Last night when we got home from our New Years Eve Party, we were delighted to see that our daughters were home too. We gathered as a family and brought in the new year with a prayer given by our patriarch.
Afterwards, without really any words spoken, Miranda was snuggling on the couch with her dad. I was seated across from them on a chair and watched the sweet exchange. Clearly they were simply reveling in the moment of being together. At least that was my initial thought. Then here comes the silent scream. I understood. This was Miranda's last night at home. This was their last moment together for a very long time. Few words were spoken. They weren't needed.
I also realized that few words were spoken in order not to stir up tears that were very close to the surface. Especially for me as I watched and comprehended the significance of the moment.
Our lives are changing dramatically with the turn of the calendar. Today, January 1st, 2010, our final child is leaving us. We will commence rattling around in this big old empty house as we began 26 years ago; just Brian and I again. We are carrying more pounds, sporting more wrinkles, battling the aches and pains of age. We hardly resemble those fresh faces of yesteryear that attracted us to each other in the first place. Fortunately, we have come to recognize the qualities that are more important, qualities that bind us together with shared faith, shared love, shared family, shared purpose.
Here's to a new year. Here's to new challenges. Here's to new goals. Here's to new triumphs.
Here's to a beautiful new co-ed at BYU-Idaho. Rexburg, I am offering you my final gift. Be kind to her. Take her in gently. She will be one of your brightest gems.
Thanks for the beautiful photo, Derek.