I love photographs as much as I love words. The two complement each other so well, and yet they can also stand alone and sometimes should remain independent. I certainly agree that a picture can be worth a thousand words, although I would add that likewise a word can be worth a thousand pictures.
As I close out the sixth evening I have spent at my parents' house, the words to describe how I am feeling seem elusive. I couldn't have imagined that my visit four years ago would take so long to follow up with another trip. I wouldn't have believed that my youngest would be almost three and a half before he saw Big Sky Country for the first time. And now that the days are swiftly slipping through my fingers like Montana dirt, I find myself caught in the bittersweet place of trying to enjoy every moment and soak it all in without fretting that it will be over far too soon and feel like a distant dream within a few short days of getting back into the home routine.
I don't know what the future holds for my parents -- where they may be in a year, how well they will be in a handful of years, when I will have to deal with the parting of their physical bodies from this temporal world. I have been reflecting on how much they have done for me, what wonderful people they are, how my children admire and adore them, and the fact that they cannot live forever. One day, which will seem all too soon no matter how far away it may be, I will have to say good-bye for the last time on this Earth. They would both tell you that they look forward to that day with hope and readiness, no fear and no looking back. I won't ever be ready, but I will be able to rejoice for them because their pain, suffering, hard work, and worldly worries will be over, and they will hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
At that time, I probably won't be able to find many words, but I will have pictures. I'm already treasuring the ones I've taken in just five days, and I have a feeling my children will treasure these in years to come as well.
A good friend and I met up by divine intervention and had two of our three flights into Montana together. I was excitedly traveling to see my parents, but she was traveling back home after an emotionally difficult funeral for a beautiful young lady who died quite unexpectedly in a tragic accident. She has reminded her friends and family to hold loved ones close while we can.
One day words and pictures will be all we have left this side of heaven, and they can help us remember, laugh, grieve, and hope. May we never lose hope.
