There was an effort to rescue a loggerhead sea turtle. Cedar was underweight and a team of scientists felt he needed several months of care before he could be reintroduced to the ocean. There was physical therapy, a careful diet, and oversight from veterinarians to insure a full recovery. Apparently Cedar had a following on social media, because word spread that he was improving. 

 

On the day Cedar was deemed ready to return to the wild, he was transported by truck to the beach. Hundreds of people gathered to watch, clapping and cheering from the sidelines as he dragged himself across the sand. 

 

I don't think he noticed. 

 

Cedar had more pressing things to focus on, like bolting as fast as a hundred year old loggerhead could. Which is not that fast. But the audience was thrilled to see the turtle swimming away, free to live his best life. 

 

One time my daughter asked why I never gave goodbye parties when kids left home. I didn't really have an answer, except that leaving never felt like something to celebrate. I did, however, love to welcome them back with sweet desserts, and a twenty foot sign across the driveway. 

 

In the past year there have been people transitioning to the next world. In some cases it was expected, and those of us on this side had a chance to say farewell. In others, though, it happened before we were ready.

 

I like to believe that there is a crowd of angels, who have been following on celestial channels. 

 

"Did you hear who is coming?" 

 

"I want to be there when it happens!"

 

If there can be such an enthusiastic troop to show up for the liberation of a sea turtle, how much more extravagant will the welcome party be for a beloved son or mother or friend who steps into the freedom God intended all along? The exuberance stems from a heartfelt wish that the newcomer can now burst into their best life. 

 

Only this time I think they noticed.