Friday, September 01, 2006

Two ships passing in the night

I'm right outside Sparks, NV, waiting for another train to move its butt out of our way, so we can get moving again. The family in the seats in front and in back of mine has been traveling with me since Chicago, and they're about to get off. There's Thomas, about 10 years old, his mother, whose name I haven't caught yet, Grandma, who is rather frail and, I suspect has Alzheimer's, and Uncle Mickey. They were thinking of moving to a sleeping car because sitting this much isn't so good for Grandma's circulation. Thomas needs to sign up for PE for for next year. The Mom is on the phone to Michael, I assume her husband, who is waiting to pick them and drive home, I think in Carson City.

We haven't really spoken a word to each other, you just pick these things up living in close quarters like this where everyone's private spheres overlap.

Now they're going to leave and we will never see each other again. Sometimes I think it's good to be reminded that we all have these little things, relationships, whatever, that are so important to us, but then, so does every one else. I often think the same thing when driving on the freeway, to see some remnant of a house or a barn that has almost completely fallen down. Today, I saw as we went past, just a stone doorway standing out in the brush. No door, no house around it, just a door frame standing in empty space. No idea how old it was. It could have been ten years or a hundred. I can't help but wonder who built it, did they feel some sense of pride in their work, why did they leave it? Not only do I wonder if they are still alive somewhere else, but is there anyone alive that still knows the answer to these questions, or has it been lost forever. How many of the things in my life, in your life, will someone be wondering this about in a few decades?

(2006-08-20 13:39)

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