The vacation was fun. The amount of money spent, might not have been warranted, but it was well needed. The hours spent soaking up the sun in a place other than home revitalizing, yet something is missing. How can we possibly immortalize this moment time? Our memories fade, friendships dwindle, kiids move on to college and start families of their own. Maybe they call every day; maybe they don't, we can never predict the future, but we have the past and this present. A shot glass. The name of the destination emblazoned on the side. You tell yourself it's a must have item and only $1.99. You have completed the trip, preserved the memory and despite the dust that will attach itself to this keepsake, you'll have the memories, whenever you stumble across this box.
And yet, as we watch and read about children going hungry, living on the streets, possibly dying, in this country and in others. As we hear about shelters for battered women, abused children and neglected animals. As we watch our countrysides erode and ice caps melt, dwindling like the years left in our lives, we have that shot glass.
So here's a toast to the rest of MY life. A life without shot glasses, most likely vacations. My choice, my failures, my inadequacies, all wrapped up into my inability to do as I'd planned. An email saying "Thank you for your donation of $2,...every cent counts." I quickly delete that message, ashamed by my paltry gesture. I want no memories of this, the suffering, the inability to help in any substantial way. I quickly click on Facebook and I'm reminded by all, of their "random" acts of kindness, as I slowly slink back into obscurity, attempting to figure out how to make it through March, wondering what has happened to forty some odd years of shot glasses.
And yet, as we watch and read about children going hungry, living on the streets, possibly dying, in this country and in others. As we hear about shelters for battered women, abused children and neglected animals. As we watch our countrysides erode and ice caps melt, dwindling like the years left in our lives, we have that shot glass.
So here's a toast to the rest of MY life. A life without shot glasses, most likely vacations. My choice, my failures, my inadequacies, all wrapped up into my inability to do as I'd planned. An email saying "Thank you for your donation of $2,...every cent counts." I quickly delete that message, ashamed by my paltry gesture. I want no memories of this, the suffering, the inability to help in any substantial way. I quickly click on Facebook and I'm reminded by all, of their "random" acts of kindness, as I slowly slink back into obscurity, attempting to figure out how to make it through March, wondering what has happened to forty some odd years of shot glasses.
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