Highways of Thought

Patience seemed to be the reaccurring theme as I drove to Marquette Friday morning. It was as though the Universe was reminding me to slow down, take my time, observe the journey, all events happen in perfect timing. Funny thing is I am one of the most patient people you will meet when it comes to receiving holiday gifts. However… when it comes to change, I want it now. Waiting for the green light to go is almost tortuous for this redhead. There is change in the air and I can feel it percolating. Sometime in the near future I will be moving. The ‘when’ part isn’t as important as the acceptance of the idea – moving. As I crested the hill on M-28 a few miles west of Christmas, a town well known for the wooden replica of Santa and Mrs. Claus, there was a sense of I’m almost home. The view of Lake Superior from this vantage point is breathtaking. This relaxed, tension releasing exhilaration felt familiar as though I had come over a hilltop a mile from the road I grew up on. “I’m home.”

The relaxing time up north was spent with family. My cousin Robert passed away in March at his home in Wisconsin and this past Friday his parents hosted a memorial service in his honor. Uncle Terry play Amazing Grace on his favorite clarinet before closing prayer for his son's service. This family tradition started long before I can remember and this was by far Terry's best performance as we sat in silence with freefalling tears. The power of his music embraced all of us. A previously unnoticed garden wind chime twinkled slightly in the still air. Bobbie was there sharing his unconditional love and support in the celebrated moment.

Family and friends joined Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Terry in their garden to continue the celebration of Bobbie’s life. Young children played and investigated the rock pathways, snuggled and napped. Adults shared in memories and plans for the future, food and laughter. A dragonfly perched on a flower was photographed by the camera-packing individuals. Handfuls upon handfuls of wild blueberries were picked from the patch behind the floral garden. Everyone felt at home.

It was good for me to slip away from routine and share the ticking of the wrist watch with family whom I hadn’t seen in about two and a half years. I resisted the temptation to call in sick to work on Sunday and headed back to my Lower Michigan reality late Saturday afternoon. The six hour drive offered plenty of one-on-one time with Self to think, sing to the radio and devour chocolate peacefully without having to share. My thoughts seem to focus on what do I want? If I could create anything, be anything, do anything…what? A fair number of questions were answered listening to the humming of tires rolling effortlessly down Highway 2 and across the Mackinaw Bridge. Others were left unanswered until the time is perfect for revealing. As a dear friend of mine reminds me often, “It’s all in the enfoldment. Allow it to be.”