The clouds cast a shadow over the landscape as a light but steady drizzle seemed to permeate the air. The day’s agenda was barren of dedicated community chores or tasks. Free from some pain this reluctant Parkinson’s participant had been experiencing earlier in the week, a leisurely morning was engaged catching up on some reading and reflecting. In the still quiet of the moment a glance at a wall of pictures ignited an almost combustible explosion of memories. Cherished moments of roasting hot dogs with my older sons near the farm pond in North Carolina; Christmas dinner with Mom, my sister and all the kids in our Philadelphia row house; a birthday celebration nineteen years ago in rural Pennsylvania, and our children on the beach near our Connecticut home were images that coalesced in an erupting fountain of thankfulness. The richness of blessings we have experienced came rushing to my mind like a freight train loaded with grains of memories. As I paused in these moments of reflection I recalled that never once did the presence of worry, fear, or doubt regarding our lives serve to advance or propel us toward the blessing of family in which we lived. We lived, loved and worked toward a foundation of wholeness in which each of our lives could thrive and mature. Perfection was never achieved, nor was it sought. However, today’s reflection displays characters perfectly suited for their roles even as the stage is lighted for the next experience.
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