There are these amazing places all over the world, borders between here and there. If you stand in just the right way you can be in four different states, you can stand with a foot in the U.S. and one in Mexico… I was thrilled and absolutely mesmerized by this. It was endlessly fascinating to me, such an innocent and fun thing. So silly. I had no idea that there are the same borders in time. Lines that separate here and there. Here, where things are okay, good even. There, where things are falling apart or worse. Unlike when you step from one place to another you can’t step back in time.
I have had several of those times in my life. Times when life slows down to an incredible crawl and everything flashes like a strobe light has gone on. You step back and watch as you realize you can’t do anything to stop what is happening. Your mind connects the dots and you see the picture just as it is fractured by several dark lines, you look down and see that you are now standing there – right there – one foot on each side of now – the here and the there. Only unlike the childish laughter that standing in two countries this moment fills your body with pain, a physical reaction to fear and loss and heart ache. Nothing will ever be the same. Things will be okay, heal and even become great again (though you don’t know that when you are young and you barely believe that when you are older) but in this moment there is nothing but the fierce reality that everything is crumbling. You look up just as you tumble all the way into the side of there, you are no longer who you were only moments ago. Somehow, eventually, sleep creeps over you or exhaustion in the form of sleep. The next morning as your subconscious starts to shake itself off and pull together the cruelest part of this whole thing is about to happen. In the second between your brain snapping together and your eyes opening you think you are waking up to your old life, when your eyes open it’s as if you have broken your glasses. The world is tilted and the lights are low, it takes a while to work out that the change is in you, not the room around you. Your breath is stolen, or squeezed from your chest and the weight of a million soaking hopes are pressing down on you. Hopes can be so heavy when they are wet with disappointment.
Some of the borders that shape my world:
- the death of my Grand Nolan
- the murder of Billy Joe Drummond
- hurricane Katrina
I want to mention that there are also the great moments that shape my life, this post however is about the harder times because they were what I thought of as soon as I read the prompt.