This weekend I happily played the role of chauffeur to and from Newark International Airport.
On Saturday I dropped off my in-laws for a week-long stay in Colorado, and on Sunday I picked up a dear friend returning from a pleasurable trip to Germany. Different airlines; different terminals; same lousy airport to try and navigate through.
This coming and going is probably insignificant to most – as traveling across the country or across the globe is not an infrequent occurrence for business or recreational purposes.
But for some reason, on this particular weekend, I began to look at things a little more metaphorically.
My chauffeur services reminded me just how often people come and go from our lives.
It’s a sad reality, but nothing stays the same in life – change is just about the only thing you can count on with great certainty and speed. But this coming and going also reminded me of something I wrote 13 years ago entitled “A Silent Poet” – something that seems quite appropriate for the post you’re reading right now.
We knew this day would come, though we never dreamed so soon.
Your plane leaves in an hour, as the clock strikes half past noon.
I must gather my composure, how I pray these tears subside.
I rely on your around me, that it hurts to say goodbye.
Then within a flash, I’m taken back, to the memories we once shared.
A silent poet standing there.
Life is a lot like my weekend – people coming in and going out through a revolving door. But what truly matters is what you do with the time they are here. Whether people are in your lives for 5 days or 5 years, make the most of the time you’re given because one day it just may hurt to say goodbye.
