This weekend was one that I will remember always, not because it was remarkable or unusual in any way, but because of the sweet familiarity that it brought to my heart, punctuated with a bittersweet parting.
We spent Saturday with our good friend Lisa, boating and relaxing during the day and showing her my old stomping grounds.
We had a competition to see who could touch their noses with their tongues. As usual, only two winners:
In the evening we went to the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show, which is a guaranteed good time, despite their having discontinued my favorite competition (build a campfire, cook and eat a pancake, all while holding on to your pet llama). It was a warm night filled with the scent of childhood summers....that intoxicating perfume of farm animals, lemonade and funnel cake.
The next day we relaxed in the hazy stupor of a muggy Sunday afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. MacPeek, a couple I consider my adoptive grandparents, came for a visit. I sat reading my book and drifting off to my father and Mr. MacPeek chatting, as I have so many times before. The scene could have just as easily been set with me in pigtails reading Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase - but this time it was a bob and The Kite Runner. I was drifting in and out when I heard my name. "I really admire the way Courtney has worked so hard to get where she is. We're really proud of her." It wasn't my father's voice - it was a voice with the depth of 80 years of living...a wise voice whose tenor betrays the modesty of one who has accomplished so much....it was a voice not free with compliments, but scratchy with the understanding of the challenges this life brings. As my dad mumbled a modest, but proud, confirmation, the dogs began to bark and howl and the conversation returned to neighborhood news and plans.
I stared at page 267 for what seemed like hours, my eyes welling with an appreciation that I couldn't express...after all, I wasn't meant to hear this heartwarming comment. My husband came out to check on me, and I was glad for my notorious case of allergies that answered any unspoken questions about glassy eyes. And before I knew it, one of the most satisfying moments of my adult life had come and gone....almost silently...evaporated into the afternoon conversation like the mist that traveled down the lake earlier that morning.
Later in the day, we received word that my Uncle Ed had taken a turn for the worse and was slowly leaving this world. I thought of my memories of him growing up, of the jokes and hugs and how everytime we gave him a kiss he would rave about all of the attention from "all these beautiful girls" - but mostly I thought of my daddy.
Of how Uncle Ed was one of the few people at one point in his life who believed in him and took pride in his accomplishments. I thought of the deep ache of losing someone whose example led you to achieve more than you thought capable, and whose confidence means the world. I thought of the passing of a generation of leaders, and how my parents had become those pillars for me and so many of my peers. Unfortunately, the twilight hours of the day heralded the twilight of Uncle Ed's life. He passed on late in the evening and this world lost a brilliant mind, a kind man, and a deep soul. Our hearts are heavy with grief and loss, but are light with the knowledge that Uncle Ed's faith brought him safely home to a place of rest and comfort. May we all find some of the same in this life, in one another's arms.
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