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| Camp Mechuwana not that long ago and still there was snow! |
There
is something about a bridge. I saw this bridge and had to stop and take a
picture, who doesn't love a bridge? I
don't mean the big kind some are afraid to drive over but a bridge like
this--who doesn't love it?
When our children were young my husband
built a little white rounded bridge for the PTA float; bridging the gap between
home and school. That bridge was used
for years in our backyard as a place for damsels in distress, knights in
duels,goats and trolls, backpackers and mountain climbers. We brought that
bridge to brownies and scouts for badge ceremonies and it was even used for a
high school dance photo backdrop. I have
no idea what finally happened to that bridge but I do know we loved it.
There are rickey bridges and the
ones that rise up high, there are the bridges we lift our feet off the car
floor for so we can make a wish and there are the ones we don't open our eyes
on until we are on the other side. There is the thrill and the lurch in the
stomach that comes with some bridges and there are the moments of time stood
still right in the middle of the bridge
I think of all the transitions that
are taking place in our family and I am reminded of how a bridge can represent
the place we stand as we look to the past and the future. Between my own children and my nieces and
nephews transitions abound. There are
graduations and weddings, first apartments and new jobs, some will move and
some will travel. As they begin to take
these first steps to someplace/ something new the beauty is this, there is no
door on the other side that will close. The bridge is open ended, the bridge
connects our past to our future.
“The
wisdom of bridges comes from the fact that they know the both sides, they know
the both shores!”
―
Mehmet Murat Ildan
.
I too am in a time of transition as
I prepare to move from one congregation in Hallowell to another in
Farmington. I feel like I am standing in
the middle of bridge, I look back at the shores I have come to know so well:
the Sugar Cookies, and Scrummy's treats, the candy dish which measured stress by the number of wrappers in
the trash. I look back at chicken pie, plants and the story I have learned to
tell of a man named Melville. Quilting,
yoga, picnics, walks and the best meatloaf ever (!) at "The Cup". Children dressed in costume, children with
painted faces, children saying prayer, welcoming strangers and eating donuts
off a string. I look back at coffee with
friends and long conversations.
I stand on the bridge and looking
back at a steeple, Slates, the Harlow, Whipper Snappers and Reappearances. I
look forward to a longer drive with lakes and farms along the way, gardens and
town fairs...I stand in this place with a little bit of a lurch in my stomach
but I gain confidence in knowing that the place I leave is not closed off to me
and the place I arrive I will know well enough-soon enough.
