Last Saturday night I was one of the many thousands of spectators at the Georgia Dome watching the finals portion of the Atlanta Regional Bands of America marching band competition. Yes, I am a band nerd. Not because of personal experience but by virtue of giving birth to two percussionists resulting in many hours of chaperoning or lugging heavy equipment on and off the field. Their hard work and dedication helped lay the foundation that saw their alma mater miss first place by only 1 point. It was a wonderful moment and I was excited to be there to witness it.
Band was more than just an extracurricular activity in our house. It was the shared life experience that God used to add heart children to our home, some more permanently than others. And sadly, it was the choosing against family that saw the departure of those same heart children, embarking our famiy on the journey we travel still today.
In the tiny book, "Experiencing Grief", H. Norman Wright writes, "Saying good-bye is one of the significant tasks of grieving. It begins with accepting the reality of your loss, working through your pain, adjusting to life without your loved one, withdrawing your emotional energy from this person and reinvesting it elsewhere, and finally, changing the relationship with your loved one from one of presence to one of memory. And saying good-bye is part of the concluding process."
Which brings me to the point I'm trying to make. In "Ruthless Trust", Brennan Manning writes, "The music of what is happening...that is the finest music in the world. The music of what is happening can be heard only in the present moment, right now, right here. Preoccupation with the yesterdays and tomorrows of life to the neglect of now/here - Nowhere - is not living at all."
And so as I drove away from the Dome, I said goodbye in my heart, even as I looked ahead to the adventure before us, yet realizing that true life will lie in Nowhere, the now and here.