Sunday, July 5, 2009

Catching the Bouquet of Rain-Soaked Roses

Time is a unit of measurement whose precise composition has always been a bit of a mystery to me. But throughout the course of my four-plus decades here on the big blue marble, it has appeared to me that one thing is constant about time. Whether passing quickly or hardly seeming to move at all, it is always moving forward. Its forward movement is relentless. And it is both determined and deliberate.

Our lives are lived in but one direction - forward. Attempting to travel backwards in time - in an effort to find ourselves affixed to a moment in our life's journey where it all made sense (whatever "it" is) is a fool's errand. It is not how the race is meant to be run and the damage wrought upon ourselves and those around us is analogous to that wrought upon our vehicle if we choose to ignore the "DO NOT BACK UP - MAY CAUSE SEVERE TIRE DAMAGE" sign in the parking lot.

The day has dawned on the end of Rob's most recent Eastern adventure. It did my heart some good last night to see how he spent his final night NTSG ('neath the snow globe), which was in the company of a number of his friends hosting a July 4th BBQ. Margaret, Joe and me spent a significant portion of our late afternoon/early evening mixing with the assembled guests - manning the grill and restocking of all the "necessaries" (chips, dip, potato salad, hot dog buns and beer). The party lasted long into the evening - hours after Joe had gone home to the sanctity of his own little fortress against the world and a while after the Missus and me retired upstairs to bed. The sounds of laughter, music, spirited conversation and (until the police popped in to say "hello") the occasional celebratory firework filled our backyard late into the night - and quite possibly into the wee small hours of this morning.

And it was good to see him doing a lot of smiling and it was even better to hear him doing a lot of laughing. It was as if the gathering of his closest friends in the backyard of the home in which he grew up reminded him of the possible reward of showing just a bit of faith in a night's magic. For one evening at least, happiness was not only pursued, it was caught.

A cause for celebration indeed.


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