Tempus fugit, sicut nubes, quasi naves, velut umbra.

Our last day in Weimar was lazy. We wandered the cobbled roads. We meandered through the city museum. The museum was an old building converted to a memorial to the history of these people in this space spanning time. Showcasing the good, the bad, and the evil those cobbled stones felt.  We shivered in the rain and cold. We bought gifts for those we missed. And continued our nightly routine of dinner at the table and drinks at the couch discussing life, experiences, and relationships. Though lazy, the day still sped by like all life does. The years tic on by even when the day is long and lazy.

Time escapes like

Time’s cadence keeps all us wayward children moving. Every cell in the body fills the empty from one moment to the next. And here we are, older, farther away from memory.

Many years ago, I became fascinated with the notion of time. What is time? Can we stop time? I tried, or at least tried to slow it. And now I have memories of those moments where time slowed for me.

• When my baby sighed.
• When my heart cried.
• When my friend died.
• When my son spied.
• When my eye vied.
• When my soul shied.

When, with all that is in me, I held the moment tightly. But moments are not bound by human will. And time continues with every heartbeat, with every breath, with every pulsing of electron and proton. My study into this elusive yet daily experience yielded nothing new. I cannot stop time, unless I die. I cannot change the rate of time, unless I break laws of physics. I cannot hold time anymore than I can quell an atom.

a cloud,

And like the evanescent morning mist that clings to my trees, time escapes from me. The boys and I pack up to catch the train back to Frankfurt. We clean up our home away from home. Thankful for the couple that was willing to share their old building on Paul Schneider Strasse with a momma trying to stay close to her growing boys and those boys trying to escape the fold of their momma to fly the wild expanse fueled by time.

like ships,

In our travels back to Frankfurt, we talk about what we learned, what we enjoyed, what we missed, and what our next adventure holds. I video moments of the train ride moving through the German countryside. Watching a culture swish by and realized we only saw a small portion of what this country has to offer.

Our evening was simple. We found a restaurant and planned our morning. Two of us were leaving on a plane for yet our second foreign land, while the third was going to spend a day in Frankfurt alone before heading back to responsibilities and life that awaited him in our desert land.

Morning came so soon to leave my oldest son alone in a foreign land and take the middle one to a divided land. We said our goodbyes, twice. Maybe three times. And made our way to a train that whisked us to the airport. My son and I wandered the place looking for our gate. And security areas to determine it was fine for us to leave one foreign place to land in another foreign place.

Surely, we are all foreigners on this earth.

We board our plane.

like a shadow.

It was like a dream now, our time in that green country of Germany. Like a wistful dream. And the three of us to this day smile that we actually got to go and experience a new place. But the place remains in the shadow of yesterday, last week, last month.

Like a decade ago. When my daughter lived near me and my boys were building imagination and memories. When my husband swept me off my feet. When friends filled our home and family our hearts. When life was good. And bad. When I acted good and kind, in grace and mercy towards my family. And when I was not.

And we remember what imprints deep. Wandering the cold cobblestones in Weimar looking for a good German restaurant to warm up with gluhwein. And finding an Italian one with bad fish soup. We were cold, tired, hungry and got turned away from several restaurants. The Texas one was closed. The cool bar one had an hour wait. Couldn’t find that other one.

Life is like this. We wander around wondering if we are on the right track. Sometimes God whispers this way or that way. Sometimes He lets you choose. We wander through different places to see if it is what we want. Sometimes it isn’t what we want. Then we are left with a bad taste and a place for tons of grace.

Tempus fugit, sicut nubes, quasi naves, velut umbra.

In my mind’s eye, I claw and cry and cling to a time past that is no longer mine to hold. All that is left to do is enjoy what memories bring joy, forgive what memories bring pain, and give grace in those memories that are awkward and hard. Lots of grace. Lots of forgiveness. Lots of joy.

I watched my boys interact on that trip, like they did when they were little. I found quantum tunneling because in that moment I was present in that German town and I was sent years into the past in the space of my two boys.

Stop this moment by being aware of the sounds of the surroundings, the scents of this sphere, the sight of space, the stirring of storms, the savoring the spell, the sensitivity of the spirit. Stop this moment by living GRACE. In gratitude, time changes. Slows for imprinting the memory. Speeds to prevent scars from penetrating deep.

It is living a life of merciful kindness that time becomes of safe and solid friend.

Time escapes like a cloud, like a ship, like a shadow.

Home now from our travels. All my children find their own relationships and I am just another experience for them. I carried them. Inside for a time. Breath in and out, Grace. As long as I could with my Mobi and arms. Breath in and out, Grace. In my heart forever. Breath in and out, Grace. They smile at me.

Breath in slowly drinking the seconds as they pass. Breath out even slower releasing those hurts that built up.

Grace.