a parent . . . a child . . .

It's hard to be the parent and watch your kids struggle with all that makes life what it is: decisions for today - decisions that will affect tomorrow - decisions that have consequences (known & unknown) - and to learn what it means to be content. That one is especially hard.

and to learn to trust. God. to place in His Hands their future. A future that has so much opportunity. A future that they can't see. A future that has so much potential. A future that offers no guarantees.

Yet. It's also hard to be the child. To watch the parent age. weak. frail. just shells of who they once were.

It's been an interesting last few months.

We have celebrated and rejoiced greatly as we welcomed a dear young woman into our family. What a great celebration of God's love and of the love of two young adults. A celebration of family. A celebration of blessing. Great memories to cherish and to treasure in a heart that is filled to the brim and overflowing...

At the same time, we've come to a crossroads. The home place is sold. The outbuildings are empty - hollow and mere skeletons of what they once were - of what they once held. Memories flood through my mind as I wander the yard, remembering.

Here we played kick-the-can; we scaled that building; we sat on this rooftop; we drove the scooter here; the lake.... a terrifying and fearful place about which we warned our children - don't try crossing it in winter - the ice is not stable. Don't get too close to the bank - it's steep and the water is deep.

Oh. And these favourite spots where we hid eggs & treats at Easter.

The lilac bush... "Remember when...... ?"

My feet kick the gravel - no longer do I need to worry about whether I'm leaving a trail of scuffling feet. It won't be long now before I'll not drive onto the yard, looking to park my car under the shade of the trees.

My eyes water. My throat tightens. This has been my home. What will it be like to drive to see my folks - but not stop to turn in at the 1st driveway? but to drive on by. Past the 2nd driveway. Into town. To the house that they have now purchased.

I don't like the home they've bought. It's a house that I'm familiar with - a house that holds memories that I'd rather leave behind. Maybe in time those memories will fade. Maybe in time it will become my parent's home. Maybe in time. . .