It does not seem all that long ago that I was a boy spending my summer days fishing at the pond, playing baseball, reading comics, riding bikes, and eating freeze-pops with the neighborhood kids. I can remember those freeze pops well. You would take a pair of scissors and cut one of the plastic ends off and then push the crushed colored ice up from the bottom. I liked the orange ones best. Usually, by the time you got to the end there would only be a residue of colored water left, and you would tip it back drinking the sugared water until the plastic became flat. I bought some for my son recently, and he likes them. Of course I had to try one, probably the first since 1981. It was not the same...maybe I had to be 12 again, I don't know. Those were good times, carefree times that seemed to last forever, but vanished all too soon. One day they were gone. I don't exactly remember when that was, but one day I found myself a full grown man plying at a monotonous trade and waiting for the weekend when I would hope to accomplish all those things that dreams are made of. The weekends would come, but for the most part they would be spent in idle contemplation, or wasted activities like mowing the lawn. By Saturday evening I had lost all of that sense of specious freedom that I had tantalized myself with all week in anticipation.
So the days, months, and years went by, and one day I decided to get married, and soon had a child of my own to care for. Each day I watched myself get older in selfish pity. The youthful idealism and vigor that I had possessed in my twenties had dissipated as if it had never been. It had been replaced by a more mature philosophy dominated by a sort of Larry Slade-like cynicism and regret for the things I had not yet accomplished. I dreaded the future that seemed to be propelling me forward at warp speed.
One day an old woman and her daughter were guests at my house. The old woman was in dire form. Her wrinkled face had collapsed in upon itself and from all outward appearances I could not help but wonder if her mouth would one day consume it, unless of course, mercifully, nature would relieve her of this ignominious event. The hump in her back, and the bluish tinge to her elasticized flesh made her appearance that much more grotesque. It was sad to see a human being reduced to this state. She spent the entire weekend sleeping, only occasionally rising to take care of a primary need. However, more times than not she did not concern herself with the dignified aspect of this need, no...she would merely find it more convenient to relieve herself of her bodily wastes wherever she might happen to be. Sometimes, curious, I would watch her sleep. Her wrinkled lips making guppy-like blowing motions through a kind of death-like struggle. The wretched woman would be lying on her back, her eyes closed in deep repose. Her countenance suggesting peaceful bliss and the desire to be free from her earthly burden. I could not help but believe that she was merely practicing death. Would I too one day regress to this state? It was inconceivable...or was it?
So I live with the ghost of yesterday as I move ever onward to that imperfect but natural state of being. I am happy with that! If a person lives every day with a sort of acceptance of the limitations of their dreams then it is much easier to live. Try to forget your selfish desires and live for the happiness of the day
Time, that flake wisp of perception
Cunning in it's betrayal of beauty
It passes without conscience
No comments:
Post a Comment