New Years. Birthdays. Christmas.
Milestone days. But, for me, the date that has the most milestone moments is our annual trip to the lake. Last week. Our week at the lake is the break in my year, the week where I analyze the year before and I look forward to the year to come. It’s a time where I reflect on what I wish I had done and plan to do better. It’s where I rejoice — over the birth of Samuel, over my children, over life. It’s where I remember.
The stones above I’ve wandered over every year. They mark the path between my cabin and my parents. I probably walk them a hundred times the week that I’m at the lake. I love looking at those rocks beneath my feet. I know that next year, when we return, those same stones will be there mixed with new stones from farther down the path. Perhaps not in the same order, but still there. In the same way, when we return, there will be new stories and chapters in my life. New milestones.
Life is a like a collection of stones. Some memories beautiful, some jagged and raw, some buried deep, and some events drifting to the side. Woven together they form an exquisite and unique path — a life.