I lounged through the evening. Tired.
Worse than tired, I felt exhausted.
Long travel Monday, impossible sleeping night, enjoyed excursion, and finally the next evening arrives.
It came to me late…I may have been dehydrated. Only one cup of cold coffee on Tuesday, but lots of iced tea, lemonade and water.
I stopped to pick up some food for the hotel. A prepackaged sandwich, and a Dr. Pepper. Okay. A bit of a sweet treat.
As I settled in, I turned on the noise machine, From the Earth to the Moon. A series about the times I lived through.
As the bones rested, the mind engaged. So much has been missed.
Behind the bolted door, drawn shades,
and air-comforted hotel room,
I began living through the past.
I find joy. I am amazed by what I’ve experienced, the places I have been, and the people I’ve known. Tendrils fill in the blanks. The familiar landscape of the past becomes the reality of a tired spirit.
I pause. Could this be what a prisoner feels? Trapped. No way of living through again?
I return from my question as yet another question forms.
Why was the moment lived not more poignant?
I have lived through half of the 50s and everything after that until now. I’m so far in my past! Space, Assassinations, Wars, Rebellion, Drugs, Crime. The information age flooded the marketplace. Then, a new century, a pandemic, and a halfway effort at recovery.
Why didn’t we feel the moment as easily as a story?
We didn’t know where or when we were.
It takes a future storyteller to unfold the history.
My writing also tells a story, but one of comprehension primarily to myself.
Amidst the thought, the batteries in my keyboard die.
I keep on with my screened keyboard.
Fingerspelling, slowly, one word at a time.
I must complete this thought.
We lock our lives based on who we’ve become. Often without a glimmer of who we were.
Looking back, I find those who were impacted by their present enough to join the struggle, stand up to tyranny, or speak out. Deitrich Bonhoeffer comes to mind. He died for his stand just as the war ended. A few days later, Hitler died. Jackie Robinson played through the opposition and freed us to a better world. Entrepid explorers still open the way to the future – they never thought Voyager would go so far and still be able to communicate.
I think of Paul…Jesus…Noah. There’s no stopping the ruminations. Some have a present realization of their life and the push through to their outcome where we celebrate and share their stories.
Me?
I stand in my shoes today, a product of my past.
But the question arises, based on my past…
What would I have done?
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