Cycles

Brietta's little ones are thrilled to be at Aunt Judy's house. In their young minds it is fast becoming a vacation home, full of fun and memories. As I helped Daniel settle the kids on makeshift beds in the corner of their room and open the pack-n-play for little Jackson I was thrust back in time about 22 years. When Danica, Bri, and Carina were the toddlers and babes, Rick and I were routinely visiting Aunt Gerry in Leominster, Mass. That was the vacation home in their young minds. Bedtime with stories and favorite blankets was done on the daybed outside of Aunt Elly's room. And now, here we are, establishing similar memories for Gabriel and Bronwyn. Cycles.

Later we found Papa (that would be Rick) snuggled on the hammock in the side yard with little Bronwyn. Immediately a favorite photo came to mind: Papa (Rick's dad) snuggled on the chaise lounge with baby Danica on the front porch in Leominster, Mass. Cycles.

Off to Levittown we drove yesterday, caravan style. Daddy was intent on showing the younger set the old family homestead. As we pulled up in front of 16 Morning Glory, warm fuzzies flooded my soul. Brietta stepped out of the van and her eyes filled with tears. It had been a long time since she was last here, and the absence of Nana sitting inside that big front window was sorely felt. The favorite neighbor was there to greet us and the sound of her voice was comforting. As she said, "It is never the same." Some cycles are not so easily repeated.

Time.

Once again, time leaves its mark, either in cycles revisited with us in a new place in the circle, or in memories never to be lived again.

And the promise of eternity draws near. Oh, sweet Jesus, how dear You are.