One life to live

It was only a peak through the curtain to the evil place and they shuttered. Standing in front of an audience of 100 parents of 16-18 year olds I remembered being in their place. Son somewhere out of sight, a packed room of equally eager parents, a host of academy staff, and a speaker. My body was there but my mind had left the conference when I was the parent. 'Let's wrap this up and let me see my son...' I knew it all and didn't want to hear what I didn't need to know.

For forty five minutes Saturday and Sunday, I drifted back and forth. Ocassionally animated. At times somber. Often with my voice cracking. The parents were always intent. They followed along as if they were insiders to the story. They laughed and nodded. Rolled their eyes in understanding. Dads buried their face in their hands. Moms patted their husbands on their shoulders. Dads touched their wives hands. A woman turned to her husband and made a guess at how the story would end.  I saw faces and necks turn red. And then the tears poured. As if their phone had rung and their coroner was on the other end, people who live in fear of the awful end felt a touch of the indifference of death.

Tonight I heated a mixture of chicken, veggies, cuscus and ketchup. The aroma of ketchup mixing with the gas flame of the burner took me back to my childhood. Only my grandma and maybe Grandpa Jake's hunting cabin had a gas stove. I love the memory of gas stove meals.

How could all this be lived in one life?

Wisconsin Challenge Academy