All That Matters

Yesterday, I posted pictures of our Maine summer and allowed my reluctance to leave to seep through my words. I have indulged this habit--to grieve before the loss. To miss this house, these shores, these spaces I've filled for the last three years, to miss them all even while I am still in their midst.

And in response to my nostalgia-marinaded post, my friend Deb (who is a poet and a red head--only two of the many reasons I adore her) commented:

that photo of you reading,
is priceless.
and timeless,
and could have been taken in , oh, Ohio even

And I have been thinking this, at every hour, at every turn around the road I ran this morning, that Deb is right.

There was also a time, I remind myself, when my favorite coastal running route was unfamiliar, when I'd never even seen the buoy mailbox that now doubles as a mile marker. There was a time when I knew nothing of the rocky shore, when I didn't want to leave the cobblestones of Alexandria, when Old Town's harbor seemed like the only suitable place to sip a double tall latte. But I should know this now. That there will be another road to run, another hidden gem of a coffee shop, another roof under which to snuggle and read and host tickle fights.

And all these "anothers" might be waiting for me in, oh, Ohio even.

The backdrop in the photos will change. Life will feel less familiar for a season.

But all that matters, I take with me.
(I'll say it again, because I need to hear it twice or maybe twenty times.)
I take with me all that matters.

Linking up this Bigger Picture Moment with the lovely ladies at Bigger Picture Blogs.