Just Passing Through

Just Passing Through

John Paul Derryberry

I could see through the window that our fire had dwindled to where I would have to make a choice. Either I would let the fire slowly burn out or refuel it in hopes of taking in one last night of vacation before returning to work on Monday. We had just laid our youngest down to sleep, but our oldest, a little over three, proved she had some staying-up-late powers on this trip. I looked at her, smiled, and said, want to go back to the fire? A quick, yes, came from my wide-eyed daughter as we skipped down to the fire with marshmallows in our hands.

After my wife taught our little lady how to roast a marshmallow, she was off to bed. My wife asked if I would be up, and I said, in a little bit. I wanted to linger in this spot for a moment. It was a beautiful moment on a point between two lakes, a fire roaring, one daughter in a dream world after a great day, another happy daughter with marshmallow face off to bed, and me realizing I'd probably never occupy this space again. It wasn't a sad feeling that I probably would never lay eyes on a scene like this again. It was life is good and I'm glad I passed through this spot, type of feeling.

In reality, that's the big lie we all convince ourselves of, that anything is permanent. It's all temporary, the amount of time we get with people, places, movements, varies from seconds to years, but it's all temporary. So, in essence, we are all just passing through. We don't really permanently own anything. Even the large items like houses get sold again. So we make a mistake because we think we hold more than we really do and aren't just borrowing from time flow.

Maybe, just maybe, if we adopted the notion that we were just passing through, we would be kinder to each other, the planet, and enjoy the moments that make life special. Rarely, when we adopt the mantra of I'm just passing through do we mistreat the landscape, the resources around us, or the humans we come in contact with. We almost knowingly become caretakers because we want to leave it better than we found it; after all, we are just passing through. It seems odd we are so ruthless over stuff that won’t matter in a week, a year, a decade.

I get the idea of thinking stuff will last forever; it allows us to not have to engage emotionally. But to think little moments don't add up to big moments is to cause a false sense of security that life isn't really passing by. It is, it always is. That's why as I walked up to tuck my little one into bed, I threw one last log on the fire. I may be just passing through, but I'm not done with this moment. I'm going to soak it in; I probably won't be in it ever again. I shouldn't waste the opportunity because just like me, this moment is just passing through. I’d like to enjoy it’s company as long as possible.