Blessed be the Tie

Whoever said "Parting is such sweet sorry" could have left out the "sweet" word. It's just plum hard. I have to admit to struggling with endings. I do not like to get to the last chapter of a good book. I cling to the dock when we leave the beach. Even as a child walking to school, I would dart back behind my sisters (annoying the daylights out of them) to wave to our mother one more time who was watching from the window.  Over the years I have noticed in myself and others a syndrome that I call "premature withdrawal". That is simply the phenomena lived out that goes something like this, "It is going to hurt to say goodbye so in order to protect myself, I will just become distant and pretend that you are gone already to get it over with." Key words in this line of thinking are "I", "myself", and "me". I end up hurting the very person I am going to miss. I borrow sorrow from tomorrow.

Stretching my heartstrings and growing my faith in His providential plan, God has been at work. I have sent husband and children off on many short-term mission trips. I have said goodbye to a son going  to war. I have bid farewell to children and grandchildren called to live on the other side of the world. When our children were young, nestled in their beds asleep, I made the rounds before I slept adjusting  the covers and making sure they were snug. Now as I tuck-in via prayers around the world, I come up short trying to do the time change in my head and realizing that some family members are starting their day as we go to bed. Thankful I am that God never sleeps nor slumber and has the international dateline coved. Bowing the knee of my heart, I acknowledge that our lives are not are own. God has a plan that I am learning to gratefully embrace as I pause in the present. Learning is another key word. There are growing pains still, and I do not have this down-pat, but I am in the classroom.

And so, on our last day together, my girl and I were intentional. Because we are now geographically separated  by hundreds of miles for the first time in  life, without a clue as to when we will be together again, we made a conscious decision to think of how happy we would be to share just one day. We  set out to joyfully embrace the present moment. Strategically, we had saved the local crepery for our last morning. Both savory and sweet to share. We licked the platter clean. Yummmmmmmmm.

Side note: I have a cute, little petite friend who is notoriously unable to eat when stressed. Doesn't work that way in our family. Our motto: 

If you're happy, eat. 

If you're sad, eat.

If you're celebrating, eat.

Discouraged? Eat.

When in doubt, a li'l bite of something will help.

To work off the hearty breakfast in order to merit a visit to the local dairy for famous Babcock ice cream, we marched off on a brisk walk to the Universtiy of Wisconsin campus. The colorful waterfront terrace is host to concerts thought the summer months. And just watching the workout of the kayakers made ice cream almost a necessity. 

Moving right along, we trudged  gaily arm-in-arm past opulent mansions on the hill that were homes to former Madison aristocracy. We ended our trek with a picnic overlooking the lake. In the days since we watched the sun set that first Wisconsin evening of my visit, spring has sprung. God has done something new. We are aware of it. (Isaiah 43:19)

God is so good to connect the dots in both curious and significant ways. Earlier in the week, with a penchant for vintage china, my  daughter picked a plate in a thrift store that was the same pattern from my mother's kitchen growing up. Later when a set of dessert bowls popped up, we could not resist. One more piece of rhubarb pie to share. One more cup of coffee. One more memory served up. 

For he will not often consider the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart.

Ecclesiastes 5:20