Tag: reflection

Crossroad Moments

Daily writing prompt
Describe one of your favorite moments.
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I’m fortunate enough to have treasure chest of favorite moments to sift through. I fell in love with an intelligent and beautiful girl in 1974, married her in 1975, and we remain together. She’s given me a bundle of favorite moments. Fun times, vacations, Christmas and other holidays, have given me a chunk of favorite moments, as well. Playing ball with my father and wrestling with him gifted me more, and being in the military, traveling the world, and having a plethora of good friends further enriched my favorite moments. And, although I’ve won promotions, awards, and honors, starred in local productions of plays and had some great moments playing sports, two special memories effortlessly surface.

One came in 1989. I was stationed in Germany with a C130 unit. A training mission was planned for the weekend to give navigators an opportunity to do overwater nav training. I normally didn’t fly, so offered a seat for familiarization and orientation, I jumped at the chance.

Our first stop would be Aviano Air Base in northern Italy, but politics put a crimp in our plans. Col. Omar Gaddafi ruled Libya. Two Libyan MiGs went up against two US Navy F14 Tomcats. The MiGs lost.

The episode put the region on high alert. We took off for Italy but were denied permission to enter Italian airspace. The Italians didn’t want to inflame the situation with more U.S. warplanes entering their nation. We were placed in a racetrack pattern over the Swiss Alps while diplomats worked on the problem. Going around and around, it was surreally beautiful and peaceful to gaze down on those rugged, snow and ice-covered ancient mountains, watching as shadows arose and lengthened, lights went on in the villages and hamlets, and the sky changed colors as the sun dropped below the horizon. We were permitted to continue into Italy and land, but our training plans were curtailed. It’s a favored moment because the time and situation allowed me to sit quietly and contemplate the world and existence. I could look up the emerging stars, where humans were rarely found, and back down to Earth, where we struggle to thrive, and reflect further on the circumstances around that unique moment.

My other favorite moment is one with my wife. We were in California, where we lived, in late 1999. We’d just moved into the first home we bought, a townhouse located in Half Moon Bay. Settled in and unpacked, we went for a walk one evening. After walking for about a mile, we arrived at Kelly Beach. There, we stood on a bluff, arms around one another’s waist, and watched the sun darken into red as it set on the deep blue Pacific Ocean. I felt content, satisfied, and hopeful about life in a meaningful way.

I’m happy to share these moments. They weren’t much in the span of time and life, but they mean so much to me.

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The Wife’s Colors Dream

First, I had this dream about sharing my apple pie with a young woman. As she was eating my crust, my wife came along. I went off to talk to her.

My wife and I ended up in what seemed to be a living room. Other family members were vaguely int the area. But my wife came to me and said, “I want you to look at my colors and tell me what you see.”

And I was all, “Huuuhhh?”

Other than being Caucasian as my wife, this dream wife didn’t look at all like RL wife, even though she’d started out as RL wife. Her hair was darker, heavier, and longer, and she had this pale, long, face with bright red lippy.

Second, she was dressed like a goth.

Third, she was holding up some kind of panel in front of her.

I thought the panel was a mirror at first. Then I saw that it reflected with nothing but swirled with images that reminded me of melting steel. I was trying to answer my wife’s request to tell you what colors I was seeing and describe her clothes, skin, and hair. She unleashed a heavy exasperated sigh at me and said, “Not those colors.”

Then I saw the mirror thingy was changing. Yellows and oranges were emerging, along with lesser spots of apple green and pine green. There was also a stretched out blotch of purple that was so dark, it was almost black.

I described these things to her, and then, somehow, I knew the colors had to do with her health, and told her, “I think you can change these colors. Just think of the color that you want to be, and that’ll happen.”

She was doubtful but almost immediately, a soothing fair blue swept across the mirror.

Dream end.

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Each

Each day brings a new requirement to re-balance priorities, needs, desires and the rest.

Each week brings an increasing gentle awareness of time.

Each month brings a new assessment of what’s been done, what needs to be done, what hasn’t been done, what you hope to do.

Each season brings new requirements for clothing, repairs, vacations, work and celebrations.

Each holiday brings a new influx of decorations – ghosts, Santas, elves and reindeer – and renewed promises to clean out the previous collection of decorations. Each effort bring renewed efforts.

Each departure brings thoughts and reflections. Each arrival brings anticipation.

Each year brings fresh nostalgia and growing awareness of mortality.

Each morning brings a new hope.

Each hour brings a new beginning.

And each thought brings a new perspective.

Each time, it’s not the same.

And each time, you wonder how has it changed?

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Intentions

Today is a sunny, drizzly, wintry late spring summer day, a rich day for meditating and harvesting nostalgia.

Such weather induces silence. The cats huddle for warmth, seeking places to stay dry and out-wait this weather. Children and adults find indoor activities. Less people prowl the neighborhood in cars, bikes and motorcycles. Nobody is cutting their lawn or trimming their trees and bushes. Few walkers and hikers pass the house. The birds become dormant on branches, indulging in their own weather meditation.Even the crows and jays aren’t saying anything.

With this quiet, I think of faded intentions and plans. I’m almost 60 now, and can pause and look back on what I thought would happen and what I planned, and compare it to what transpired. More, I remember insights that I planned to act upon and never did, words that I meant to say to people, feelings and emotions that were to be spoken, but never touched my lips. Time is an avalanche, and buries these moments. They may be our intentions but they’re subject to everyone’s timetable and existence.

Some people say this is summer, despite the calendar and the official start. Summer begins with some when Memorial Day passes, or June begins, or the schools let out. Whichever way you consider the season, as late spring, or summer, today’s air carries wintry odors and chills. It reminds me of Okinawa winters. Our tiny apartment, made of cinder blocks and lacking insulation, didn’t have any heater. We’d purchased a small electric heating tower to keep us warm.  Our family was me, my wife, and the cats. The cats were Crystal and Jade, felines that others surrendered for different reasons, that we took in. For a time, the family included Jade’s three kittens, too, but we found them homes.

Jade, a terribly smart and willful tabby cat, loved the heat and despised cold. She planted herself in front of the heater about six inches away. If you tried sharing her space, she’d bite your ankles until you moved out of her way. Mess with the heat and get the teeth. She’d make her displeasure known through her biting without moving anything except her head and mouth. The rest stayed huddled, keeping warm.

Such memories flooded me as I gathered my laptop and gear and packed it away to ‘go write’. We were in the snug, the small room where we do most of our living. The house is about 1850 square feet but we can usually be found within the snug’s hundred and twenty four square feet, reading books, on our computers, watching television, cats on the desk and laps. A small electric heater was on to combat the chilliness. The room’s thermometer claimed it was 69 in there but it didn’t feel that warm. It felt like an Okinawa winter. So the small electric heater was on because its more energy efficient than running the entire gas system.

We’re spoiled, I think, remembering back to those days of Okinawa. But sometimes it’s good to be spoiled.

I wish everyone was.

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