Making the most of the time

Moving sounds like a waste of precious time, especially since we are hopefully moving back to the lower 48 early next year. But it has already proved to be worth it. We moved out of the trailer we rented when Janessa moved in with us and into an apartment in a 4-plex. It is bright, the neighbors are nice (our last neighbors were too), we have a dishwasher, and my allergies are already better. Worth it!

We are in a precious time, looking at friends leaving (again), looking at leaving ourselves. Looking at last experiences before we move. Last Crab Fest. Last Kodiak summer. Last chance to do things on the mainland before we move. Time feels short and we are trying to make the most of it.

It is bittersweet. We are excited, restless, anxious to be close to family and friends in our other homes again. Eager for game nights with siblings, walks with parents, visits with dear elders, zoos with nieces. And we are sad to be leaving great coworkers, special workplaces, a wonderful community and favorite, beautiful mountains and beaches. We’ll miss the wildlife, the abundant eagles, the intimate community, our small groups, long summer days, Alaska fashion.

This is home, as much as anywhere on earth can be, and this is precious. So we try to number our days and we keep living, holding the tensions of conflicting longings and thanking God for the blessing of this time. For over six years here in Kodiak.

(If you wanted to visit us before we leave, get your plane tickets soon!)

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Throwback – Cycle of Innocence

Since I am lacking inspiration to write the last few days, please enjoy some writing from the past.  I may share more this way, later.  This was my first actual poem, written in 2006, reflecting on similarities between young children (like the ones I babysat and taught) and individuals with dementia (like the ones I visited and provided care for).

The innocence of childhood
the simplicity of soul,
Searching for the highest good
seeking to be made whole,
Wondering what life may hold
and what will be their role.

Naivety and candidness,
these pass as time goes by.
Replaced with some maturity
and sometimes also pride
Seasoned now with cynicism,
tempered as they’re tried.

Time passes and they’re young no more
as age their body claims.
To laugh, to play, sing and pretend
seems frivolous as games
Living now in past and present,
pondering lost aims.

Now enters life its final phase
when childhood returns.
Simplicity and innocence
and joy within them burns.
Eager anticipation for
their voyage to God’s arms

Copywrite Jonelle Liddell 2018