The "Graduates" Sam and Sarah Beth! (Aren't they cute? Too bad they are cousins! :)
Anne and Dana-- Friends reunited after a 20-year separation!
Anne wanted a family picture. Tim (who looks like he is shrinking) was bending over to hold Hannah, who had ketchup on her face. Daniel really isn't losing his hair, he says. The stylist just cut it extra short this time!
Anne and some church friends. Anne's parents are on the left.
The girls made some new friends, too! (l to r) Hannah, Rebecca, Sarah, and Grace.
Life is sure full of some poignant moments. I have had a few of those lately, and I will probably be having a few more in the not-so-faraway future, if the earth stands.
Sunday evening, we drove over to a neighboring town to meet a dear friend that I have not seen in about 20 years. Anne and I have managed to keep up with one another somehow, and we have a sweet long-distance relationship. She has watched my family grow and change, and I have watched and prayed a lot as she and her husband fought some terrible battles with health, and tough situations and unkind people. Of course, when we left South Carolina all those years ago, Dan and Sam were just babies. It was rather entertaining to reunite her with them 20 years later, as they have grown quite a bit! :)
We met at a congregation that I attended as a girl. As "fate" would have it, one of the elders started the singing service off with some observations about the history of the congregation. He reflected on the death two weeks ago of his fellow-elder and a man whom I have respected for years, Brother Herb. He said that he was going to do something slightly different and ask all who were present on the day this particular church first assembled in 1973 to stand up. I was 10 in 1973, and my family was there on the day when we started out in an old building that had previously been used by the Methodists in town. We shortly purchased a horse barn, of all things, gutted it, and made a very comfortable church building out of it. There were lots of jokes from the pulpit about meeting in a barn until my dad pointed out when it was his turn to preach (until we found a permanent preacher) that the Lord started out in a stable. After that, I don't remember anyone joking about it anymore. The church met in that place for a number of years until the present building was built and the old horse barn torn down. Now, it is a huge church, so unlike the small group of 50 or 60 who started it. I would imagine that there were about 20 or so of us Sunday night who were present and have made it these 34 years since. It was another one of those "poignant moments" when I looked over and Brother Herb's family stood without him.
The town where I grew up is now so different that it bears no resemblance to my old stomping ground. It is now a very affluent suburb of Nashville, and I marvel every time I go back at the changing face of the city. The old hill above my house that used to boast of the presence of Skeeter Davis' and Little Jimmy Dickens' homes now has mansions that are indescribable. Long gone are many of the modest "mansions" that I admired from my spot in the valley below.
For old time's sake, we drove down my old street before we jumped on the interstate. The old house is still there, but it will only be a matter of time before all those houses are eaten up by "progress." In some ways, that would not bother me, because it frankly does not seem right that anyone else could ever live in that house. We were the first to live in that house, and Mom and Dad stayed 30 years before moving. Across the street, I noted the home of "Mr. Tom" who was lost to cancer a couple of months back. "Our town" has lost some colorful citizens lately.
I'm learning that it is pretty painful to look back, because you want to see things the way they were when you last left them, and that is not going to happen. It seems like looking forward is more productive. I will miss the things I have left behind, but they are effectively dead now for me. I came home Sunday night with both sadness and happiness. I thought about how much I love my family, how proud I am of each one, and how happy and blessed I am to be with the man I love. I had some good times in 1973 when a new church was growing explosively. I had some special times with some good people in South Carolina in 1988. But it is 2007, and I am here, and since there is no going back, I look forward, slightly curious and hopeful about the next of my "poignant moments."
It seems I have dragged some of my "time-travelers" with me, through nearly 45 years of history now, and I would not take anything for the friendships and family ties we still share. However, I think we all realize that we are older, slower, (hopefully) wiser, and many more "-ers" than we were back then. We all seem to be o.k. with it. Most of us share the same goal--that most poignant moment of all, when we look into the eyes of our Savior--and all of this other stuff is over. I am sad that many I have known have grown weary and dropped out of the race. Apparently, our goals ceased to be the same at some point. But I thank the Lord every day for people like Anne who refuse to give up, who urge me on when I get lazy or weary, and who have the guts to stand for something. These folks are the stars of my "poignant moments."
So, onward I trod...301. I was telling someone today that with Sam's graduation, I feel like I have turned another page. It isn't one of those little thin pages, but rather it seems like I have turned one of the thick ones between chapters. The family dynamic is changing again, with another man raised and venturing out to find his way. Sometimes I don't think I will ever survive the little ones. Then, the Anne's of my life email and tell me that I will make it. I reckon, with God's help, that I will.
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