Friday, May 21: unfailing vision

“We see much, observe little, and perceive less ”

Today almost got away from me. Twenty days straight of blogging and, as soon as all my major responsibilities are complete and put away, I can’t seem to sit down to write.

I blame my sister (she’s visiting). I blame the weather (it’s beautiful). I blame the children (I had to feed them).

Actually, I blame my mother and her siblings. Tomorrow we are leaving for a road trip to Minnesota to attend my aunt and uncle’s 60th anniversary party. It will be the first time my siblings have been together with my parents since 2017.

When you are really young, four years is a long time—4 to 8 to 12 to 16—those are big jumps. When you're youthful, it’s not so long—college is 4 years or so and that’s no time at all. When you get to midlife, four years brings big changes again.

At this point in our lives, seeing each other every 4 years or so can make us see some shocking changes in our relatives. And, I suppose, they see changes in us, too.

My 14-year-old daughter is coming with us—most of my family hasn’t seen her since she was 10. There will be many comments about how different she looks. Besides the fact that she’s is about a foot taller, she’s also rounded the corner into all that teen stuff. Granted, there are some things about her that have not changed—I could create an entire photo album of frowning stare-down pictures (starting in utero)—but she looks like a whole ‘nother person now.

Luckily, I haven’t changed.

There is a tyranny to sight. We rely on our sight to define our reality and tell us what’s true. We use the language of sight to discuss what we should have understood—i.e., hindsight is 20/20—or to convey understanding—see what I mean?

If we don’t see change, we can tell ourselves there is none—everything is just as it has always been. But this weekend, I’m going to see how my family has changed, observe what that means, and perceive that we shouldn’t wait four years to see each other again.