Thursday, April 30, 2015
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When our daughter got married there was one song I told her I did not want to hear at the wedding. You know, "Where is that little girl I carried, where is that little boy at play?" Okay, I'm not going to sing it for you, but you know the song. Well, the time really did fly, like the song says, "Sunrise, sunset, swiftly pass the years." It's a song that taps into some very deep feelings about the mystery of life, and I don't think I could have handled it at my daughter's wedding. It points out how that parade of Saturdays and Tuesdays and Thursdays just sort of seem to flow together into years-so just yesterday my daughter is a bouncy little girl cuddling on my lap. And then she's a poised bride on the arm of her new husband. But that song also captures the real practical essence of this massive entity we call "my life"- it boils down to those bite-size chunks called days. It's almost as if we die each night when we hit the bed and we get resurrected each new morning to a fresh new day.