Joining my aunt and uncle in a trip to Michigan, my dad and Judy decided to come a few days early to visit and hang out.  The Mister and I were both on vacation, so Dad suggested we think about maybe a day trip somewhere, since we had the time.  During a bout of insomnia, an idea crossed my mind, one that enticed me.  I dismissed the notion knowing how many times Dad and Judy had been there before and my assumption that they had no desire to return so soon, however, Dad called me later that same day saying, “feel free to say no, but I had this idea…” and suggested the very idea that had come to me at 4 am.  Let’s go home.  Together.  You can’t argue with an idea that comes together like that.  I don’t think The Mister nor Judy got much of a vote (although we did entice them with all the great food we could think of back home!)

Back home.  

Our trip, I hate to admit, was centered a lot around food.  There were some MUST eats, like chocolate long johns from Swiss Maid Bakery and an Italian beef sandwich from what was Beef Villa.  We also felt like a twist cone was mandatory from DQ and we stopped long enough to bring back Julie’s favorite deep-dish pizza.  We spent much of the rest of the time driving around, looking at all the places that were significant to my growing up.  We saw my elementary schools, middle school and much-renovated high school.  We drove by three houses my parents had lived in and I took pictures of the two that I had grown up in.  For the first time for all of us, we spent the night in a local hotel, something that seemed extremely odd given this was our hometown.  

Catching up doesn’t happen on social media.  It happens Wednesday night, at the summer band concert in the square, where the town gathers.  Within seconds of walking under the cobblestone entrance, Dad and Judy ran into people they knew.  The entire time we were there, they were talking and laughing with people they hadn’t seen in years.  We even saw a teenager we were certain belonged to a family we knew – generations of our life coming together.  

Finally, I was reminded that a grave site is just that.  Visiting the cemetery where Mom’s headstone is holds nothing for me.  It doesn’t remind me of her, it doesn’t make me miss her, it doesn’t even feel like her.  Walking along the town square, remembering the shop she and I bought my prom dress at, the place we used to come to pay the utility bills, the place we took family pictures after Julie’s wedding – those all remind me of my mom.  I had to stop and catch my breath at one point feeling like time stood still and I could have been ten years old all over again, looking around for her.  Short of the farm she grew up on, my home town feels like it is bursting with memories of my mom.  It is the place where she lived – the cemetery only marks the day she stopped calling Woodstock home.

I am so grateful for this trip.  I am so grateful that my dad was right beside me for it, reminding me of so many sweet memories.  I am also grateful for Judy and The Mister, as they not only tolerated this trip down Wilson-Memory-Lane, but they relished it alongside us.  

A fatal accident occurred this weekend at an intersection we drive through regularly.  It’s a back road, the straight shot from my home to my sister’s four miles away.  An 18 year old ran a stop sign and the 30 year old driver of a passing car died.  I drove by the site this evening and cried.  Not just for the man who lost his life (whom I don’t know) but for the child, the 18 year old whose life is forever changed from that instant in time.

I am not afraid to die.  I’m not afraid of what comes next.  I know my family would all be okay.  But I cannot for the life of me imagine what my life would be like if it had been James who had been struck, or Jacob.  I cannot begin to think of how I would even cope if one of them was taken so suddenly.  It doesn’t just take a car accident.  My dad reminded me just yesterday of a well-known family fact: one trip to the doctor can change your life forever.

I know James loves me deeply, I have no doubt.  And I don’t have one single regret or wish for our life to be any different than it is.  I wouldn’t mourn for all the things we never got to – we live our life as full as possible most every chance we get.  I would just miss him so.  I would miss him dreadfully so.

And Jacob.  I don’t see him very often now, and I don’t hear from him too often, either, but if he was gone forever?  Oh how my heart would break.  He is such an amazing person, I just want to see where his life takes him and all the happiness that surrounds him.

In the blink of an eye, it could be gone.  Life redefined.

This 30 year old man left behind a fiancee.  Her life redefined.  The 18 year old who ran the stop sign will never ever be the same, nor will the passenger that was in the car with him/her.

I am so grateful that was not my James, nor my Jacob.  But my heart and soul aches for those affected by this one instant in time that went horribly wrong.

The past week was a bit stressful.  My last full week of school, complete with day-long meetings, field trips and assessments, and the ever-changing plans of out-of-state company made things more frantic around here than normal.  Friday afternoon, our company arrived and within a couple hours we were enjoying the deck, take-out pizza, wine and each other’s company.  Saturday brought a trip north to see James’ folks along with his brother and sister.  The frenetic pace of getting everyone accommodated for, snacks packed, plans made and finally the drive itself was tempered by a day of sitting on their screen porch with a beautiful summer breeze, laughing, talking and catching up.

In the midst of all the goings-on, I found myself sitting comfortably in a chair, watching a nearly 90 year old man tease his 87 year-old wife; a baby brother provoking his much-older sister; and an older brother try to remain stoically unemotional when surrounded by his loving family.

I could feel it with every heart beat, “Be Present”.  I need not think about the upcoming last few days of school, or the long drive home, or what health ailment might next prove overwhelming to James’ aging parents.  I need only to be.here.now.  I took a breath and I watched, I listened, I laughed.

I saw my husband wink from across the room, something that always makes me smile.  I saw a sister, walking with her mom through the yard, ostensibly to look at the flowers, but as it had been two years since their last visit together, I knew it was a chance for a mom and a daughter to say anything that needed to be said – just in case.  I saw an elderly man who seems anything but on most occasions – a man who still mows his lawn, makes the traps for the gophers and invents devices to make watering easier on his back – laugh at the antics of the grown children.  I heard jokes, teasing, discussions about each person’s life and James’ never-ending quest to learn everything Henry has to offer.  Wisdom is always shared with humility in this house.  I heard a compliment from a master-of-everything to The Mister about his syrup making – a compliment that will never be forgotten, coming from the wisest man we know.

I heard it again in my soul, Be Present.

This trip was a reminder that time stops for no one.  It’s a thought that’s always near the front of my mind but watching it unfold reminded me of the preciousness of the moment.  We long-ago stopped taking our cell phones into his mom’s house.  Everything else can wait.  Beyond just feeling over-full from all the food they are intent on us eating, we leave with our souls feeling full; our hearts overflowing.  We always part knowing the next time is never promised to us.  We leave knowing their love abounds and everything else seems unnecessary.  We leave knowing, in every way we could, we wanted these people to know how much they matter to us and how much their love shapes our world.
I pray we have many, many more such visits, but if not, I pray that these beautiful people know without a doubt how much their very presence was a gift to us, each and every time.