A day

Here is what I want to say tomorrow.

Last autumn Mom told me that she felt privileged to have discovered, even so late, the value of a day, because many people go through life without ever having to think about it. We can't change the past, nor can we be sure about the future. The only thing we can hold onto is today.

It might seem like she was always good at enjoying the present, but actually I believe this was a difficult lesson. She loved us all so much that she was always planning things. I used to think that whenever we got together she spent most of the time figuring out our next visit. Mom didn't like goodbyes, and the last year was hard for her as chances increased that each farewell would be the last. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she learned to treasure every moment with people she loved, also the quiet beauty of Lake Fletcher and Poplar Bluff.

To always live in the present is impossible. We must make plans after all. And of course happy memories are part of our happiness now. But happy memories, for me anyway, are the times when I was fully engaged in what I was doing. To spend time every day absorbed in the good things around us, makes the journey a rich one indeed. To share this awareness with people we care about is possibly the fullest realization of love. It comforts me to know that during her illness, Mom took great pleasure in nature and her loved ones.

We can't help missing her or feeling sad sometimes, but Mom wouldn't want us to dwell too long on loss or regret. Let's take the opportunity, as much as we are able, to honour her wisdom by making the most of our time.

Another photo is posted in texture.