We are born and then we die. Somewhere in between we ‘live’. I would like to think I have ‘lived’ at least a good chunk of the 53 years I have been here. But in reality I sometimes choose a ‘half life’ when I could have an ‘abundant’ life. I love the word abundant, meaning marked by great plenty or amply supplied. It has a connotation of goodness and happiness, well at least for me.
So often in retrospect the path of life looks clearer and I wonder why I let my fear, disappointment, lack of confidence take hold of me, to limit the adventure, magic and wonder of my life.
Life is a gift but it doesn’t come with a handbook. Unfolding before us daily are a myriad of choices and experiences. What is so real is also so transient. Life literally falls through our fingers. We have no grasp, no way to hold it. Our memories fade over time until those living moments are lost deep in our mind’s subconsious, or the black hole of oblivian.
My grown daughter may say ‘Hey Mom, remember that time we….?’ ‘No?!’ A gripping panic rises in me as I realise some of the best times of life are slipping away. I need to write. I have to write, so I don’t ‘lose’ any more of me, any more of my life.
My mind goes back to a family trip to England, me, five kids in tow, two airplane trips, 24 hours of non-stop travel, a real adventure. I love to travel, especially with my kids and especially home to England. There are many good memories stashed away from those trips but a brilliant one, that shines brightly and stays vivid is the day we spent on the beach in Wales with the grandparents. It was an ordinary day really but somehow in an extraordinary way. The sky was blue and the sun shone warmly which led the sea to bekon us to paddle. We came to the beach with buckets and shovels to play in the sand and kites to catch the air. And fly kites we did. And walk the seashore to pick up shells, we did. To munch on sandwiches and crisps sitting in the sand dunes, we did. To laugh and relax and be at peace and at one with each other, we did.
Now words don’t capture the beauty of the day or how we felt. They do however, help sustain the memories. That day was a treasure, we all felt it, just a perfect day, a gift from nature to us and from us to one another. Time with the grand parents is always precious, we have so little. Time with one another was precious too we just didn’t realize it. We didn’t know what was coming. The separation, the heatache, the tears, the prayers, the patiently waiting, the faith, the hope that things would come right. We didn’t know, so we should always treasure up each day and the times with our loved ones. Perhaps the loss that came later made the memories of that day more beautiful, more treasured. Every time I return to that sandy beach I think of that day, I drift back, I am younger, my kids are younger, innocent, free. Its a dream but …One day maybe we will all go back to dig in the sand, fly kites, collect shells and paddle in the sea once more.