I have been thinking a great deal about anniversary lately. Maureen and I celebrated 16 years of marriage earlier this month. Saturday was the ninth anniversary of the death of my father and the second anniversary of the death of Uncle Bill.
A year ago today, we returned home from the Holy Land after ten days with young adults walking in the footsteps of our Lord, reading Scripture, studying the landscape and the people.
Two years ago today, the family was in Paris. It was the first day of a three-week adventure and someone (me) had signed us up for an eight hour walking tour of the city. It looked like a great idea and the guide had rave reviews, but who knew that it would be 100 degrees in Paris that day and I would catch a stomach bug (try finding a bathroom in Paris, I dare you)? After 27,000 steps and the traumatizing of at least one child I dragged into the bathroom (who would refuse a child who needed to go?), we collapsed at the un-air conditioned apartment we had rented while the children plotted a coup against their father.
Twenty three years ago this week, my dad and I were in Rome and, having just met Pope John Paul II, we set off to the catacombs. I remember our bishop asking if the afternoon visit to the tombs would be anti-climatic, having just hung out with the Holy Father. “After this morning,” my dad replied, “the rest of my life will be anti-climatic.”
I have an app on my phone that shows “photos from this day in history.” Sometimes, it is really neat to see how the kids have grown and to remind us what was happening. Other times, I stare at the picture and wonder what happened to that younger, thinner man I used to be.
The summer doldrums have set in and the children have begun to realize we will not be going to the Jersey Shore this year. I did convince them to take a break from electronics today and paint or draw or, heaven forbid, do some summer reading or their respective math packets. It’s 100 degrees outside, so I suggested we repeat our death march through the town but, not surprisingly, no one raised a hand.
I pray your summer is restful. I pray you and yours are healthy. Mostly, I pray for a return to some semblance of normalcy and a vaccine to keep this virus at bay.
Stay well this week and let us continue to pray for one another.