Thanksgiving

 

We are back in the desert for Thanksgiving; it is a tradition we have nurtured since Molly’s death and a comforting place to be.  We are surrounded by family, the beds are full to the point that some are sleeping on mattresses in the garage and the turkey is starting to fill the house with memories and warmth and anticipation.

We are fortunate, too, to have friends out here with us: friends who have known us for decades and have sustained us through the last several years.  As we gathered last night to drink wine and watch the sunset, we were all struck with the ways that the simple longevity of our relationships seems to bring the past into the present.  And as we made plans to visit again in a few months, the future crept in to our midst as well.

Time collapses.  We are so woven in to each other’s lives that we cannot separate ourselves from each other’s future victories and past losses.  There is comfort in that.

People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." - Albert Einstein