We're getting old honey...

Last night as Belinda and I stood in our driveway waving goodbye to Derek and Camila...the truth hit me again. I'm getting old.

The first time I remember waving goodbye to someone...and really hating to see them go...was when we lived on the hill in Roundup. Janet and her husband David had come to visit from Mankato, Minnesota, where he attended seminary. At the time, I had no idea where Mankato was. It seemed like it was on the other side of the moon. Having driven there a time or two from Bismarck, it is a long ways away...but even longer if you were driving from Roundup to Mankato.

Anyway, I remember standing there waving goodbye with the rest of my family. I had a little tear in my eye as my oldest sister left us again after too short a visit.

Jump ahead a few years to when our kids were little and we were the ones visiting my folks in Roundup or Belinda's folks in Glendive. Now it was me packing the luggage and the kids in the car and heading east...always east. I have always liked traveling west better. I didn't care if the setting sun was in my eyes for the last 100 miles of the trip, or even if I hit every bug between Forsyth and Roundup, I liked heading west the best.

And yet at the end of every visit, there was always that time when Grandma and Grandpa would come outside and wave goodbye to us.

Now yesterday it was Belinda and I staying home and Derek and Camila leaving. But not before I got a couple of nice hugs from Derek and we had eaten some apple pan dowdy.

Yet, I still had a tear in my eye and the thought -- that visit was just too short. Nothing had changed in 40 years.

This morning in the funny papers, read the "Family Circle." One of the kids has curled up in his mother's lap and says "Thank goodness we're not too old for hugs."

Amen and amen.

This Thursday my brother Randy and his family are coming for a visit. I already know it's going to be too short. And I'm not looking forward to waving goodbye. I miss them already and they haven't even arrived yet.

And then I look at Grandpa. How many times has he waved goodbye. When my mom was dying, he slept in a bed next to mom's hospital bed and held her hand night after night...until the morning of June 19, 2006, when she left Roundup for heaven. That's the goodbye that is going to be the toughest.

Whoops, I'm tearing up again. Well, all we can do is make our welcomes all the more cheery and the time we spend together the best we can.