Hinges of Time

I was on the phone today with friend Bob Stilger. He spoke this phrase, “hinges of time” to describe my upcoming weekend.

My son is graduating from high school tomorrow. Yes, in a blink, it seems. Even though it has long been visible in front of us. It will mark a change, of course. I’m proud of him. Graduation is a part of that. I’m proud of the person he is and has become.

Immediately after his graduation, I’m returning to my hometown of Edmonton, Alberta to gather with family and honor my Grandpa Billy Gould, who passed away last month. To share stories. To be together. To laugh. To cry.

Hinges. They connect one thing to another. I think of doors to walls. I think of entryways, one room to another.

“Things come through the hinges of time,” Bob said. “They are significant moments that change life or the relational web of life.”

Perhaps.

I’m proud of both of these individuals. At this point, my son enters another stage of adult life. Our relationship enters another phase. There will always be dad and son. This hinge will likely bring on a next stage of adult and adult. With Grandpa, the oldest generation is passing. Now I’m the one telling more stories, just like Grandpa used too. My turn. My heritage.

And I’m grateful Bob and people like him that make it easy to reflect.

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