As we sat quietly together this morning, I found my mind turning unwillingly to memories and regrets, and casting about for ways to solve the things I had not then found a way to solve. As the sun began to stream through the window, it came very quietly to me that time’s dimension heals as well as it seems to separate. I could not know how the passage of time had touched the things I grieved, nor did I need to know. The Light covered then and now, the same Light, and it was not dimmed by time; we were held, the then me and the two now people, in the same love. Nothing was needed: all was given, and was grace. There is no other dwelling place: nothing to do, nothing to earn, nor to repay. The plain, coppery sunlight of this autumn morning then somehow joined that unending Light, and held the two of us, as we sat at the table, in clear and ordinary peace.