Reflection: The Infinite Sadness

Sounds pretty depressing doesn't it?  It isn't really.

My wife and I took a road trip to visit my brother, his wife, and his six month old son. Don't worry, everything is fine with them.  However, while clocking close to 20 hours of driving across the cascades, I felt it.  The Infinite Sadness.

It's terribly difficult to explain.  It's sad, and it's infinite, but not in the sense that it's such a deep sadness.
It's not that you always feel it, but when you do, you know it's always there.
It's comforting.
It's the recognition that there is nothing perfect under the sun
It's that feeling you get when you can see for miles, the horizon is blue and hazy.
It looks perfect, but you know it's not.
It's the knowledge that as you get closer, it's pretty much the same as the last ridge.
It's that dull ache when you just want to stand on a cloud, or in a fog so thick you can't see the ground.
It's knowing that things keep happening, and you can't be everywhere.
It's knowing that that cute kid will probably double in age before you see him again.
It's wishing that all the people you love could just come together to one place.
It's being at home when things are happening everywhere else.
It's being everywhere else and just wishing you were at home.
It's the weird feeling of happiness and peace that just leaves an ache in your heart.
It's knowing that you can't be everything to the one you love most.
It's knowing that that doesn't matter at all.
It's the strange comfort that things can still go up from here.

It seems bad, but I love it.  At least for this life, I feel as if I need it.
It's a sadness that makes you happy.