There is a story of a place where fire meets water and the age of magic still lives and the famous seer Pasqualina looked at us and said “You’ll take his hand again.”
I repeated it, “you’ll take my hand again” and made sure to add “because I know things.”
And so the music plays.
Still listening to Erez I put down the pen and turn on another song trying to catch the fragment of a memory I can’t quite put my finger on but still can feel in the background.
Give me a moment of distraction as I translate the Hebrew into English and it will come back.
Why Can’t I See
My eyes haven’t been working as they should but there are other parts of me that also have refused to do as they are supposed to so in the midst of the pandemic I have considered whether to be seen or to wait.
The decision is made for me one day when I feel like something just isn’t right and can’t decide if it is stress or something else.
I am due for a follow up to determine if I am going to require additional treatment and so I drive down the street to see the eye doc.
Call from the car and get the go ahead to make like a bank robber and mask up. No one is on the stairs so it is just me for three flights and then a brief encounter with a masked nurse.
She takes my temperature, runs me through a list of questions and I go in. The exam is done and the doc says he sees improvement but I am not convinced.
Uncertain if I agree and mildly irritated about feeling rushed by him. We sit six feet apart and I ask two or three questions, get answers and leave.
Where are you and your third sight Pasqualina? Maybe you can explain what lies in the fog I am walking through.
Saturday morning comes and it takes a moment for me to realize that my vision is crisp again and better than before.
Maybe the doc is right, certainly happy to know my pressure is good and that I haven’t followed in dad’s footsteps with glaucoma.
Working briefly in the garage the mutiny starts again as I feel parts of me not wanting to cooperate as they should.
Could walk away and rest but I don’t because I am not having this.
Wander over to the weights and intentionally push myself because I may not be blessed with grace but strength has never been an issue.
I throw the iron around and convince myself that even if I am not as good as I once was I am good enough for today and capable of getting better.
Still it is a bitter pill to swallow this idea that time takes bites out of us.
I don’t fear dying via Covid19 or related causes. Hell I don’t fear dying, I just hope it is not painful.
That being said I have things to do and death is inconvenient so I won’t let it slow me down just yet. Will do my best to protect myself and to take care of life.
Someone asks if my hand is swollen and I laugh and say no. They’re just big and thick.
The day before during a work conversation a colleague offers advice on a major project and I say if you haven’t noticed I have the kind of hands that are built for holding on.
I say it more for me than anyone else because this project is a beast and by the end of the week my body feels wrecked and my brain feels like it has been pummeled.
Saturday includes an hour of work to fix something someone else broke but the irritation I feel by cleaning up a mess is mitigated by recognizing that having finally slept well I see clearly.
Run With Me Kid
I try to convince the teen to run with me but he isn’t particularly interested. It is a little disappointing but I understand when he runs he likes to be unencumbered by others.
The kid used to run cross country and he gets more out of it than I do. Truth is I like the sprint. I like the explosive nature of it, the push to see just how fast I can go.
Sometimes I try to get myself to learn to enjoy the distance but thus far I haven’t found a way to make it happen.
I tell him we ought to look into doing an Ironman not acknowledging how much work it will take to get me to that place but knowing if he does it I will figure it out.
He is not real interested this kid but I push just a little.
“My time for doing this might be limited. Can’t wait forever, the days in which I can go long and hard have a timer on them.
I will fight it, but who knows.”
The kid says he’ll consider it and I smile.
He is running his own race and I see him accelerating in so many ways. I don’t think he recognizes how fast he is starting to move or how much ground he’ll be able to cover when he sees what I see.
Back in the place of magic staring at where the fire meets the water I hear the echoes of the future and nod my head because I see it coming.
Might feel long but something tells me it will be here far faster than any of us expect.
Changes oh the changes.