some times i wish i had this gift to write like this
but this is a copy from BoxCanyon Blog.com please put your winter coat on and go to his site this is BLOGING at its finest
And now, Christmas Eve... in the six am quietness of alarm clock-less holiday... rubbing sleep from eyes and sipping coffee... an unthinkable one thousand piece jigsaw puzzle splayed out like confetti, a Christmas tree, swamped to it's under-branches with gifts. The pulse of life is momentarily sedated, so I use this quiet time to download photos to my laptop.
A random toss away shot at first glance, jumps out at second glance. My finger anxiously hovers over the "Delete" button, "Pull the trigger!" It's a boring photo of winter as seen through the reflection of a Mc Donald's window, the one where we potty-stopped. It seems truly lame, but my eye is drawn to a smaller picture within the picture. I crop away reflections of winter 2012 and zoom in on "winter" of another sort. Caught like a deer in headlights, was a metaphor for the last season of Life.
There's an old, old man in my "looking glass," frozen in time. I study his face, seeing his "winter" as it looks from my "fall." He has elder sized ears and nose. A Veteran's cap sits askew on his head and nearly touches eyebrows... an old solider with stories that will likely accompany him to the grave, lost forever, forgotten. I study his turn-downed turtle mouth... something of a frown. A glance in the rearview mirror reveals a similar mouth forming on my own face. Is it late fall? or early winter?
His hand and fingers appear supple, like a pianist or saxophone player, as he reaches for another french fry. He is in the middle of winter, in the middle of "winter." Whether it's one of discontent or resignation, I cannot tell. Is he a widower? Is he all alone... children too far away? Why aren't they here? Why is he sitting alone at Christmas time in a Mc Donalds? I feel a sadness welling... it's for him, yet in some way it's for me, too... the future me. I want to go fetch him... give him a hug like Caleb gave me... invite him to our family Christmas... smother him with attention... listen to his stories of growing up, the war, and how it is getting along in the "winter" of life.
I have neither grandparents nor parents to hug and wish Merry Christmas anymore. I swear to God, if I could find this man again, I would engage him... adopt him... hug him... love him.
All this from a photo I almost deleted.
******************************************
Merry Christmas, everyone. In the spirit of this post, try to include or call someone who is alone and in the winter of their life this holiday season. Soon enough, there go we.
Mark and Bobbie
A random toss away shot at first glance, jumps out at second glance. My finger anxiously hovers over the "Delete" button, "Pull the trigger!" It's a boring photo of winter as seen through the reflection of a Mc Donald's window, the one where we potty-stopped. It seems truly lame, but my eye is drawn to a smaller picture within the picture. I crop away reflections of winter 2012 and zoom in on "winter" of another sort. Caught like a deer in headlights, was a metaphor for the last season of Life.
There's an old, old man in my "looking glass," frozen in time. I study his face, seeing his "winter" as it looks from my "fall." He has elder sized ears and nose. A Veteran's cap sits askew on his head and nearly touches eyebrows... an old solider with stories that will likely accompany him to the grave, lost forever, forgotten. I study his turn-downed turtle mouth... something of a frown. A glance in the rearview mirror reveals a similar mouth forming on my own face. Is it late fall? or early winter?
His hand and fingers appear supple, like a pianist or saxophone player, as he reaches for another french fry. He is in the middle of winter, in the middle of "winter." Whether it's one of discontent or resignation, I cannot tell. Is he a widower? Is he all alone... children too far away? Why aren't they here? Why is he sitting alone at Christmas time in a Mc Donalds? I feel a sadness welling... it's for him, yet in some way it's for me, too... the future me. I want to go fetch him... give him a hug like Caleb gave me... invite him to our family Christmas... smother him with attention... listen to his stories of growing up, the war, and how it is getting along in the "winter" of life.
I have neither grandparents nor parents to hug and wish Merry Christmas anymore. I swear to God, if I could find this man again, I would engage him... adopt him... hug him... love him.
All this from a photo I almost deleted.
******************************************
Merry Christmas, everyone. In the spirit of this post, try to include or call someone who is alone and in the winter of their life this holiday season. Soon enough, there go we.
Mark and Bobbie
