At some point during high school--probably when I was feeling literary and angst ridden--I read Sylvia Plath's journals. I copied down every great quote I could find, and while there were many, this one has really stuck with me:
"Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all that I have taken for granted. When you feel that this may be the goodbye, the last time, it hits you harder."
Those words haunt me at every painful goodbye I've ever had. Over the last few years, every time we go down to Hays to visit Grandma and Grandpa, it occurs to me that it may be the last. It's hard to walk away, to be so far away, and to wonder about how easy it is to take people, their lives, and their permanence in our lives, for granted.
God willing, this morning was not the last time I'll see Grandma. But it felt like it, more than any other.
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1 comment:
I know exactly what you are talking about it and I hate it.
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