Different Kind of Day

Our Location Today is Tecumseh, Ontario, Canada.

Today started out busy with me doing the laundry while Kathy vacuumed the apartment. Right after lunch we had to bring Kathy's computer to the computer techs at SX-Video who are really top notch and know what they are doing. Last night suddenly Kathy announced something was wrong with her PC. All the icons were disappearing. Darn Virus! We'll wait to pick it up on Thursday so we can finish other things. After a trip to the locksmith for some keys we stopped at the trailer so we could empty all its goodies out of the truck.

Finally at home I looked at my computer for the first time today. Was I ever surprised at the response that we received from yesterdays post. We had received ten comments acknowledging the truth behind what I had written. My reason for my somber (to me) post was reading posts where people are working towards their goal of travelling only to have it dashed by the sudden illness or death of one of their spouses. There are also some bloggers who have had the misfortune of loosing children adding to the sense of loss. Some bloggers experiencing the loss of their beloved fur kids which can be as tramatic as the loss of family members because in fact they are part of the family and most times are treated like children themselves.

My post was written from the heart and not just an absent rambling. It is also not the first time someone has written about how once we have lost a moment it can never be regained. One of the Comments I received from Nancy from Travels With Mr. Nimble not only related a personal message but also included an article written by Robert J. Hastings.

I have decided to post it here as it was put in a different perspective but definitely reinforced exactly what I was trying to say. So here are the words written by Robert J. Hastings.

Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision in which we see ourselves
on a long journey that spans an entire continent. We're traveling by train and, from the
windows, we drink in the passing scenes of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at
crossings, of cattle grazing in distant pastures, of smoke pouring from power plants, of row
upon row upon row of cotton and corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of city skylines and
village halls.But uppermost in our conscious minds is our final destination--for at a certain hour and on a
given day, our train will finally pull into the station with bells ringing, flags waving, and bands
playing. And once that day comes, so many wonderful dreams will come true. So restlessly, we
pace the aisles and count the miles, peering ahead, waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"Yes, when we reach the station, that will be it!" we promise ourselves. "When we're
eighteen. . . win that promotion. . . put the last kid through college. . . buy that 450SL
Mercedes-Benz. . . have a nest egg for retirement!"
From that day on we will all live happily ever after.

Sooner or later, however, we must realize there is no station in this life, no one earthly
place to arrive at once and for all. The journey is the joy. The station is an illusion--it
constantly out distances us. Yesterday's a memory, tomorrow's a dream. So, gently close the door on yesterday and throw the key away. It isn't the burdens of today
that drive men mad, but rather regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and
fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, swim more rivers, climb more
mountains, kiss more babies, count more stars. Laugh more and cry less. Go barefoot oftener.
Eat more ice cream. Ride more merry-go-rounds. Watch more sunsets. Life must be lived as we
go along. The station will come soon enough.

Nancy also made this Comment:
I have posted this on several blogs it just seems to fit RVers. It was Rich's favorite piece and he had it hung on the wall of our office, and he sent it to all of our clients. Truer words never spoken. I lost my husband suddenly and unexpectedly as we closed in on retirement. Fortunately, we had a motorhome and traveled in the summers the last 5 years of his life. Everything changed for ever in a split second, and you're right you can't get time back.

Thanks for reminding everyone. I've often said, don't take even a second with your soul mate for granted not a second.

Both Kathy and I would like to Thank Nancy for sharing this very personal part of her life with us. Remember to tell those that matter most how much you love them and enjoy every second you can.

It's about time.