My knowledge of Scripture is average at best, but if you started to recite the words of Ecclesiastes 3;1 out loud, I could finish a few of the lines.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…..

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…

Outside of the iconic song by the Byrds, these words have become familiar through many memorial services I have attended where they were spoken. These days, they are resonant to me in my daily life.

In 2014, my husband, Tyler, four-year-old son, Tanner, and two-year-old daughter, Maddox, moved from Scottsdale, Arizona to Bronxville. We bought Mayor Mary Marvin’s house on the Hilltop, and within days of arriving, neighbors from house across the street knocked on the door and brought us cookies. This family had three kids, ages 14 to 10 and they wanted us to know that if we ever needed a babysitter, we needed to look no further. Hallelujah!

In the beginning, we were meeting other families on the Triangle for playtime. We looked forward to to the annual holiday party where we met Santa. Then, my kids stopped wanting to go to the playground. They began to walk to school by themselves. They requested sleepovers. They asked for steak instead of chicken tenders. They resisted holding my hand. One got her ears pierced. The others’ shoe size became mine, and when he was late for school, I hurled my sneakers at him. They’re gone for hours at a time, locations unknown. I borrow their jackets if I can’t find mine.

And throughout all this time, one by one, my neighbors moved and new ones arrived.

While being home in the past few weeks, I’ve recognized that I am surrounded with families and children that are so young, with lives so different that mine, that there’s only one way to meet them. I knock on the door to welcome them to the neighborhood and to tell them that I have a son who’s 13 and a daughter who’s 11 if they ever need a babysitter…

To every thing there is a season.

Such power in these words now. They’re bringing up feelings I’ve never had before.

As fate would have it (and is it really fate?), Mayor Mary Marvin and I had a date for breakfast. Sharing a house has given us a wonderful bond, and I asked her if she remembered the moment in her life trajectory where she looked around our neighborhood and recognized the passing of time. She did, and she spoke beautifully about how for her, part of accepting the change involved grieving. I think she’s right. She also mentioned that if there was any moment she would hang onto, it was when her son was 13.

Experiencing sadness at the same time where it doesn’t get any better.

A time to mourn, and a time to dance.

I seek solace in the knowledge that God is with us in every season, guiding us through the changes, comforting us in our small and large griefs. May He, in surprising and wonderful ways, help remind me, and any of you whom relate, that we are alive now. These are the nuances that make life as beautiful a ride as it is.

I’m holding on tight right now.