upon my daughter’s confirmation…
Maybe half the game was being aware – of this day and my daughter’s words and my mother-in-law’s presence and my wife’s grass-green dress and the minister’s red stole and the pianist who played a pre-service melody that charmed tears from my aging eyes and the chatter of family and relatives and friends and the cross draped in white linen high and lifted up above us all and those three candles on the communion table that could have represented Father, Son, and Holy Spirit or possibly Faith, Hope, and Love, but I have to tell you that for me for today those three candles stood for a father’s plea: Time, stand still. But time refused and maybe that’s half the game too, being aware of the passing of time and enjoying it as it passes because it does you know, and passing the time well may be just about the most holy thing we do in this vale for on that day someday when we hope to hear at least some variation of Well done my hunch is that it won’t be for our accomplishments or trophies or accolades in any way but it may very well be for the way we sat still on days like today and listened to our daughters both recite a creed and renounce an evil they have little context for as of yet but they will grow into as we have…and our sitting still confirmed once more among a May-dayed creation that yes, we belong to this world with all its flickering grandeur and yes, we belong to this time with all its fleeting beauty and yes, we belong to this day as do our daughters because there is a grace that keeps this world and holds us close as seasons pass. Amen.
Oh.My.Goodness, John – this is so lovely. Achingly so. And I love both pictures. Confirmation Sunday is always a highlight of the year for me – and I used to love teaching those students, too. Thanks for writing about this.
Thanks, Diana…its was a very good day.
GOD’s blessing on your lovely daughter. Such a beautiful tribute for her day and not many writers could pen so many thoughts into two sentences.
Thank you, Connie…
with this…I melt into a puddle of sweet melancholy.
with those words…I melt into a puddle of sweet melancholy.
Thanks for stopping by, Ann…sorry it left you a puddle, but I was puddled first, trust me.
yes. exactly incredibly yes.
Deb, thanks for taking a moment to read and comment.
So beautifully written, and so very, very well said!
Hi, April…thank you very much.
Wish we could have been there with you all!
Dad and Mom
Dad and Mom, I wish the same…love, J
Amen.
Thank you, Jean…that one word speaks volumes.
My my. After the passing, the heart finds its way to remembrance and to being arrested again. Rejoicing with those who rejoice, as I’m doing now, John, is a most pleasant way to pass the time.
Laure, thank you for rejoicing with us…it means something quite profound.