The River of Life

Moss has found it's home between the boards of the deck. Raindrops cascade from the ivy which lines the fence. A mist fills the air. There is a current of water falling from the roof of the shed as the trees sway with life. I feel very still inside this silent house with the storm outside. A siren calls in the distance, the wind howls, and the leaves crackle. I find myself at Madison Street. Despite our insistence on it's persistence, home changes over time. Two cats are welcome where a feline has never tread. My brother's room is now my father's office. Our backyard has become a jungle of native plants. The Television, which was once only a conduit of video cassettes, has full cable streaming. The photos, which once contained only cousins and aunts and uncles, now have neices and nephews. The rain falls harder outside and I'm reminded that this life isn't a moment in time, but a flowing river, moving from one event to the next. When life is sweet, we hold onto the moments and make memories. Each remembrance is the hope that time will stop and honor the joy we have found. My grandma turns 80 tomorrow. She is now the steward of a lifetime of memories. I remember as a child, winding up a piano jewlery case that sang the song from "Cats" and Mimi would belt out the lyrics. As a dairy farmer's youngest daughter, a Navy stenographer in Pearl Harbor, and a elementary-school teacher, she has many stories to tell. We had a sing along with friends and family, to celebrate her life, and found the words we needed in the lyrics of "Moon River" and "As Time Goes By". As the stream of life flows on, I hope that I can bring the peace, joy, patience, and love which she brought to this world.