Wisdom is granted
to those who honestly seek
Wisdom is granted
to those who honestly seek
I said it to her repeatedly: It’s morning already, my dear, not 2 a.m. She really didn’t listen. She was all set to hug the pillows, but instead she was sitting somewhat upright in an airport lounge, absent-mindedly observing the world go by. People of all colors, all denominations and from all corners of the world crossing paths briefly. The espresso machine was humming non-stop, singing its global song: wake up, it’s morning already.
That was of course true for some people, but I understood that for her it was still night, the Hour of the Wolf was slowly approaching. And yet for others, it was already late afternoon or even dinner time. That might have explained the gradual decrease in the liquid levels of the fine wine bottles on the drink counter, even when the clock on the wall showed 8 in the morning. Serve yourself – whatever your internal clock calls for. Her clock didn’t call for anything but sleep. But I was not in the position to serve her that, so I served her espresso and water. Over and over again.
A small minority of people clearly had slept in a bed that night, whether their own or someone else’s. Shower fresh and clear-eyed they rushed in and sat on the office chairs in front of the computer screens or plugged in their own gadgets in the little work cubicles. Doing some last-minute preps before meetings in another city while complementing their hasty breakfast with new selections. That seemed practical for the short-haulers, who were mostly, but not entirely, men.
For the many long-haulers like her, it was good that the lounge had some facilities. This particular one was fresh and boasted modern sleek designs. She was not really able to appreciate the quite spectacular avant-gardisim, but I noticed she woke up a little bit after splashing cold water on her face. It’s morning already, I repeated, you can have more coffee.
She had many more hours to kill and I noticed she was secretly dreaming of reclining lounge chairs, something like the La-Z-Boy design. She dozed off several times in the modern but uncomfortable leather chair. Her eyes shut and her head fell forward. Then she startled and woke up again a little. Repeat.
Every time she woke up, her neighbors had changed. Now a young couple spoke Hindi in the row behind her, a middle-aged man paced back and forth in front of her and had an argument in French on his cell phone, and yet another couple to her left spoke quietly in Arabic. Someone to her right snored loudly. She could hear an assortment of languages around her, some familiar some not. The world was adequately represented. And right there it appeared surprisingly peaceful. She could doze off once more. And I let her, somewhere in the world, at 8 a.m.
On a cool spring day
croissants and roses hatch dreams
the scent of Paris.
Taking a moment
Borrowing mom’s old laptop
Writing a news flash.
Hiff there! This was my first haiku. What do you think? I haven’t been blogging for quite some time now. It’s not that I’m lazy, but the issue is that my sight has kind of gone from bad to worse. I can see shadows, but it’s not fun to be a shadow writer. I hope you agree. It’s a bit sad, but I don’t want to complain. When one is close to 90, one is close to 90. It’s a respectable age, what can I say.
But don’t you worry, life is still good. I’m doing quite okay provided mom doesn’t get an idea that she needs to redecorate, like move some furniture. People are funny that way. They think the same furniture looks better this way or that way! I’m trying to tell her it’d be a bad idea – and so far so good.
Just trying to type a brief message today, and yes I’ll use the spell checker, to let you all know that mom is packing again. At least her purple little suitcase is on the guest bed and that’s usually a sure sign that she’s going somewhere for a while. I’ll miss my shadow (yes, I still follow her everywhere, at least I’m trying to!) so I hope she’ll be home in no time so I can walk her again. I love the evening walks and she follows me quite nicely.
This morning I also wrote a wish list for some souvenirs: an Eiffel Tower shaped soft bone and dog cookies baked like the pyramids. They should be at least three. That’d be cool.
If you see some posts in the next week or so, it might be me – or her. Just saying. Take care folks!
Have you ever seen the world above the surface?
Not much of it, but I don’t even have the desire.
Why is that? It seems so exciting and beautiful to me.
It is beautiful alright, but it’s not all good.
I’ve heard that people have killing machines.
And that’s not all, almost anyone can have them. Pam, pam.
You’re kidding me? Even those who’ve done bad things?
It’s like giving bigger teeth to piranhas. How can that be?
It’s beyond me, but I’m not kidding you. That’s how it is.
Then I think we’re much better off down here,
in our own little world below the surface.