Bear with me friends. My computer is being wonky so I'm writing on a tablet. That's not such a big deal if you are under 30 but I am almost 41 and from the only quasi computer generation.
The thing I am thinking most about today is change. Recently, I got word that my alma mater is closing its doors after 130 years of existence. Virginia Intermont College was a small private college and I was fortunate enough to get there via scholarship. I graduated in 1995 and it has been a while since I last visited. It makes sense on paper. Times at hard for small private schools. They could not keep enrollment up. My mind justifies the facts of change, but my heart grieves. I met Sam there. Geeks that we were, we met in the library. We courted there. We announced our engagement there. We are each other's best college souvenir.
Last year, another old haunt slipped away. I spent many summers working as a camp counselor at Buffalo Mountain Camp. I worked with so many little ones, grew so much myself and discovered God alive and well in the tranquility of the mountain. I left the mountain confident of its endurance. And then there was an enormous mudslide and the camp was no longer able to function. My mind understands the concept of natural phenomenon, but my heart grieves.
I know it is ok to mourn change but I also know the perils of staying put. Isaac's cognitive differences have kept us in the world of Veggie Tales and Barney well into his 15th year. The absence of change brings a stale stagnant reality. In many ways, we are stuck while everyone else travels on around us.
I remember when each of Isaac's siblings passed him up developmentally. I was of course thrilled that they were developing typically and growing like they should. And yet, I mourned. I told myself that I. Pruned for Isaac but in reality I simply mourned for myself. Isaac has little social awareness, a rare advantage of severe autism. He was, is and always will be fine with himself. I mourned that I would not get to experience the usual adventures and changes of life with him. My head knows that we have had different adventures and still will. Yet, my heart sometimes mourns.
I love you sweet friends...