It's Sunday night already - feels like the weekend was ten minutes long! I don't understand why it has to pass by so quickly. Many weekends I have lots of planned activities, and then the weekend feels like as though it was eight or nine minutes long. This weekend was pretty much an "open" weekend for me, but somehow it got filled up anyway.
Yesterday morning I went to the funeral for Paul, the son of a friend of mine. He was only43 years old and died after a courageous two year battle with malignant melanoma. The service was held at a beautiful church in the twin cities - one I have driven past hundreds and hundreds of time, but had never been inside. When my friends and I entered the sanctuary, I heard birds chirping. I thought to myself, What a nice touch! Paul was an adventurous man - robust, even while sick - rollerblading, running, skiing, playing the piano, and traveling. I think he would have loved knowing a few sparrows had somehow entered the building and were flying around the sanctuary - flying from the pipe organ, to the lamp shades, to the railings on the balcony, back to the floor of the platform - chipping all through the service.
I'm not complaining. It's nice to have things to do, and I'm happy that I can participate in so many activities - even if the weekends fly by.