Thanksgiving. Should I say it? Yes, I will say it... where has the year gone? I wish I knew.
The autumn wind, it seems, scatters the days as easily as it does the leaves. I must admit...I'm feeling very wind-blown. But I’m heading home for Thanksgiving in the morning... five days with the family in Virginia Beach. Heavenly.
I was going to write something special for Thanksgiving (since I probably will not write much in the coming days), but I decided to close with the following instead...
It's something I wrote two years ago, and it feels like the right time to share it again. But first, have a great Thanksgiving, all of you! The best to you and yours.
— 3 September 2016 —
Someday.
It's the most insincere word in the English language. Yet we say it all the time.
“Someday, I’ll get back home and visit. Someday, I’ll make that trip. We’ll get together someday. Someday, let’s make time for that. Someday.”
I wrote the above in a blog… many years ago. A long-lost blog hosted by a service called Tripod... also long gone. Both serve as poignant reminders that all of what we write here on the internet is temporary… persistent bits and bytes that are anything but…and are, in fact, fleeting… eager to seek a digital entropy of sorts.
I was thinking recently about all the times I used the word when I was young… when people who meant the world to me were only a day's drive away. People who now no amount of driving will suffice for even a simple “just dropped by to say hello and spend a moment at the table with you” type of visit.
Anne Frank wrote in her diary that the dead receive more flowers than the living because regret is stronger than gratitude. A surprisingly deep thought for someone in her early teens. And so very true. What a wonderful writer she would have blossomed into.
Don't let your somedays turn into regrets. That's all I really wanted to say.
