Monday, October 22, 2012

train, train

We rumble past a seemingly endless parade of quiet towns. In the quiet of the night, they seem frozen in time, unchanging.

Dawn will change that.

It's been five years since I've been on a train. It seems so much longer than that - a lifetime ago. I'm headed in a different direction now - in every sense of the phrase.

The changes are barely noticeable as they occur. A loose board here or fine line there, a slow, unremarkable fading of brilliant hues or a subtle loss of glow. We rarely take note of them as these things happen - more a product of the slow wearing on of time than a single, memorable event.

When did that storefront become so weathered? Why I can barely read that sign. The dust hangs thick on the counters, a few wiry spiders hiding in the baseboards the only living thing inhabiting that space now.

When did my skin become so lackluster, peppered with age spots? Why I can barely remember what it feels like to wake up full of energy, unencumbered by pain, ready to take on the world. A few tarnished memories remain, reminding me of who I was then.

Dawn will change that.

I will recognize that I'm simply an older, wiser, kinder version of I who I once was. And I'm ok with that.

1 comment:

  1. I'm glad you are okay with that. When I was in my twenties, I constantly got carded at bars. Then, I hit 30 and suddenly looked my age. It was just the opposite with Bing, my partner. Everyone always thought she was at least ten years older than me when I am actually almost two years older than she is.

    And then, a week ago at the gym...someone asked her if I was her MOTHER!