Isn't it beautiful?

This is a street in Bernkastel Germany.  I fell in love with the cobblestone and the tall crooked buildings that lined the way.  It was a foggy day. No matter, it was still filled with hustle and bustle of the local shops.  I had to be patient to get this shot.  One without cars or people. Yes, cars. Of course only one car at a time could fit.  Never mind the car/people combination at times.  See the railing on the left?

I find I get lost in this picture.  Not sure why.  Maybe the way the road climbs into the foggy unknown.  Maybe the image of horse and carriages filling this road long before cars and delivery vans.  Maybe it's thinking about how these buildings were constructed hundreds and hundreds of years ago.  The amount of history that has taken place on these very roads.  Whatever the reason, this picture has been a calming image to me this week.

The journey between the past and the present is sometimes a long journey.  Who we are today is far different than the person we were 10, 20, 30 years ago.  Some of us change for the good.  Some of for the not so good.  Either way, our choices and experiences form us into the person we have become in the present.  Sometimes we get there without any big life changing event - it's just who we become.  Some of us take chances and make choices  that give us experiences that we would never have had if we didn't take that chance. Others may have dramatic things happen, both positive or negative, that cause them to make certain choices about their lives.  We realize that we change.  We realize that who we were in high school is not the person we are now.  So, why is it then... we forget that others change too?

Isn't it unfair to be proud of the person you have become and not give anyone else the option of also becoming a better person?  Sure it is.  Especially if that person is someone who has caused you to make conscious decisions about how you live your life.

This week I was visited by my past.  I had not spent any significant time with this person in about 24 years.  There has been the occasional phone call here and there.  A visit that would last for 1-3 hours every 3-5 years.  But to spend real quality time... that is a lot to ask.

I don't do well with surprises.  I like to know the who, what, when, where, why, and how as much as I can.  Yes I know I have control issues.  I am a planner.  The more notice I have, the better.  So to get a phone call Sunday afternoon that I am getting company Wednesday from this person, was not a very soothing experience for me.

Tuesday I spent in a whirlwind of anxiety.  Uncertain of what would be expected of me.  What I was supposed to do.  How I was supposed to act.  Was I going to cook meals, and if so what?  Would they be acceptable?  Is my house clean enough?  Are my children good enough. Am I good enough? Will he be disappointed in me?  Then the biggest question of all... Why oh why do I care so much?  Why was this eating me alive inside?  Why did I still have this fear?  I knew that a trauma in his life had given him a new perspective on life - so why would I expect him to be the same demeaning man he was 25 years ago?

I could not have made it though the first few hours without the love and encouragement of my husband and friends.  The visit was a success.  It was great to get to know this man who I had once feared.  Then had learned to love and have compassion for.  Things were not all sunshine and roses.  There were plenty of awkward moments.  Stories from memory lane, that sometimes stopped dead in their telling because they didn't always have happy endings.  Overall, it was a good visit.  It was emotionally draining, but a good visit.  How selfish of me to not think that he too could change.  Shame on me for doubting myself and second guessing my entire life.

People do change.

Sometimes we have to take a chance.  Grab on tight to the railing, and make the journey up the narrow path and into the foggy future.  Yes, I believe that is it.  I think that it why this picture has stuck with me all week.  I was holding on to that rail and taking one step at a time hopeful that no cars would come zooming by, taking me back from where I once was.