The fading sunlight on the wall...

...Aunt Fanny's desk in the entry hallway... Grandma Bess's bench serving as a coffee table of sorts before my couch... Nana's table and sideboard in the dining area... Jugs from the barn, found after granddaddy died... Grandma Mastin's teapot... Candlestick on my mantel that sat on the organ in the living room of the old house for years beyond count... Anne E. (Bullard) Pemberton's books upon the mantel too (and now for how many years upon years lying lonely behind Richardsville Methodist Church)... Memories swirl and the realization of how fast time speeds by, and the challenge:  can I help my children know and love people they've never known?  Can I help them treasure memories they've not shared in?  I love my Aunt Annie, though she died long before I was born.  My mom brought her to life for me.  She literally lived from her wise sayings.  Same with Cousin A.  But have I done the same to my children?  Do they know their grandfather who died long before they were born? Or their grandmother who is at most a memory from pictures when they were little?  I think of it much now as Lauren and Dean and the baby prepare to remove to North Carolina.  The thought of the parting weighs heavier by the day.  I try not to think of it too much.  Yet it's always there.  Joy for them, and yet grief and sadness for the fewness of the days we will have together henceforth.  Such is life, and yet it is life in a fallen world.  For in the world as it was meant to be, there were no goodbyes.  I am so thankful for the gift of prayer - by it even those far away are held near and dear each day.  And it is not bordered by death for we speak to Him in Whom death itself is abolished.  Memories swirl... and I hope for making of memories yet to come.  And the light on the wall has all but disappeared.