I Wasn’t Ready

 

I Wasn’t Ready

It started five days ago with headlights.  Our oldest son Jacob and his family, who now live in Colorado, were on their way “home” for a quick visit.  My wife Michelle and I got a little more excited with every text message update on the progress of their long drive.  “They’re in Nebraska already.  They must have gotten an early start.”  I knew that they would be on the road before 4:00 AM.  We have made the drive a couple of times and I knew that Jake would want to leave early enough to be able to get to our house before it was too late. 

It's funny that the distance matters so much when it’s being closed.  They moved out west a number of years ago – it’s enough that I’ve lost track.  Reality has a way of forcing you to accept how things are.  Technology helps tremendously.  We can video call each other on special holidays and share a laugh and a smile.  Still, there is no denying that the two little girls who moved away from us who now have summer jobs and driver’s licenses and their own life plans forming are growing up way too fast.  So, these times when we can really be physically together are incredibly precious. 

When we got the update at supper time that they were already through Madison the waiting got real.  It wouldn’t be long now.  It was a few minutes before 9:00 PM when I saw the headlights in the driveway.  “They’re here,” I said as I was already getting up out of my chair.  Michelle and I were out the front door in a rush.  In seconds we leapt into ‘finally-together-again’ hugs.

We knew at the outset that the visit would be short.  We made the most of it.  Since they stayed with us we shared morning coffee and catch-up conversations.  All four of our children and their spouses and at least some of the 11 grandchildren all together for a meal that first full day.  There is no happier place to be than a house full of love and laughter and a sense of family being together.    

The reason for the visit was that Hannah, eldest daughter of Nathan, son number two, was graduating from high school.  When we were all together celebrating that event yesterday, Nathan told the story of when Hannah was about four-years-old.  He had taken her to a park that had a firemen’s pole in the playground.  Hannah didn’t hesitate climbing up the stairs to the platform, but no amount of coaxing could get her to slide down the pole.  Nathan recalled how much he tried to reassure her with, “I got you – go ahead – I got you.”  Now, she has a diploma in one hand and an out-of-state college acceptance letter in the other.  And now, she’s in a hurry to slide and he’s the one who isn’t ready.         

As I am writing this, the sky is beginning to blue.  I’m not surprised to be watching it as I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.  We were up early in the dark as the visit was over and now it was time for the hard part.  Coolers and suitcases and blankets for the girls to wrap up in all came down the stairs and out the door and packed in the car.  It was time for difficult big hugs that hurt and exchanges of hearts. I watched as the headlights snapped on and shined down the driveway.  The red taillights, which seemed so bright at first, disappeared into the dark all too quickly.  I stood there for another minute or so, staring into the darkness.  I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t ready.

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan

Photo by Darion Prioleau on Unsplash

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