In reference to a recently posted blog titled “We Shall Know,” I am smiling as I recall the fun I had writing it, as a loosely formed riddle, especially after living this particular week, which has been referred to, by many, as the Holy Week. This week culminates in Maundy Thursday’s foot-washing, commemorating Christ washing the feet of his disciples; Good Friday, the crucifixion; and Sunday, his resurrection.
My son and I started out this week with a road trip around Pure Michigan, over to and following northward the east coast of Michigan, across the straits to Sault St. Marie, along the coast of Lake Superior, beyond Marquette, down to Escanaba, eastward to St. Ignace and down to Cedar Springs. All of this we did with a lot of exploration each day, reading historical markings, eating ethnic food, taking spectacular pictures, leaving some beckoning trails and side roads untraveled because they were still snow covered. Our exploration was relaxed, no time pressure, no schedule, just moving quietly, slowly, through each day, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, but as Thursday dawned and slowly moved along, it somehow became Friday to both of us, and as it progressed through each hour, it also became the last day of our road trip, ending with pizza from Jets in my cozy little kitchen. We were home before dark, early Friday evening, after a very enjoyable five-day road trip, or so we thought. We were remembering together delightful moments of the days, so rich in recent memory: what special foods we had, the mocha latte coffees and where we stayed each night. At that point, we both became aware that we could not remember one of the nights. Where had we stayed? It must have been between Sault St. Marie and Escanaba. To clear my thinking, and better jog our memory, I referred to my notebook, in which I had journaled each day, with still no real confirmation of the one missing night, until I looked at the calendar hanging on the wall, knowing it was April 14th. After all, I had been seeing that date each time I turned on my phone, all day, supposing it to be, and living as if it were, Friday the 14th, and knowing tomorrow, the 15th, was my daughter’s birthday. All of this until I looked at the wall calendar. April 14th was clearly on a Thursday, and we both had been living Maundy Thursday as if it were Good Friday! We didn’t live Monday as Friday, the riddle of my previous blog post, but we did clearly live Thursday as though it were Friday, thus proving the riddle, that it can be done. The last and final day of our road trip was not spent on the road. Breakfast was left-over pizza. We brewed our own coffee, and enjoyed each other’s company at home, on Good Friday proper.