“In every age “the good old days” were a myth. No one ever thought they were good at the time. For every age has consisted of crises that seemed intolerable to the people who lived through them. ”
― Brooks Atkinson
(Troup County, Georgia / Julie Cook ? 2014)
Is it merely human nature to yearn for times past, memories past, experiences past?
Is the present simply too trying, too frightening, too demanding, too challenging, too real?
Is the future too far away, too uncertain, too unknown, too beyond?
It is to that which is surely known, that which was lived, not imagined which is grounding.
It is to that which was experienced and survived which is now oddly comforting.
It is to those persons who have come and gone to whom we turn our hearts.
Missing what was, struggling with what is, looking with trepidation for what will be.
Despite reluctance or resistance, we are creatures always moving forward—such is the nature of life.
We may look back, but may not travel back.
We have but today–yet struggle through it.
We look toward tomorrow hoping for that which is better.
We live in a state of constant flux and motion.
Trashing in the waters of time, fighting against continual currents of the seasons of our lives which sweep us back and forth.
Taking that which is old, dusty and broken. . . mending it and making it new. . .that is the promise, that is the hope, that is the salvation.
It is the expanse of a bridge which leads from then, to now, to what will be.
Sound, sturdy and unbreakable under the flood waters of life.
The life-line has been cast toward you.
It requires only that you reach and take hold.
That which was, remains in the rushing waters–as you cross the bridge to what will be
And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. (Rev 21:5 KJV)
Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
Isaiah 43:18-19 NRSV Catholic Edition