Sometimes I dream of going back.
Back to the way things were--the way relationships were.
In my mind I want to recapture the good things about the past and the people I was with.
There are places now, that sometimes I wish I could return to--but I know I cannot. I have changed and the people there have changed, too.
I think about summers growing up in Upstate New York. Running through the fields and riding my bike along the two-lane road that passed in front of my house. If only I knew then what I know now. I would hold fast to those hot, summer days and not wish I were anywhere else other than right there with the smells of the fields and the summer grasses and fruits and pines on the air.
While I wish it could be better than it was, I am sure it would be a catastrophe.
Last night, I was able to go back, briefly, as the member of a choir gathering to practice for a memorial service for a departed friend and the former Choir Director of the church I used to attend. It was good to see all of the other people who had left the church as well as those who still remain. I was nervous at the thought of returning because of the unresolved issues and broken relationships that contributed to my departure. But despite my concerns, the gathering was blessed, I could tell. There was a joyousness entwined within the sadness and grief of loss. We caught up with each others lives, and we smiled and we joked and we made music as a choir again all in memory of our friend. If only it could be now how it used to be . . .
And that really is the fallacy of trying to go back.
Nothing is ever the same--as much as we would like it to be perfect in our minds, it never really was perfect at that time and it is less so now that we know more.
So there is no going back! We move forward or not at all. But I am blessed with a warm memory rekindled by a reunion of sorts.
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