Age of Wonder

 

link to song The Good Life

He was born in 1901, in Evanston, Illinois.  I was with him the night of July 20, 1969 – that’s when Neil Armstrong became the first person to walk on the moon. And dad was over the moon about it.  As we drove home my daddy uttered the silly suggestion that he could actually see the men on the moon as he drove along.  I told him not to be such a silly person.

link to article about the moon landing

Years later it finally dawned on me just how exciting that was for my dad, who was born before the Wright Brothers flew for the first time. My dad who remembered Halley’s Comet from 1910.  A man who never in his 70 years flew in any type of aircraft.

The advances that man made in those 70 years a nothing less than mind-boggling.  When he was born in 1901 my dad’s life expectancy was about 48 years.  They didn’t have what we would consider healthy lifestyles in those times… daddy was a smoker, and the whole family were drinkers.  They ate fatty foods, and didn’t know what cholesterol was.  Daddy liked bacon, dessert, sugar on his fruit, and a lot of butter on his bread -especially if that bread was fresh-baked.

Nearly everything we take for granted today came up in the Twentieth Century. The prevalence of the automobile: my dad drove a Ford Model T automobile when he was 15 years old – his father’s car. By the time I was thought of dad got a new car every couple of years; Pontiac’s until 1965, then Oldsmobile’s.  

The telephone, without a party line, was a marvel.. My dad did not use the telephone. I remember that one time dad answered the phone, found out what the call was about, and then turned the device over to my mother.  His mind would be blown to think that everyone now days carries a phone in their pocket. –never mind the internet…

My dad listened to programs on the radio every evening, The Edge Of Night, The Shadow, Fibber McGee and Molly,…. And countless others… When the radio programs switched over that new-fangled device: the television, my dad went right out and got himself a television set so he wouldn’t miss an episode.  What a marvel television was,.. and the tv was on all day long in our home.  Dad watched tv in the evenings – a part-time couch potato before the term was coined… dad was often in front of the tv until the end of the broadcast day – sometime in the wee hours of the day.  Many the time I heard the National Anthem played signaling end of broadcast, and then the dull hum of the test pattern.

From the other side- here in the Twenty First Century, it is equally mind boggling to think that they had no television, cars were only for those with means, many homes did not have telephones, there was no television…  and entire generations survived just fine.

We Didn't Start The Fire

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Signs

Many years ago I had a trip planned.  This person I knew wanted visit a relative in Hawaii, and I was asked to be the companion traveler.  Who would not pass up a “free” trip to Hawaii, especially if you’ve never been.

But what happened was that my mother died 3 days before we were to leave on the trip.  Everyone I, spoke to said, “you’re still going to Hawaii, right? Because she’d want you to go.” So I went. I went because she knew about the trip and, in the way we had of teasing each other, it had occurred to me that she “went with the angels” because it was the only way she could go with me.

And the coolest thing happened: we visited an ashram, where people of many faiths had come together to live and meditate… and they had a beautiful garden,… and in that garden it happened.

A monarch butterfly appeared. And I thought to myself “she’s here”, thinking of my mother. That butterfly fluttered it’s way all around the beautiful garden, within the surrounding trees, a large somewhat circular area. It took my breath away, as I turned slowly, following the progress of the butterfly. It made me feel so happy, pleased, euphoric…  monarchs were her favorite butterfly.

[Monarch butterflies are not common in the islands.]

And that’s not all… a few days later, returning from the beach at the hotel, I paused in a clearing and there, amongst the palm trees and native plants was the monarch butterfly again.  It fluttered around me and went on it’s way. 

Thank you, mommy, for sending me signs.

butterflies are free song

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at the library

 there are few spaces of greater peace for me than the library.

Ever since my first visit to my hometown library,... the library is a place of peace and awe to me.

I am still awestruck at all the books, together in one place... and yet only a fraction of what has been published through the centuries since the invention of the printing press.

