I’ve taken my time to ponder this last event, partly because of circumstances, mostly because of jumbled thoughts.
The next day, after the wedding, there was a picnic luncheon, very informal. Someone asked me what my thoughts were… I went with the immediate, the first on the tip of my mind. I replied, “I once rode a roller coaster, I didn’t know that it would be the last time.”
Of course that isn’t an absolute fact. I’m still breathing and a roller coaster is available after a two hour drive. But because of time passing, and the cost/benefit analysis, I have determined not to ride roller coasters, I just didn’t noticed that the last time was the last time.
The list of potential “last time” things is getting larger. I don’t think about it much until just before something might happen. Most is based upon age and time, but the last child getting married is pretty much the last marriage. I least I hope so.
This was the longest “distance” wedding in our family, apart from a nephew’s in Panama and another nephew in Hawaii. Upper state NY, was not familiar to me, I know a little more now. I’ve been told that experiencing a winter there will give a fuller picture. I’m not sure I want a fuller picture. It was simply perfect in the summer.
I have lived back East during the winter. It’s not bad for the first few months, but then the “slush” months arrive and the spring seems so far away. My daughter and new son-in-law are staying there for awhile. Good for them!
I suppose the daughter’s bedroom can be neutralized, obviously they can stay there when visiting, but now the “individual” can be changed to “guest”. That will be a big change. Too soon?
Moving would solve most of these issues. But it would generate lots of stress, and lots of new problems. Better to recover a awhile. … I’m avoiding my thoughts.
The light is special. It has taken nearly eight minutes to get to this exact spot from 93 million miles away. It has fused with the earth’s magnetic fields, filtered through the atmosphere, and is hitting the leaves above our heads. The effect is called “dappling”, painters apply pigments in quick small daubs to give this effect.
I am bathed in daubs of dappled light when I hear a voice asking, “and who gives this bride?” I stumble my response, “her mother and I”.
How do we give what has been given to us?
In the same way that we have received, with love and grace.