This Thanksgiving, my daughter, grandkids and I took a trip up the California coast to see as many missions as time would permit. My grandson is in 4th grade, and his class wasn't doing any projects though they were studying California History. My daughter knew how valuable it was for her to see the misions when she was his age. She feels compelled to provide "Living History" experiences for her children. I appreciate this; my parents gave this to me, and I must have done something right too: Misssions yesterday, State Parks today and National Monuments tomorrow. It's important to see as many as we can with the little lifetime we've been given. So many people never get out of their hometown. The world is our oyster...
We are blessed to live in such a young land. It was almost sureal to realize that the Interstate 101 road just 230 years ago was a dirt path way for wagons, and horses carrying pioneers and Indians. The el Camino Real bells were a day's ride apart or with in earshot of each other. That what seems like ancient times is now congested with traffic at main juntures like Sepulvida in Burbank, to Malibu Canyon Rd, then again in Santa Barbara. To ride it at night now and see all of the new automobiles glowing with DVD players in the back seats to entertain relatively weary travelers seems like living science fiction. Can you imagine what Father Junipero Serra and the settlers would think if they saw the territory they established then now?
Imagine riding along this road to the Doobie Brother's tune "China Grove" on an 8-track or the radio with the wind in your hair of a Mustang convertable. Trust me, we feel on top of the world in control and all is at our fingertips. Two hundred years from now we will seem like stone age men. That's what 18th century men were compared to us. They worked with mud to make bricks and hand made rope to raise stones to steeples with cast iron bells that ring certain tones to tell time and call out warning to the villagers. They rejoiced in their archaic ways. I personally, don't own a cell phone. I wondered where all these people have come from today. When God said "Multiply...." we sure took him literally. Who is left that is directly related to these pioneers. Where is our family history? Who knows? Who keeps track of their ancestory.
I know this, whether we are blood relate or not, we are definitely connected. The artifacts housed in these historical buildings are gifts to us. They make us rich when we witness them. The problem is that there are many people who don't get far on these roads to really see what came before them or even where they may have came from. This is a sad affair for our children. If I was rich I would offer field trips to many locales to help the youth of today see with their own eyes how far we have come in just 200 years. I wish I knew which Indian is part of my blood, or who may have shed their blood for me.
I know too, from this trip, life is shorter than we care to admit. We visited friends whom we have not seen in nearly 10 years. When I measure life in terms of their children having grown up already or with kids of their own too, and I see that they have gray hair and to hear that their parents have passed on, well, hell, it's almost over. I am saddened because I have missed a life time with these people already. So I am keenly aware that I have to make the most out the little time I have left. I know I cannot possibly accomplish as much as I would like, but something that leaves a legacy for at least my family should be a valuable like what Father Serra left. So with that in mind, pictures (digital or otherwise) will make way now for videos and blogs on the Internet. It is new age, and I do not want to be left behind. I do not want to be old and say " I am not of this world any longer, or that I do not know what happened to the world." I want to be a part of every cutting edge all the way to the end. I want to live my life to the fullest as if it may end sooner than I am willing or ready, because that is the true reality of it all.
We are less than powder in narrow capsule, swallowed whole in one gulp. I don't want to just be a candfle snuffed out after a dime is donated and a prayer is offerred for my soul. I want my life to matter more to my Great-great-great grandkids. So those of you who have a prayer for strangers, pray that my life will matter for many who come after me. I know we will be long gone, but I want to leave something that many will remember.
So in the weeks to come I want to lay out our trip here and tackle one mision at a time to express the history that I appreciate about each mission we saw as a family. Though we do not practice our ancesteral Catholitheism, I still wanted to tell my grand children how their great and great-great grandmother practiced it.
- Ventura
- Santa Miguel
- Santa Cruz
- San De Carlos (Carmel by the Sea)
- San Juan Bautista
- San Luis Obispo
- La Purisima
- Santa Inez
- Santa Barbara
AS THIS YEAR CLOSED TO AN END, I just HAD TO CALL A CHILDHOOD FRIEND from porochial school. I FOUND MYSELF BURSTING INTO TEARS while TELLING HER THAT I MISSED HER. (IT'S AS IF WE SAID SO LONG FAIR WELL JUST YESTERDAY.) I NEW WHEN SHE MOVED BACK EAST WHEN WE WERE 13 YEARS OLD THAT WE WOULD BE LUCKY TO SEE EACH OTHER 5 MORE TIMES IN OUR LIFE TIME. WE HAVE SEEN EACH OTHER 3 TIMES. WE MAY NOT EVEN GET TWO MORE TIMES TO HUG; WE ARE IN OUR MID 50'S now.
We were raised Catholic, and the roots run deep, and I do appreciate having that personal history. I do want to have another reunion for our 8th grade graduating class. I hope God blesses me with the funds and energy to make it happen again in our capsulated life time. We are due for our 40th reunion this summer.
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