Reception Reflections, Kylee and Daniel, August 2015

 setting: an LDS multi-purpose room, anywhere

Oh the brothers and sisters can celebrate! The women are magnificent, powerful, ethereal, their divine futures peeking through. Sandra glides, floats, shines. The men are solid, well-muscled, disciplined, sharp. Doug, polished, precise, in uniform. Doug has his station nailed, the liquid is handled. 

In Idaho, be nowhere in the heat without liquid. Dallas is surrounded by generations, beaming, holding court. Ashton is confidence itself, patiently waiting. All this is his oyster too, now to smile, soon to do. Jacob moves sharply, smoothly, glides and skitters through the crowd. Black, white, and vertical black suspenders, nothing gray or passive. Cassidy is fierce and focused, dancing, dancing, dancing some more. Turning circles, eyes up, drawn to the chandelier. Minette is perfect Minette, no detail unattended, in command, My eyes follow her around the room, waiting for my orders, waiting for her to tell me where I might be needed, how I can help, what to do. 

I'm a floater, no assignments, ready. I know how this works, each part. I stand still and the celebration flows around me. I have been in the thick of it. I have eaten cake, I have been fed cake. I imagine what people are feeling, at least generally, I read the faces watch them interact with each other. I look at each person, every table, hardly moving, not difficult if one is tall. The father, Adam, everywhere. I talk with the bride in occasional eddies, so much wonderful, so happy, so beautiful. The funnel through which the future flows. And then the mystery to me so far, Daniel. Oh dear Lord, he is an island of calm purpose at his own wedding, a man who does, a man for whatever season comes. I don't really need any more information. 

Some faces project easily into lives unlived. Times that do not exist but will exist. Unique lives discovering all of life's dimensions again for the very first time. Making it all up, passing it all on. Saying good-by. Stepping aside. Relearning everything we worked so hard to figure out. Sliding into holes, tripping over rocks we cannot tell them about. It's a game I play, seeing lives flowing out into the future, knowing the territory, knowing sorrow and grief, knowing love, first love, true love, having children, grandchildren. So what if I mix up people's futures in my imagination? All the roles get filled, all the time. i took my turn being responsible for the world, making things happen, moving, shaking, striking fear, taking things seriously. 

Now I play the grandfather's part I remember from childhood, another fun time, every bit as good as being twelve, on the good days anyway. On the bad days just keep moving, one foot and then the other, do what must be done. Twelve and knowing how it works. Twelve and dancing. Simply stay on my feet, keep moving, my entire plan. Work is good for you, relaxing kills you. The body responds as long as you keep shoveling. Do not slow down. 

Children of mine all, listen. God is always. He's fine. You are fine with Him. Nothing to do, necessarily. Smiling is good. God can make it all seem without effort, like He's doing nothing at all. A good quality to emulate, effortlessness. God is there for me, has been for all my people, as far back as time goes, will be there as long as it takes. We love you all so very much. Pay attention. The big decisions are the one's you hardly notice at the time. Things rarely appear without warning. Yes, everyone else is watching the jolly circus, focused on the clown in that impossibly tall hat. Pay attention.

Originally posted on Facebook where it will lie entombed for time unknowable.