Perspective

This morning, the two most precious people in my life drove out of my driveway and will be thousands of miles away by tomorrow. Another visit with my aged parents has ended; another time of sharing and remembering has passed. And once again the question looms large in my mind: Will I ever see them again?

At Wal-Mart, displays reach floor to ceiling with ever more unnecessary stuff, packaged attractively for giving to ungrateful children, backstabbing co-workers, and gossiping relatives. Buyers max out credit cards and amass mountains of debt.

Next week, I will eat alone and sit in my house without companionship. I will have no intelligent discussions about current events, life, or personal philosophy. My parents will not walk with me to the pasture, bright eyed, to watch the feeding of the llamas. There will be no feet shuffling through the dry autumn leaves beside me. There will be no one to have tea with in the evenings.

I get thirty spam emails a day coaching me to buy gadgets I don’t need, movies I won’t watch and clothes I won’t wear. The words ‘sale’ and ‘easy payment plan’ scream in loud letters from the screen. 

My ninety year old mother and my eighty-six year old father are once again braving the trip across the ocean because they had to come see their only daughter who lives too far away and is home-bound with her sick child year-in and year-out. We cherished our time together and – as always – it seemed far too short.

All across the country folks are gearing up for Black Friday, to spend money they don’t have on goods they don’t need and to knock people out of the way to get them. They camp out in front of stores and trample down store clerks, eyes blazing with greed and fingers posed for grasping. Have you ever needed anything that badly?

My parents spoke soft goodbyes to my crippled son, hearts touched by one of his rare, sweet smiles. We all wept when we hugged, knowing how limited the time is we have left together; knowing also that there is nothing more precious than the love of family, the deep, lasting, all encompassing love between parents and child.

I waved until they vanished from view and let the tears fall freely. Cats gathered around me, rubbing against my legs for comfort. For a while, my parents’ spirit and scent will linger in the house before fading. I am again alone in the world with wishes for a thousand more years of memories. My parents are my link to the past and to my home country, a link now thinning again gradually to a thread, kept alive only by email.

I am mindful that time stops for no one and possessions don’t matter.