It's like home. Cozy, temperate, with lots of places to sit and peruse the bound copies.  I have memories of wandering through the stacks. Stopping when I found a topic of interest then, arms laden with books, heading for a reading carrel... oh the interesting things you can find.  I could get lost for hours, no days....  

Books have been the one true, satisfying constant in my life. 

My earliest memories of books in the living room of our house, from the time I could understand anything at all....  I was given access to children's books as a small child, and taught to respect - not to do any form of damage to the books. My mother enrolled me in a book club, so that I got a book in the mail - addressed to me - every few weeks.  She gave me a book about phonics that was geared to young readers, and I could not even read at the time, but I would sit for hours looking at the pages.

Later in life, traveling for work, with time to myself on the weekends... seeking out used bookstores, just to soak in the warm feeling and the scent of old books. Whiling away the time browsing through myriad and miscellaneous titles.

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Lucid dreams, strange dreams...

I took a nap yesterday, and slept good for the first time in weeks.  But I had a disturbing and very realistic dream, with only small details being twilight zone-ish.

I dreamed that I was living in a neighborhood I left over 20 years ago.  In the dream there was a large family or maybe several families living in the property across the street from my home. There was a crowd of young males playing basketball in the driveway.  If you have ever been subject to the noise of a basketball constantly bouncing off of pavement,.. and echoing endlessly off of every house... that's annoying to say the least. 

Suddenly the young fellows noticed that I had been glancing out of the window.  They all flooded across the road - right up to my window, not quite pressing their faces on the glass.  In the dream the window was a rather wide expanse of glass. Then one of the young men somehow opened the window, sliding it aside.  I slammed the window shut again, and struggled with the latch.

When I looked out again there was a policeman standing in the midst of the young men, asking if I needed help.  When I replied that I did require assistance the young fellows fled - off the roof of the garage, where they had climbed to harass me through a window that was suddenly on the upper floor, above the garage.  (this was NOT the house I actually lived in, which was a one-storey home)

I blink and I am standing at the front door of the house.  I see the policeman, and when I invite him to enter the home he morphs into a black woman.  She enters the home and we begin to talk to each other.

I ask if she has ever held or fired a gun, and as she answers, "no", with a smirk she pulls a gun out of her handbag and begins to wipe it with a cloth.  I pull out a gun of my own, as she fires her gun into the floor repeatedly until she is out of ammunition.

At this point I woke up.  

That was little unnerving, but not strictly unusual in the realm of my dreams, which are at best described as The Twilight Zone. I was aware that I was dreaming the entire time, but this time not in control of any of it.  

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why is this

 It is a solitary existence.

The heat is unbearable.

It is hard to move without breaking sweat.

I am miserable being damp all the time.

 

Add exhaustion, and pain to mix.

It is an unpleasant existence.

There is no purpose, no reason.

My guides are gone from this realm.

 

How must one be so alone?

What does it prove?

Who does it teach?

What is real anymore.

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my beloved dream

 I was meant to live in another century.

I am not where I belong. Where I belong is not of this era.

I was meant to be among a certain people.  In another time I was known to them. Those with whom I belong.  In this lifetime I am punished; separated from those I would call beloved.  At once I am alone and yet know of those with whom I belong.  It is punishment and heartbreak to know of them, to love them so dearly, and yet to never have known the one, and only have met the other and been found by him objectionable, unworthy of conversation.

My heart is broken knowing that one has perished from this life cycle. The other will remain apart from me, perhaps for eternity.  My only hope that the next life cycle will bring me back to the love of the other. It is difficult for me to even share this much.  I pray that I have the chance, in the next life cycle, to fulfill the longing for the sweet, beloved one, and know this is real and he is for me and I for him. Please may he recognize me in that other lifetime.

I fear that there will not be another cycle for me, and the cowardice of this cycle will be the legacy of my existence. That I will be no more.

“Some days it is a heroic act just to refuse the paralysis of fear and straighten up and step into another day.”
― Edward Albert

Empty

Empty

I am a rock

an island

Bereft of emotion

alone

empty

empty

empty