Rear-view MirrorA Story by James McLendonIt's all a blur at the endNever before has he felt the wind
rush by his face with such force. It carries the smells of a life lived, the
sounds of freedom constantly just out of reach. He wonders what it is about a
moment like this that brings out the things that matter most. He is a child again, running
through fields of green. The sight of birds on the wing, the undergrowth
rustling with secrets only imagined. The summers are long and the nights are
warm. There is a peace here that once lost will never be reclaimed, but will
always be remembered. The days and years are a blur, a seemingly endless supply
of “firsts” his first day at school that seemed to last forever, the family dog
he wished really had. There is a girl now, all rosy cheeks and pigtails. His
first kiss, his first heartbreak, they seem like yesterday. He blinks and he’s a young man.
The world is open before him and nothing seems out of reach. All that seems to
matter in the world is the promise of tomorrow, with the details of today
feeling like nothing more than stepping stones to a future that can’t come fast
enough. Life has been kind to him; he’s fit and healthy with a ready smile and
a light heart. There has been pain, and there has been happiness, but never too
much of the former and more than enough of the latter. Sometimes late at night
he wonders if the secret rustlings and sunlit mornings have lost their magic,
if they still have a place in his dreams, but as his eyes grow heavy these
thoughts fade into the night. The years stare back at him in
the mirror, with a gaze that hints at things left undone, a fear that maybe
it’s too late. He has no time for such worries though, there’s work to be done
and responsibilities to fulfil. He watches his children grow, the path before
him is steady and sure. It’s a time of laughter and tears, hopes not realized
and gifts unexpected. The whirlwind picks up speed and all is lost to the
onslaught of time. The sand continues to pour, days
and nights blend. Old friends come and go, the children he once knew have
worries of their own. There is a coldness in his heart the boy never knew, that
the man never considered. She was not rosy cheeked and pigtailed, but so much
more, a beauty that age couldn't mar. Even at the end she wore a smile on her
face and a spark in her eyes. He’s close now, so much sooner than he thought he would be,
memories worth a lifetime filling his soul and silencing his fears. The boy,
the man he was then and the one he has become, they are all there with him. The
ground rushes up, refusing to stop. It’s all been worthwhile, better than he
could’ve asked for and more than he deserved. He is smiling and he is ready. © 2014 James McLendon |
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