrive so that I can get it behind me and move on to the more important and pressing things. But at the same time I am grateful for what I have and the knowledge that the hard times have moments of beauty and grace. The story only ends when you give up. Until then each page waits for you to turn it so that you might write upon it.
The future calls to me and I must answer.