The Best Days
Those were good days.
…And so are these.
Alone on a walk this past weekend, I had to smile and shake my head in amazement at the way life so often manages to hit me with revelations as clear as this one felt…
That day, a little more than halfway through a 45-minute walk, I’d made the turn to head back home along the river trail when, across the road and up the hill to my right, I heard the unmistakable sound of the start of an offroad motorcycle race. Unmistakable, because we lived most weekends for nearly a decade of our lives standing on starting lines with our son; knots in our stomachs; breath suspended in our lungs; waiting for the green flag to wave. Then watching him launch off into the chaos of a roar just like that. How many times over the years had he lined up and taken off at that exact hometown race? More than I could count.
It's funny, because just the evening before, my husband and I had discussed over dinner how different our life feels these days compared to previous versions of it. I can’t imagine a day when we’ll ever reflect and have a conversation about that and not think about the racing years: Truly a way of life for us for so long, and the source of some of the very best memories we’ve ever made.
It didn’t end exactly the way we had planned, thanks to 2020. I’ve told snippets of that whole story before and will probably tell more in the future. But for now, I suspect we all share enough common ground regarding that particular year that you likely understand how it felt to have something just – end. It took me some time and some work to get through that.
Even though we didn’t get the ending we’d begun planning, we got so much more from those years than we ever could have hoped, imagined, or dreamed. We both still feel so gratefully humbled when we think of all our son managed to accomplish during that time. Remarkable achievements he can carry with him for the rest of his life. Unforgettable moments and experiences for us all: A family made even closer in the process. There was never any guarantee that it would all go that way. Quite frankly, for most – it does not. Because I know this with my whole heart, my final thought concluding that line of dinner conversation was the one I realize I’ve somehow adopted as my unofficial mantra regarding that part of our lives:
Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.
Today, I look back and really like the fact that I got “through” and not “over” the jumble of emotions I felt when it ended. In fact, I hope I never get “over” it, because I want the good of it - and the gratitude I feel for having gotten to live that experience - to always stay with me. I hope I can never hear that roar of motors firing to life and not feel my heart just a little bit pricked - because those really were good days…
…and so are these.
Had I written an actual script, I just couldn’t have orchestrated more serendipitously the timing of what happened next on that walk…
Over the course of a few seconds, I heard the race to my right, felt those feelings, and acknowledged the peace I now have with it all… Then, in the next second, to my left: Beyond a patch of woods, on the river, I heard another (different yet equally recognizable) motor: My son’s camouflage War Eagle boat… The trees, still not quite at their summertime fullness, afforded me just enough view to see it: Him and our beautiful little black lab, Drake… soaring down the sparkling river beneath the puffy clouds in a stunningly blue mid-May sky. Fully enjoying where they live and what they love to do. And I realized: This is a way of life now. And I get to see it - in the middle of a perfectly “ordinary” day.
Those days of which I had just been reminded were good days – and so are these.
Just like a little while ago I meant to say, “through” instead of “over” – Here, I mean to say, “and” instead of “but.”
To say, “Those were good days, BUT so are these,” would feel to me like the second part might somehow call into question… maybe even slightly disqualify or devalue the first part. That’s why “and” feels better to me. I mean for it to allow both parts to stand as equally and absolutely true. That matters to me - because they are.
I know so many people who, right this very moment, are working through something.
Maybe your life is changing - in ways you didn’t choose, or for which you don’t feel “ready” …
School years are ending. For many, the “last.” Last sporting seasons, proms, dance recitals… even those last school-morning wakeups at home. So many things that have been… life, as you’ve known it, for a long time.
Job changes, moves, separations, and divorces are happening to so many. Life events that mean an important part of what and who you are just… ends.
Physical health struggles abound. How suddenly it seems to happen that the body can simply no longer do the things the mind and heart want to do. Maybe you wonder if you’ll ever feel like “yourself” again…
And those are just a few of the things I know about.
The truth is that, at any given time, most of us battle something. Maybe we just don’t allow others to see it.
Some things, we really do want to get over. Others - maybe we just need a moment to get through.
When it comes to figuring out the difference between those things in my own life, I usually have far more questions than answers. So, I certainly can’t give you answers…
But I can (and given how powerfully this message struck me, feel like I’m supposed to) make sure to let you know: You are not alone. I have been there, too. In some ways, I very much still am.
I can also tell you an important truth I’ve learned: It is all temporary. I suppose that can either feel like welcome news - or news you’d rather not hear - depending on how you feel about your stage of life today. In both situations, I have found that trying to remember that nothing will last forever makes a real difference in my experience of it.
I can, and wholeheartedly want to, invite you to join me in believing - and trusting - that God has each of us right where we are, right now, on purpose. Even (or maybe especially) if it’s someplace we didn’t choose or for which we don’t feel “ready.” It might have caught us off guard, but nothing ever surprises Him.
I can, bolstered by personal experience, remind you that even if you’re not sure whether you’re getting “over” or “through” something – not to forget to live your days while you do it. To try not to let feelings for what has passed overshadow what you have. Now. You just can’t know when, or how, you will get the unmistakable, indisputable reminder that, somewhere along the line, these became good days, too.
For that beautiful recent reminder in my life, I say this:
I hear you, God.
I know you hear me, and I hope you know how much I mean it when I say, “thank you.”
…For what you’ve given me so far.
For where you have me right now.
For helping me learn to trust that…
To believe that you’ve brought me through things – to now – for your perfect reasons.
That you have good things for me.
That you always will.
Please help me remember to pay attention, remain willing to notice them, and grow the faith to always receive them.
Every day, I work at learning to do a better job of living my life that way.
I have glimpsed enough to believe - for sure - that if, with His help, I can do that?