Last week, I talked about how change was the only true constant in life. I am reminded daily just how true that is. Consider the following.
About four weeks ago (I could have sworn it was only two, but I checked and it was four), I received an email from my youngest son, Matt, who happens to be the father of my only grandchild, Abigail. Attached was a video of Abigail taking her first steps. Wow! I thought, she’s started walking! I watched in amazement as my petite granddaughter tottered toward her mother, Stacy, in halting steps, two, then three at a time. Tears of joy ran down my face. In the background, strains of I’m Walking, the 1957 Fats Domino song, provided the perfect accompaniment to a seminal moment that would last forever—or so I thought.
But this past Thursday evening, those memories were rendered virtually passé when my wife, Becky, and I were treated to a FaceTime™ video call with Matt and Abigail. Things had changed again. No longer was my darling granddaughter stumbling and tripping her way around the living room. This little girl was walking, jumping, and bending over like she’d been doing it from the date of her birth. She had changed—again!
But that’s not the end of it. Next weekend Becky and I will travel to Charlotte, NC, to visit both my sons and their wives to celebrate three birthdays: Matt’s and mine, which recently passed; and that of my eldest son David, which is upcoming. Minor changes, I’ll grant you, but changes nevertheless. But we won’t be staying at David and Robin’s old house, where we have stayed for the last eight or nine years. Why? Because their address has—repeat after me—changed! Instead, we’ll be seeing their new house for the very first time. Oh, and Robin has a new job. More change. The hits just keep on coming. So we’ll do what we well-adjusted adults always do: we’ll hang on to our hats, take deep breaths, and accept the changes and all that accompany them. After all, how bad can it be? We’re still alive— and changing—and that’s a good thing! Right, Martha?
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