These are the days we will remember

I’m sure you’ve noticed my absence. You’ve probably been checking my web site daily asking, “where’s Linda . . . where’s Linda?” I could almost hear your teeth gnashing with worry.

And I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you. All I can do is offer excuses . . . and lay blame . . . and yes, I’m laying it in the lap of my son again! This time it was his Eagle Court of Honor.

And it was the relatives coming from three different states to honor him. And all of them staying at my house. It was the maniacal cleaning leading up to their arrival, the shopping for food, the planning of meals, the back & forth to the airport.

It was the CofH program template that had me tearing my hair out right up till the last minute, unsure of how it’d turn out until finally when Office Depot called and said, “your hundred copies are ready!” It was the ordering of food and the worry that it might not be enough. It was the planning of decorations and the attention to every tiny, minute detail right up to the pen that accompanied the sign-in sheet.

It was the four hours of interrupted sleep that I enjoyed nightly, waking up time and again . . . “did I forget this? did I plan for that?”

All culminating in this:

And this:

And this:
Maybe a little of this:

And this presentation that Ronnie’s dad put together for the ceremony, with Keith Urban in the background singing These are the Days we will Remember.

And even the hike we took on Monday, treating my sister and brother-in-law to a day at Brazos Bend State Park, famous for its resident gators:


We had a little over 80 people show up to celebrate Ronnie’s success, some from California, some from Pennsylvania, most from right here in Houston. And although I fretted and worried and lost a lot of sleep, the day turned out to be a huge success. And spending time with relatives I never get to see . . . well, that was nothing short of awesome.

Of course I didn’t write a single word through all of it–sans the invitation, the program and the script, that is. And even now it’s been slow coming . . . almost like I’m taking my time on re-entry, avoiding the bends by surfacing cautiously.

But I think we humans need those times of rapid acceleration in our lives. Times that get our heart racing and our pulse thumping. Times of hyper emotion. If we juxtapose them to the normal, mundane run-of-the-mill type days, it makes the overall journey more interesting and fun. We can grab hold of our seats and let the momentum of life pull us along in a whirlwind for a while. Then, we can spend some time coasting along on the easy track, enjoying that ride too. It’s all part of life.

So as I said goodbye to all my loved ones, as I spent ten full hours sleeping Wednesday night, as I tossed away the last of the leftover cake, I kept coming back to the words to the song Ron used in the Scout Presentation: these are, indeed, the days I will remember.

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2 Responses to These are the days we will remember

  1. Beth Cross says:

    Congratulations!!! So sorry I missed it! What a special day… one you and your family will remember for ever!

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