Time Is A Freight Train

I spent part of the weekend with my three grown sons. I emphasize “grown.”

The youngest is approaching 30. When they left me on Saturday night, I have to admit, I had a bit of an emotional meltdown. The rest of the weekend I pondered why…why did I hate waving good-bye?

I think it is because I remember every moment of their birth, the growing pains…their stupid antics that got them in trouble and the decisions they made that I wish I could have made for them.

Part of my melancholy was because we are not able to spend much time together as a group anymore. They have their own families…and this weekend blew by like a freight train….just like our lives.

And the other part of my emotion was my realization that I’m getting older too. I only have to look into the mirror to see my Dad. Sometimes, I can feel genetics kick in and things fall out of my mouth that used to fall out of his. It’s rather remarkable.

Time is really the enemy. The good Lord gives us so much time to do good things here and then we get called home. There’s nothing sad or melancholy about that. The sadness should be directed to people who don’t believe in that destiny.

So, I think I need to say… I’m proud of my sons….what they have become….the way they care for their families….and the passion they put into their careers. They know I am a phone call away…and…

There will be other weekends.