A journey is not a trip.
A journey is not a vacation.
A journey is not departing toward a pre-planned destination.
A journey is life itself.
We each have a journey as unique, private, and personal as our toothbrush.
With a definite beginning and certain ending.
The journey is constant-though it ebbs and flows, comforts and bruises, exalts and discourages. Amazingly, one may reclaim, relive and retrieve bits and pieces of the journey at any time.
Therein lies the blessing, the reward-or perhaps the curse. The marvelous miracle of memory can return
us to pleasant places or to times best forgotten; recall a long-lost thrill to make us smile again.
It is as easy as pressing “enter” on a computer keyboard and in varying degrees, is available to any of us. I know. I hear my 90 year old husband suddenly recall a happy incident from the cob webs of years past. Though often he cannot recall what he had for lunch the past hour.
Test that memory button often, as long as the journey lasts. For us to ponder an important question:
My Veteran Dad