A Foundation for Tomorrow

We spent the better part of the day saying "goodbye" to my cousin. She wasn't a direct cousin, I guess, but one of those second or thirds, or once removed things that I never seem to care enough about to figure out. She felt like family, and that's all that mattered. She liked the Phillies. The season can come and go without my once asking, "How the Phils looking this year?" She loved the beach. I like the beach when it's about sixty degrees and there's not a soul in sight. She liked butterflies. I appreciate them, but I'm no fan. We were different, but that never mattered to us. We were family.

Just days later, I was sitting across the table and laughing with a man I'd never met. His smile, though, was unforgettable -- the smile of a boy I knew in elementary school. Forty (or more) years had changed us, but it had not changed our relationship. Our lives had taken different paths, and the things that motivated us and brought us joy in our childhood are not the things that inspire and thrill us today. But there, in that diner, I found a piece of my past. He said things like "Robinhood's barn," and recalled the black mats under the "monkey bars." Still, there was so much I wish I remembered -- we share a past upon which we built our presents.

And here I sit today, thinking about all of the crazy events, special people and everyday-type days that have brought me here. Some people came into my life as quickly as they went out. Some people seemed to linger too long. Some moments energized and emboldened me. Some seemed to suck the life right out of me. Some days came and went without so much as a whimper. Others rolled in like a summer storm and roared out like a lion enraged.

The afternoon we returned from my cousin's funeral, Scott was pushing people down the road and driving like the second place competitor on the last lap. I fumed.

"But they get in this lane and they do stupid stuff and they go slow--"

"WHO CARES?!!" I yelped.

"Huh?"

"WHO CARES?! It's a beautiful afternoon. We rarely spend time together. Our life is whizzing past us faster than I care to notice. WHY must we be in such a hurry?!"

One day today, this day, will be "yesterday." And then it will be "the past." And I might be glad to see it go, or I might be sorry I hadn't spent more time with the people I love. I might wish I could remember more.

I might just wish I'd taken my time and paid a little more attention to the foundation for my tomorrows.