A Pensive All Saints' Day

I'm sitting here in front of the fire at 9:00 -- no, 8:00 -- in the morning, having some quiet time before we check out and head for Suttons Bay, the next stop on our journey.

Last night, after our day of excursioning, I was really sick -- feverish, runny-eyed and runny-nosed, having a hard time breathing and generally miserable. I woke up bathed in sweat but feeling and breathing much better; a hot shower and bowl of oatmeal have made me feel almost entirely human again. (My viral adventure seems to be about two days behind Fellow Traveler's; she was in pretty rough shape Thursday night on the way up here.)

The original plan had been to do some spiritual tourism this morning at a local church. Problem is...there aren't any. Not many, anyway. And no friendly churches, if you know what I mean, within 25 miles. It's disappointing.

I've been feeling somewhat introspective this All Saints' Day. A good friend and fellow parishoner of Fellow Traveler's and mine, one of the has been diagnosed with Stage 3 melanoma, with a prognosis that's less than encouraging, and seeing him physically fade over the last few weeks makes us sad. How does it feel, on All Saints' Day, to ponder one's own passing from one existence from one to the other?

Right now -- and this is pure coincidence -- I'm listening to Catie Curtis' song "Passing Through," written with Mark Etelli:


We are passing this world on to our kids
From the day when they climb from their cribs
We'll try and teach them well, show them that they're loved
But in the end all we can do is hope our best was good enough
They'll witness how this life can be so beautiful and cruel
We can't shelter them forever but if we show them all the tools
They might leave this world in a little better shape than me and you
We are only passing through

Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through
Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through

We are watching this world from our living rooms
Near forty years since we walked on the moon
This big blue ball is shrinking and I don't know if that's good
But for better or for worse now this whole world's our neighborhood
And there's no place left to run to, to stay above the fray
We better learn to get along not just to get our way
Not only for each other but our children's children too
We are only passing through

Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through
Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through

And I wonder sometimes what will I pass on
How much can one voice do with just a song
Sometimes injustice and indifference are all that I see
But I refuse to let my hope become the latest casualty
So I'll sing of love and truth and try to practice what I preach
If I can't change the world, I'll change the world within my reach
What better place to start than here and now with me and you
We are only passing through

Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through
Passing through, passing through
We are only passing through
We are only passing through