At least that is what they say.  It seems every year this time of year has me hopelessly longing for home.  Some of you may not know that I grew up in Alaska.  This particular time of year is special in Alaska.  If it has been a mild winter, it is finally starting to warm up.  By the beginning of April, the snow is melting and the sun is shining.

I used to sit in Biology class and stare out the big glass windows.  The warm afternoon looked so inviting.  The air is still crisp, but the sun warm on your face.   Back in the day, we had open campuses in the high schools.  We’d pile into whoever’s car was handy and drive to some fast food joint.  Personal pan pizzas were the newest rage at Pizza Hut.

I was watching “Men in Trees” this morning.  It isn’t the best show on television, but they show a lot of scenes of what looks a like home.  Sometimes it looks so familiar it makes my heart hurt. 

The truth is though, it isn’t home that I’m longing for.  What I miss doesn’t exist any more.  The carefree days of no responsibility.  Of sun drenched snow banks calling to me from the clean fresh air.  Boys driving too fast and girls wearing sun dresses and snow boots.  It’s the past that calls to me.  Happy wonderful memories.

It’s easy to get bogged down in the details.  The day to day routine that fills our time and uses our energy.  The bills, the kids, the laundry.  Oh the laundry.  Someone has soccer practice.  Another has papers to grade. But the moment is all that we have.  This very moment that we are living in.  When the moment ends, you might never have another opportunity to regain the love, the hurt, the sadness, the happiness that you had in that moment.

In an instant, something so unexpected can change everything in your life.  Will you wish you graded those papers?  Will you wonder if you should have worked an extra hour last week at the office?  Will you be sad that you couldn’t buy that new pair of shoes?

If this was your last moment, how would you spend it?

RIP Joel.  We’ll miss you.