Oh, am I ever thirsty right now! I have been clicking installations for the past two hours non-stop. Who would want to update to a new browser when the old one was actually just refined to the Nth detail and working perfectly. Yup. me. Gee, what dumb things I manage to set for myself when I could be doing other things, eh?
So, here it is, starting the day off with a new pack of smokes, a cup of cold coffee, a new browser, a new blog page, and (this is a test) reloading my bookmarks. I do want everything to work. The first thing that happened was that my browser turned off my AVG antivirus program as being not compatible. Gee, the list of not compatible programs really hurts when I think about this for a moment. Maybe I am not such a geek afterall.
It really makes me think, you know. I do remember such a short few years way back in my past that affects me even now. I know those two years were actually much longer, but it is only one more thing about the unbelievable part of my experiences back then. Then, I look around me, sigh, and think of the things i have, the things I do, and the world I live in at this moment. How is it that there are two such separate worlds that I have lived in and what I live in now?
I was twelve when my life changed so dramatically. I am now fifty-eight years of age. Forty-six years have passed while i have lived with a hidden, burning hot and intensely vivid memory of a promise made to me. I was to wait forty-two years at least for a possible return. It would take that long for the shortest return trip. It would take proportionally longer depending upon the circumstances involved. Then again, there might not be any trip at all. Hm. These are things I have no control over although there are vague possibilities hinting at probable outcomes.
I can’t begin to describe how I feel about all of this. I know it would be difficult to describe everything in context. And, I doubt that there could be anyone who would believe the implications of even some of my experiences. Yet, it remains to me that I must continue to live as I do, waiting for the time when all of the predictions will come to pass, when the end of my time will be possible in one way or another. Then, there is the memory that I have of one possible inevitability that I seem to be carrying out even now. I can only say that “Just is,” continues as it does.
I know that somehow I get help when I need it most. I know that there are things that become adjusted as I encounter those specific circumstances to stabilize and finalize paradoxes I can’t even begin to imagine to exist. But, there have been innumerable times when I knew that there were markers set and people met as if in verification of the timeline I am presently plodding along. Even so, there are times when I don’t dare to let certain other circumstances from existing as if their simple presence would infer direst of unlikely consequences. Somehow I am warned when to run or not.
Running. Running makes me think of the time when I was on the ground, uneven and softly unstable ground. The morraine ran in a generally north to south line as if following the course of a river when the morraine existed long before melting glaciers fed streams that became the river. The morraine was honeycombed with trenches and tunnels that were the fortified defenses of a border between two separate countries. Defenses of some sort had existed down through history as armies battled along, down, or up the slopes that soaked and eroded with blood. Now, an army quietly rested for the light of day when Hell would be unleashed in the old Roman way once more.
The darkness hid the might of the army hidden entrenched within the fortified defenses on the crest of the morraine. Across the river lay a land slumbering peacefully while the politics of the previous day furrowed the brows of many who dreamt dreams of nightmarish political entanglements. It was the night before an invasion, unheralded but for the prophecy and the ending of politics.
The darkest moment of night was split by blinding white light. A moment later, a particularly large explosion thundered with a repercussive blast. That initial blast continued in a drum roll of more explosions. The southern most crest of the morraine’s fortified defenses erupted by an attack. The attack was a complete annihilation of munitions and personnel ensconced within the breached defenses. The attack rolled northward, carrying away large portions of the morraine’s crest in more notable explosions.
A night guard, some eighty-five miles to the north of the initial attack, lit a cigarette and puffed into the cold night. A bit of light far to the south attracted the guard’s attention, who muttered to another guard standing nearby, “Someone’s getting it badly. Wouldn’t want to be there.”
The night sky was lit brightly by the rolling series of explosions. Nothing moved behind the initial blasts, while ahead there was a visible view of frantic activity. Personnel poured out into the trenches and onto the flats behind as if their activity might save their lives. The rows of explosions advanced upon them leaving nothing but scorched earth behind.
The light of the explosions was intense enough to cause heat on the far side of the river. Those defenders could only stand and stare at the carnage being laid waste upon the opposite shore. They stood shocked still in the night turned into day by the patterns of explosions that shook the morraine so fiercely. The fury of explosions advanced towards the north on the far shore, leaving burning pyres and blackened earth in it’s wake.
The black that was night sky hinted of coming light while rows of brilliant explosions went on their way along the crest of that domed morraine. By the faintest light, a flight of half a dozen fighters armed and launched from a dark strip of flat to help defend against the attack on the southern most positions. There was no word of the attack from the battle line, but the visible light reflecting off of high clouds in that direction told of something happening.
The formation formed up at high altitude and almost half way to the area of concern. Still in formation, they swept down in attack against something moving quickly across the ground. Two craft exploded in midair. Two more peeled away in a glide, damaged, before they crashed. The last two made good their diving attacks without scoring against the moving ground unit.
The ground unit continued to attack the morraine’s defenses successfully. Long minutes passed while the two fighters whirled around to attack the ground unit for the second time. The leading fighter began a dive that ended at ground level. The last fighter was able to pull up before the engine failed and a final glide began. That fighter crashed some distance away, with the surviving pilot blinded but otherwise unscratched.
The attack against the ensconced battle units continued through the night and into the early morning. Sunrise came to the morraine that was deserted and silent. The battle units that were still unaccounted for had been left far behind a quickly advancing front. The incident at the morraine was never forgotten, but it was never mentioned either.
It was at Christmas dinner in 1984 when my family invited an old man to join us for turkey dinner. We sat around a full table laden with all of the heaped foodstuffs of Christmas. We had a large turkey in the middle of the table, surrounded by bowls of potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, peas, stuffing, and gravy. We ate till we couldn’t eat anymore.
After we had finished our feast, we sat on the couch beside the Christmas tree. A present under the tree was brightly wrapped for the blind old man who was our Christmas guest that year. He was a pilot when he had a wife and son. They had lived together for many years until she passed away with pneumonia a few years before. Now, he lived with his son and worried about crossing a street although he was fearless before he was blinded during the seventh time he had been shot down. I cried. He had been the only one to survive.
