8-31-20<\/p>\n
My late wife and I had a formula for dealing with matters that helped contribute to a happy marriage. I would concentrate on the big issues that arose; and she would handle all the minor matters.<\/p>\n
Therefore, I addressed things like nuclear disarmament, the World Trade Organization, and amnesty for illegal border crossings. Nancy handled the small things like household budgets, car insurance, and the mortgage.<\/p>\n
It actually worked out well. Behind most jokes and pathetic confessions in life, as this is, there are principles that represent truth and tangible benefits. \u201cTangible,\u201d in my analogy, is the lesson that life is made up of \u201cbig\u201d and \u201csmall\u201d matters \u2013 a clich\u00e9 in itself \u2013 but meaning that we often are seduced into thinking that correct decisions about \u201cbig\u201d challenges are sufficient to bring success.<\/p>\n
Ignoring or dismissing the \u201csmall\u201d matters in life is like building a house on a foundation of sand. Both types of challenges are essential to address, but the \u201csmall\u201d matters comprise the mortar that holds the bricks of our lives together.
\nThis too is an old chestnut, you might think, but I saw these clich\u00e9s in a new light as I prepared the annual \u201ckids leaving home\u201d message here. This year, the pesky virus turns that topic on its head too \u2013 children going away to college, or other Rites of Autumn. Some kids leave, some stay, others will be somewhere in between this year.<\/p>\n
I have observed about children growing up under our care that the days seem to drag\u2026 but the years whiz by. And they are gone before we know it. Life shouldn\u2019t work that way, but life seldom follows our scripts.<\/p>\n
I see my two grandchildren in Northern Ireland a couple times a week, and even so \u201cI can\u2019t believe how they\u2019re growing!\u201d \u2013 which is great, but a distant second to in-person contact. You can\u2019t hug a Skype screen, which how we visit. I have two other grandchildren 45 minutes from my house, but because of an argument whose details I totally forget, I have not seen my daughter or them for three years, except briefly once by a mistake. Life shouldn\u2019t work that way, either.<\/p>\n
I have been touched by a song since before the first of my three kids even went off to college, and I share it every leaving-the-nest season. Now all three are in and out of college, in professions, successful and busy. I have grandchildren, as I say, and for all these factors, there is another script I cannot write, nor would want to \u2013 that life could switch itself into reverse gear. It is great to see children leave, and a great and proper fulfillment, unto lives of their own. And, I suppose, they will have bittersweet tears when their own children leave their nests.<\/p>\n
When we stop and think \u2013 when we stop to think \u2013 the \u201cbig\u201d moments in a family\u2019s life can make us smile with pride or chuckle at significant milestones. But the \u201csmall\u201d things, the mortar that holds us together, things like drawings from grade school, lamps in the attic, toys from birthdays past, memories of little joys and (ultimately unimportant) childhood crises\u2026 those are what we cherish best and miss the most.<\/p>\n
For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. There is a season \u2013 turn, turn, as the song puts it. I understand. I have read the script. But sometimes these old bones find it a little harder to dance to the script\u2019s music.<\/p>\n Thank God for all things. But remember to savor the small things.<\/p>\n + + +<\/p>\n
\nA time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest.
\nA time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up.
\nA time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.
\nA time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
\nA time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away.
\nA time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
\nA time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n