The picture not taken:

There are many reasons why certain moments pass us by without us handling them with the gravity that we really should. Whether these are goodbyes, special moments, or something else entirely.

So often, after the fact, we understand the depth of meaning lost by not treating these moments with the gravity due them. This gives way to a very real sense of loss: the “I shoulda…” Yes, we should have. We should have been more intentional. We should have planned more diligently. We should have said or done this or that. We should have taken that photo.

Even as I type these words there is a deep sense of regret that brings me to the verge of tears thinking about the moments that passed me by.

I should have seen my parents before I left. I should have told more people. I should, I should, I should.

For me, here and now, there is an equal sense of regret regarding the untaken pictures. The moments that passed by of that one perfect vista, or that one moment, or in this case that one person.

When leaving the motel in Berea this morning I pulled my bike out on to the concrete walkway to load it up before wishing Matthew goodbye. As I was strapping something down I heard a friendly “Oh” from behind me and looked back.

There stood a twenty something woman clad out in similar fashion to me, cycling shorts, jersey, helmet alongside her laden bicycle. Literally my next door neighbor from the overnight.

I asked point blankly if she was on the 76, which goes through Berea. For those that didn’t follow my 2011 tour the 76 is an established cycling route that goes from Astoria, Oregon to Coastal Virgina. The young woman responded that she was indeed on the 76.

We exchanged some talk. I learned her name is Tae, and she joked that she was “From here”, but quickly recanted and said “South Korea”.

I don’t know if it was human awkwardness or just the idiotic feeling that I was imposing, but the conversation closed quickly and I wished her on her way — She’s headed towards Elkhorn City, Damascus, Wytheville and beyond.

As she departed I yelled to her “Anneyeong!” She snapped around and yelled back “You know that!?!” And I shouted “I know enough Korean to be dangerous…” and then waved her off with a smile.

I should have been more intentional. I should have exchanged information beyond pleasantries. I should have taken a picture. And therein lies my regret.

She deserved more than just my passing pleasantry, she deserved my intention and I failed to give it.

She will forever be a picture missing from this account, a picture that only resides in my mind, a moment that is both cherished and filled with regret at the same time.

There were other similar moments today, but to a much lesser magnitude. Many pictures untaken, but none with the gravity of Tae.

Perhaps this is the big lesson I need to learn this go around — be intentional, give people and moments the time they deserve and memorialize them. Not for my own ego, not for a like, but because that intention, that memorialization honors the gravity of the moment or the person. Quite frankly, damn my feelings — my ego, my awkwardness, my desire to keep moving.

I need to understand that my intention and my attention are the greatest gifts I can give.

Tonight I strove to show more intention as I talked with my sons on the phone, letting them know I was safe. At home it’s easy to let the streams of our lives diverge, and for the most part we just tread through life together but apart. But again, there are moments that have the sort of weightiness that even if there isn’t a memorialization in writing or picture, there is one written on me and them. Cherished moments, like the time we played “Silent Uno” while my wife napped, and the gleeful stupidity we all shared trying not to laugh out loud.

All I’m saying is take the damn picture.

Anyway… here’s some damn pictures: