© Jeanne E Webster

I sit here today and reminisce.   It’s Father’s day.  My dad has passed on; my mom too.  I’ve just come from a family reunion.  Seen faces I’ve haven’t seen in centuries, well… decades, and through the wrinkles and grey hairs and crooked smiles, I’d recognize them anywhere.  Where have they been all these years?  Living.  I lived too.  Though many years have passed, time has whizzed by like a noiseless carousel… up and down, forward and backward, stops and starts.

It’s time for the music to begin again.  I can hear it in the distance.  Yes, that sounds like Chris laughing; Lisa is brewing up some blueberry jelly.  Like a hastily compiled old-time cartoon, the faces blur by with a hint of familiarity.  Yes, there’s Jim; I’d know his profile anywhere.  And that one is Bruce, the Groucho Marx of our family.  There’s Connie wrapped in a new afghan!  Yes, I remember now.  But do I?

Reminiscing.  Come join me.

Shalom.