It's How We Got Here

 

It isn’t so much the miles I’ve traveled, as it is the number of things packed into each mile.  Looking back down the track towards grade school I can see long sections of track with nothing but weeds running along each side.  I can see that now as time wasted.  My total focus was on playing and having fun and I was good at it.

The days through my teen years didn’t change much from that, although things seemed to pick up speed.  Close friends came into the focus, as did cars and independence.  Each job I tried was like a train station.  I’d stay for a short time, look around, get the feel of the place, but as soon as the next train came along, I’d get on it, and off down the track I’d go.  I saw employment as more of a Smorgasbord, just trying this and that to see what I liked.

The military train ran through different countries, exposing me to different architecture, different people, speaking foreign languages and odd food choices.  That time went even faster, although the heavy scent of garlic somehow permeated my memory. 

The station marked Adulthood came with baggage already piled high.  The bills were much larger and non-stop.  Everyone around me was serious and although we were all on the same train, each person was heading someplace else, with different goals and all very important.   I could tell there’d be no going back.  This station stretched on for miles, but now I had a traveling companion with me.  We looked out the windows together and found that we laughed at the same things and it never mattered if our seats faced forward or back, we enjoyed the ride. 

By the time we reached the Retirement Station, most of the steam was gone.  Our wheels had lost most of their traction, our gears were making more noise than usual and all of the other passengers now seemed to have the same goal, just make it to the next platform. 

We don’t wander too far from the Club Car these days.  We share stories of our adventures and listen to the maintenance reports of others.  Platform 80 is just over the next hill.  We might have to release the brake and coast in, but we'll make it.

 

 

 

 ZC