Wondering Eyes

 

After a surprisingly refreshing nap I hear the distant cry of an ambulance’s siren in the distance. Through the walls of the apartment, I hear the sounds of a cartoon playing in the living room. In the kitchen plans have already been made for tonight’s supper, while outside the slightest of breezes can be seen blowing through the first of springs leaves. As for me, I’m still in a sweater with my pull-on boat shoes, minus a boat.

The walls of the study remain a lite tan color, with not a picture on the wall. With me sitting here recording in vivid detail the thoughts of a life, even my closest family don’t seem to care about. For my children find me inhospitable and grumpy, because of the cadence of my voice. Never thinking that’s just the way many of us were taught to speak to sound like a man. But more and more I feel like a man out of time. Separated by distance from all I ever really knew. Surrounded by a village of strangers, that never accepted me as one of their own. Leaving me even more isolated than I’ve ever felt.

But we were taught not to discuss such things, for we were tough. And all we needed to trust was our own wits and the skills of our father’s. Yet here I am using a keyboard and machines my father never used. In his world valves and gauges, formulas were measured with slide rules and your wits. So in this strange silence, some 125 miles away from home. A place of contradiction where the ocean meets the land, the suburbs turned into strip malls, and city squares give way to six-lane expressways. Giving the whole place an almost alien look to my tired wondering eyes.  

#Reflection #Misunderstanding #Interpretation #Wonder