Life's Little Tragedies #4: Someday we'll find it...

Isn't it amazing how a lot of the little things that happen to us on a daily basis can be such a metaphor for life in general?

I was in the break room during break at work today, and it was raining outside. All of a sudden, the sun started coming out, and a rainbow appeared. First of all, I don't see rainbows all the time anymore. I can't even remember the last time I saw one, to be perfectly honest. Whenever and wherever they occur, I'm usually in the house or at work, safe from the storm, and never seem to be able to make myself take the time to gaze out the window to take in the beauty of a summer storm and its after-effects...in this case, the miracle of a rainbow. I do remember seeing rainbows in the past, of course. In fact, I'm a big fan of anything with lots of color in it. I guess this is where the metaphors start to kick in, because I seem to subconsiously seek out things with many colors or spectrums, to brighten up the grayness that's been my life.

Anyway...this rainbow out the break room window at work was the brightest, most colorful rainbow I can recall seeing, and I ran to my locker to get my camera. (Yes, I carry a camera with me. You never know when a photo-op will present itself. "Be prepared" isn't just a Boy Scout motto...it's a way of life.) I raced outside to snap a picture, and wouldn't you know it, lo and behold, the rainbow was gone.

I missed it.

I was very dejected, to see the least, and in an instant the metaphor presented itself to me like a dead relative to James Van Pragh:

In the bleakness that is our lives, good things come but once in a great while, and they are indeed fleeting. Be quick to take advantage of these moments and opportunities, for they will surely pass you by without a thought. Take the time to stand and face the dark skies, and capture that rainbow when it appears.

Just make sure your thumb isn't over the lens when you snap it. (Now that's a profound metaphor!)

;-)

Just can't win...

I let people walk on me and/or take advantage of me, and I'm told to stand up for myself and do something about it.

I do something about it, and I'm told I'm being an ass.

(sigh)

Sometimes I really don't know why I even bother.

New addiction #2: Google Earth

Holy cow, have I been having a good time with this thing or what!

If you don't already have this and use it, I recommend giving it a go. You'll find yourself sitting at your computer for hours (or for those of you already at their computers for hours, you'll be there longer, if that's possible), looking up places all over the world like crazy!

It almost makes you feel a little godlike. Not in the sense of being able to change anything, but just having the power to see anything, anywhere in the world in a snap. It's kind of like playing Civilization and being restricted to a level of "nosy landlord"...except you can't evict anybody. I tried looking for the "kill" button, but it just ain't there.

So, all in all, I'd say Google is really outdoing themselves with this application, and it's worth it. Well, I can't even say "worth it", since it's FREE! That's right, a free download that gives you tons of images and information about anyplace in the USA or the world. In fact, there's so much stuff to explore that I can't even sit here and type it all out. You'll just have to download it for yourself and see. It's like having an atlas, phone book, road map, world encyclopedia, and your very own high-speed helicopter all in one, right at your fingertips! Very, very cool.

http://earth.google.com/

(On a personal note, pretty much all of SE Illinois, where my cohorts and I grew up, is totally blurred out. It's almost like some kind of "hick haze" covering the area, hiding its dark secrets from the rest of the world. Spooky.)

A letter to Mom on the anniversary of her passing

Dear Mom,

It doesn't seem like four years, but here it is. Four years since you've been gone. Four years since I've last talked to you or seen your face or touched you. I'm sitting here not sure what to say, because to be honest, somehow it doesn't seem real, even to this day. Even so, I've accepted that you're gone, and I'm pretty well past the stage where I'll feel like calling you, or refer to you in the present tense. I still think about you all the time, but my thoughts don't ponder the concept of your not being here too long, because I'll find myself starting to go to that place again, like I'm doing now with this letter. It's a place where I find myself being lost and alone, unsure of all things, and very, very sad. I've accepted that you're gone, and I tell myself that I've gotten on with my life, but I find I still miss you horribly, and wish more than anything in the world that you could still be here in my life.

I still talk to you occasionally, but it's mostly just thoughts in my head, and then imagining how you might respond. Most of my thoughts about you are my memories, and of how certain things that happen in my life now might remind me of things that happened in the past, when you were here and such a big part of my life, especially in my younger years. Growing up, you were the center of my universe, as I'm sure most kids' moms are. But you were unique in that you were my mom. No matter where I went in life, whether it was down the street or a couple states away, I always came home at the end, and you were always there, in every way. You were always there for me, Mom, even into my adult years, and my biggest regret now is that I never expressed to you how much I appreciated what your presence in my life meant to me. I always told you I love you, and I did things for you on your birthday and Mother's Day and the like, but it's not the same as really letting you know how deeply I feel about everything you've done for me over the years. Everything from simply feeding me, clothing me or driving me someplace, to being the one to come to for a hug when I'm down, to turning to you for support in either times of need or during Life's Little Accomplishments.

Even in all the good and happy times I've referred to, there's been times when I know I've disappointed you, or made you sad or hurt you with my words, and I'm not going to dwell on those things, because those things helped us understand each other a little better, and made us closer. But even so, I will say I'm sorry for ever hurting you.

You know, sitting here going back over everything I've written so far, it still seems like it's not enough. I don't think there can be any acceptable amount or kinds of words that can adequately express how I feel about you, Mom, but I hope that if you're still out there somewhere in some other form I just can't see, you'll know what's in my mind, and in my heart, and you'll know and fully understand finally how much I love you. Hopefully those three words will say it all:

"I love you."