Life is full of them.
But that is false. Define a moment and see what you come up with. When one moment outshines the other, it doesn't seem to be a moment anymore. It's a memory. But we all have our moments and memories. The day your life changed from then on. The first time you saw the love of your life. A break up. A divorce. A child's birth. A parent's death. Moments. All of them. For memories, you have to remember. For moments, they are like paintings...never fading of the wall of your mind. Right there, plain as day, clear as crystal.
I'm alone. A lot. And when I try to see myself years from now, I still sit alone in this chair, on this computer, probably typing in this journal. I don't know that to be the case, never will till I get there, but it's what I do. So, what's to say that'll change? Well, it might. It just might. And I don't hold out for hope of it. I just let things happen as they may. It's the way of things - time, the world, life. I've live a full one, but haven't even lived it at all yet.
It doesn't bother me to think of all that. The alone stuff. What gets to me is just what I do with my time. I drive home from work and just down from where I live is a house - some kind of house that handicapped people live in - I don't know what they do there, but I see an old black woman pushing this boy in a wheelchair. His arms contorted, his eyes, with an odd glaze, fixated on the pattern in the asphalt, and his head picking up to look at the big vehicle passing by him.
I wonder what he thinks. I wonder then if he can speak and if so, does he mention whatever it is he is thinking to the old black woman. I try to smile when he looks my way. I don't avoid eye contact to someone like that because I think it might be kind of rude actually. But eye contact is made, don't brush it off, don't change the look on your face - unless it's to smile.
Anyway, seeing this day in and day out...seeing this and other moments like that just make me think all over again about what I am doing with my life. I work in radio. I like my job. Love it really. Easiest thing in the damn world I have ever had to do and get paid for it. And yet I think about giving it all up to work with people less fortunate than me. Working with sick children or the handicapped. It makes me feel good to think about it and I guess, I just want that feeling with what I do for a living. I don't want to donate money or something. I just want to push him in his wheelchair and talk to him if that can be done.
None of that ever happens however and I just think of cutting off my own legs because of it. I'm not feeling down on myself or anything, but I do look at people like that and wonder. I think if it could be done, I'd ask whoever to give my abilites to him and give his to me. Let him walk and speak and be one of the "regulars" so he can maybe do something with it better than I have. Let me sit in a wheelchair and not do anything - cause that's exactly what I am doing now. Give it to someone else in the hopes they do better with it than I.
I suppose that moment will come. Because each day that goes by, I find it harder and harder to live with myself as I am now, doing nothing. Making no difference in the world, or for anyone else's life.