I had the need to go through some of my old documents the other day. Those pieces of paper that define us, that tell our story, those papers by which the State validates our existence and our journey through life. Having been married to some compulsive women and thanks to my mother I am fortunate enough to have most everything that validated my journey from birth to the present. I had a specific document in mind when I started, but before long that was lost in the remembrance both bitter and sweet that these pieces of pressed pulpwood brought forth.

   Like an old song, the smell of a favorite dish, or the particular feel of a given day I was being taken back down the road that I still travel.. It is a strange thing about traveling backwards in time. The trip is linear and there are no forks, no clouds and everything is clear and present, sharp and painful. At times it is soft and inviting to find that one particular memory and wrap yourself in it for the moment and then release it back to breeze that blows against us as we move forward. The road forward is is never downhill and there are innumerable forks. Unlike the road behind us the road forward cannot be glimpsed but at each step and the next step is just over the rise and cannot be seen. As humans we press on as long as we are able. Some lose strength and stop to rest, never to take the journey up again, only to become a piece of paper in the stack of memories to those that knew them.

   Strange how that search for a particularly important piece of paper morphed into a meditation yet once again on my life and the lives of those around me. Some still here and others resting under a shade tree farther back down the round than I care to think about, still visible, still able to be seen, but never met on the path we still walk. These meditations and memories serve to strengthen my resolve and bring me back to the path ahead. Too many times in the past few years I have been tempted to stop, to take seat for just a minute and rest. Maybe just to catch my breath and let my tired aching feet take a break.

   But I don't. I can't. I remember all of those who did that and will not see today, be in this moment, see the sunrise or set again. I am not being maudlin or morose. I am not morbidly obsessed with the loss of those once loved and held dear I am just living. I resolve to keep the gift given to me and from this moment and every moment going forward to cherish the gift and receive it as it was intended. For me to live, for me to experience and share. From now on I will not hold back and I will allow myself to receive the precious gift of each moment. I resolve also to share it...with someone, to allow love in and to allow love out to others. As I press on, behind me scattered in the wind are a stack of papers that mean nothing. They do not validate me...I do, my life does and believe it or not as you cross my path or walk with me for a while we will validate each other with gift that has been given us.