Snow is falling at the moment on this quiet Friday afternoon, the day that marks Epiphany in the church calendar. In a few hours we’ll host the rehearsal dinner for my son and his bride-to-be for their wedding the following day. I’ve opened the pockets of his wedding suit, finished the last minute errands, and…
Well, I wrote that over a week ago, and now as I look out on more falling snow this Martin Luther King Day, it seems like time just folded up these last few days. The wedding and reception was a wonderful gathering of family and friends who witnessed vows, promised support, and then celebrated with a lovely meal and a dance floor filled with joy.
When I look back over the last three months, it’s been a while, again, since I’ve stilled myself and made time to sit and write. I remember being inspired one evening a month ago as I whistled into the wind for the dogs as they sauntered along the back property line, but nothing grew into words. I wrote some poetry during Advent, and perhaps there’s a bit more of that to come, but overall it feels like I’ve been living life instead of documenting it. That might be some comfort: after all, it’s good to live life, but have I been missing some of the small wonders of everyday life, caught up as I’ve been in big life movements? Weddings, packing up the last born for his move, a new grand baby, holidays: perhaps one way back to writing is to choose to sit with the dog when she asks, not just to follow her (now them) along the marsh walk.
Big life, little life. As I laid out my son’s suit to open those pockets, it felt like only days ago he lay on that table as I pushed him into a onesie. Two days later I knocked an announcement card off my bookcase. It was an invitation to celebrate a friend’s life after she’d passed away some years ago, but as I picked it up, I realized the date that day was the same as my friend’s birthday described there on the card. Yes, there is probably more than a 1 in 365 chance this could happen, but it was a small reminder of the ways we connect with others than sometimes seem outside time itself.
And now it’s more than time for another cup of tea, and to move away from the draft that’s coming through the shutters behind me. I hope that as we get deeper into this new year, we can take our time to travel it, one day at a time, giving thanks and remembering our connections.
from the smallest 