Thanks for the Memories

I am flying.  I feel the exhilaration of the speed of the plane.  I must be back in India.  It’s hot. I look down to my salt-stained socks.  The guys are all just waiting. There is a lot of waiting.  

I am walking.  I feel the earth under my feet as the plow moves steadily forward.  It’s potato planting season.  The sun is warm against my back.  The horse is strong and the earth parts obediently.  

I am dancing.  I feel Paula next to me.  We are dancing to Moonlight Serenade.  The music fills the room.  We are not alone.  Everyone is dressed to the nines.  Another Mess Formal.  My Paula in my arms.  

I am swimming.  I kicked my feet to make a huge splash.  Stacey always liked that.  I’m on my back floating in our pool on the farm.  We entertained so many friends in that pool.  The slide.  Geronimo!  The inflatable alligator that no one could ride.  Kids laugh.  Adults applaud divers competing for a “10”. 

I am star-gazing.  The bonfire in the middle of our forest.  Looking up there are millions of stars.  It’s not like this in the city.  God’s country.  The cool breeze floats over me and the fire warms my toes.  Put on some more wood.  The brush I cleared from the woods today.  Stacey helped me get the pile of wood ready for the show. 

I am talking to Paula.  She is crying.  We fight.  I listen.  Her feelings are hurt.  I’m sorry.  We talk it through.  Communication is so important.  We never go to bed angry.  I love you too, Paula.

I am walking my daughter down the aisle.  It’s hot.  There’s Kevin ahead.  My daughter on my arm.  No more than 4 pounds and now look. 

My dad needs my help.  “Dad, I’ll make you a deal.”  I’m always negotiating with him. 

Back in the air.  The big blue.  Up, up.  Out of this world.  Peace.  

I am sleeping.  

So many flashes of memory.  I have lived so many things.  To sleep, perchance to dream.  A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou.  I can’t talk to anyone like I used to talk to Paula.  She is here. She is watching over me.  She is waiting.  I hold my breath.  Where is she?  

I am dreaming.  I must be dreaming.  Or am I really lying here with you?  Anne Murray.  I am singing.  I love to sing.  I tap my toes.  The beat is rhythmic.  I breathe in.  Exhale.  Music.  Then, nothing.  

They tell me I snore.  I know I talk in my sleep.  Stacey and I entertained Paula on the farm.  If she came to bed after we did, I’d be busy controlling planes as air traffic control and Stacey was singing the latest song she learned for the Eastview Concert Choir. 

So many flashes.  I jump from image to image.  

I sleep.  Dreaming is my new reality at this moment.  It’s not so bad.  Count sheep, Stacey.  Take a deep breath in and hold it to ten – then exhale for ten.  Keep doing that until you fall asleep. 

Beavers, ground-hogs, partridges, raccoons, dogs, skunks (bad combination), porcupines.


Cribbage, bridge, canasta

So many memories… 

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , | 4 Comments

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4 thoughts on “Thanks for the Memories

  1. Donna Langman

    You have so much wisdom, Uncle Bill. Love you.

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