Rabbit Trails and Spiderwebs

The indulgence It started with the simple awareness of it.   That bit of pretentiousness reveals it had started long before and it was only the naivety that I was unaware of its working, which was new. I walked through my days and would occasionally spin the dial of my memory and the item chosen came to mind.   Random selection or intentional choice, the memory was a simple trail to a place of remembrance.   The idea that it is a good memory, or a place of turmoil is part of the surprise.   That you would choose a selection on purpose is to find a value there. So, when you think of your good memory you are buoyed and rejuvenated.   Able to proceed, to be strong and encouraged. I think of my Grandmother and am brought to a memory of a woman that had dealt with many trials in her life.   She had lived in a Sod House as a child on the prairie.   Dealing with bugs and rain and snakes, having to “sweep the dirt floor” and straighte...

The Secret Pocket I watched surreptitiously.   Not sneaking a peek, really, but watching unaware.   I was young and as such not regarded.   But the hand went to the belt, and then returned. I was not sure what was there, but I knew that it was something worthwhile.   Worthy of keeping, but not to be shown.   Years went by.   The behavior didn’t stop, and it didn’t change, even though the places and people and times changed.   I was older now, but still not clear on what was transpiring.   So, I asked. “Grandpa?”, I started, “why do you do that?” “What is going on?”   He was surprised, but only a little, at my bold and direct manner. We were able to see into each other’s eyes… he knew he could not put me off on this.   “It is my secret pocket”, he said.   “A place that I don’t show to others.” “You have one as well, but it is in a different place for you”.   I pondered a bit, but I had no places that we...