“Even a vapor…” So describes the human life by James in his New Testament writings. “But a mist…” is another interpretation of the original Greek text. We are the “fog” of which Sandburg would later write; and perhaps we too arrive at times on “little cat feet.”
Another year has passed and we are a week into the new. Actually, I write this with almost two days remaining and you will read it that aforementioned time later. Yes, this confuses me as well.
Several recent foggy mornings are a part of my inspiration; as are updated card lists. I like purchasing and sending cards. For holidays. For special occasions. For no reason at all, save to perhaps brighten someone’s day.
I have lists of intended recipients. Lists that at this time of year, I edit. I change addresses to mark someone’s relocation. A new job. Graduation from school. A marriage. Some new adventure in life.
And I have names that I remove. Names of friends and family that have passed on. I prefer the phrase “passed on” to the more succinct “passed.” Just as I favor the old term “go ahead on” as to, again, the shorter “go ahead.”
The addition of the preposition “on,” to me at least, reflects there is a destination. As to the encouragement or direction to “go ahead on,” I sense there is the inclusion of the journey’s fulfillment. An expected and anticipated arrival.
The same of someone’s leaving this mortal world. “Passed” indicates they have died. “Passed on” to me recognizes they have also arrived. Hopefully in Heaven. For many I know this with assurance. The lost sleep comes from those of which I am not sure.
Not that it is ever for me to judge; it is just when I have no knowledge of their ever accepting and obeying as we are clearly instructed. It is the ignorance and doubt that are so fearful. Updating this mailing list is often hard.
Was really hard this year. Edits included a parent. A close friend. Someone from childhood I had not visited for years. A few that had already “drifted away” from my life. Guilt over the degree to which the fault is mine.
All reminders of that metaphorical “mist.” That vapor that so easily can be blown from our lives with what seems like often the very least of winds. And when it is gone, what remains?
If we have obeyed, a soul in a beautiful new home. Here---I am not so sure. Children? Grandchildren? A legacy of creation and inspiration? A history of strong traditions?
It is not for us to see into the future. Visits from spirits that reveal “what is yet to come” happen only in old literature and vivid imaginations. Much like peering into the fog, we can at best make educated guesses.
I like watching the fog come in, cat feet or no. Like watching it clear off and reveal what I think I know to be there. On familiar ground, my expectations are fairly accurate. Still oddly reassuring.
When fishing a new part of a lake; watching the fog roll back is akin to opening wrapped presents. As fragments of the topography are revealed; my guesses become more accurate. I am often pleasantly surprised.
By studying vapors, maybe I hope to better understand life. Mine. That of others. Not sure. It is a vivid reminder of the brevity and fragility of our physical beings. A great prompt to truly make every day and every moment count.
