Insane Earthlings

It was crowded at Onie’s, the lakefront hamburger joint. This was a regular stop on our family boat outings on Lake Norman.  The lake boasted 525 miles of shoreline full of deep coves to explore.  Dad was Captain. We would seek out glass surfaced coves for skiing or private spots to drop anchor and go for a swim.  Sometimes we would beach the boat on a sandy, wooded island and spend time hanging out with other boating enthusiasts. Mom might pack a picnic, or we would head to Onie’s place. Dad had mastered the skill of smoothly docking the boat. My job, at age ten, was to jump out of the boat onto the dock and grab the handrail on the bow to make sure we stopped in just the right place.   Then I would quickly and neatly tie off the boat to the cleat. Boat secured, we headed into the grill pronounced Oh-Nies. I remember this one occasion clearly. Mom secured a table for us.  The entire lake   had only  two places you could dock you...

Three months Forty Weeks Fifteen Hours Seven months 12 months 18 months Five years Fifteen years Sixteen years Eighteen years Twenty-one years Nine seconds Twenty  One hundred sixty to one hundred eighty One and ninety-six one hundredths minutes Fifty-three  Two billion three hundred sixty-six million seven hundred sixty-nine thousand four hundred fifty It takes a couple on average three months to conceive life. It takes Forty weeks to carry a baby to full term. It takes an average of fifteen hours of labor to give birth. It takes seven months for that baby to learn to crawl. It takes 12 months on average for our children to start taking steps. Your child needs about eighteen months to begin talking. We start kindergarten after five years of life. We relish or regret our first kiss about fifteen years in. It takes us sixteen years to enjoy the freedom of driving a car. We earn the right to vote or fight for our country only ...

It feels like the earth is wobbling on its axis. The stars don’t line up in the sky quite the way they used to. I need to get to the ocean so I can look at the horizon and make sure it’s still there. Is there still a sharp line that separates the ocean from the sky? Or has the sea begun to leak into the atmosphere blurring the delineation between heaven and earth? I need evidence that our world is not tumbling off course. I need assurance that the sun is still holding fast to us, not letting us slip from the safety of its gravitational embrace. My mother died less than three months ago. I hadn’t realized that she was responsible for maintaining the balance of the universe. But it must be so, because since she has left everything seems off kilter.   I find myself searching for something to hold on to. Or someone to hold me so that I stay on my feet. Who is going to hold out their arms to hug me every single time they see me? Who can I talk to on the phone every night...