Of Life and Times

What seems like many years ago, I went to Vegas. I was heading down for a business trip by myself, and was going to stop in to Las Vegas to see some old friends before heading over to my meetings. It was December 31st, and late in the evening. I had hit a deer on the way down, and still had clumps of deer hair and flesh wedged into the crevices of my passenger side of the car. I was tired from a long drive and sleep apnea, which is what caused me to hit the deer.

I left Utah and started down through the canyons toward the valley floor to get to Las Vegas, and I had the surprise of my life. There were no lights on the side of the highway, no cars, no homes, no businesses, just the mountains and me in the inky blackness of the night. As I rounded one bend of the road the first sight of the city took my breath away. Usually when you think of Las Vegas you think of the Strip, glaring lights and glitz everywhere. From where I was none of that was visible, or at least not discernible. I pulled off the road to get a better view.

As I walked to the edge of a cliff and looked at the valley below me it was as though I was floating alone in the black vastness of space. All I could see above me was stars, and around me darkness. But in front of me was a golden net that had been cast by celestial fisherman, but frozen in mid cast. The lights of the city sparkled at that distance. All was golden glitter on a sea of black. The silence, the serenity, the beautiful grandeur of that moment is emblazoned in my mind. I hope I never forget it. Nothing moved, it just existed, it just was.

I could trace some of the lights in imaginary lines, but most just seemed to be like a cloud of glitter that had frozen in place as it settled on the valley floor. It was so peaceful and surreal. I don't know how long I stood out on that cliff in the freezing night just gazing at the web of twinkling gold in front of me. I wanted so much to reach out and touch it to see if it was real.

I know that what I saw clashes jarringly with the reality of Las Vegas, but in those few moments the magic was palpable.

These thoughts have been brewing for several days, but did not come together until last night. Elaine and I went to Paul and Tami's house to watch PJ. I have been watching parents and their young children of late, thinking about what I was thinking when I was in their time of life.

When I was younger and was just starting a family, I remember worrying to myself that Eleanor's parents weren't coming to get her. She is our oldest child. That lasted for days. Eventually she became part of our routine. Well actually, she became the routine. But it was a long time before I felt like she was part of me. I don't know if others have that trouble with their first child, but I did. I spent a lot of time looking at her and trying to imagine what she would look like or act like as a teenager or adult. Though my mind came up with all the cultural cliches that I was raised to expect to happen to any young woman, I still could not see past that little sleeping form in my arms.

Now that I have raised, not only Eleanor, but four others as well, and each of them has grown up and moved away, most to start their own families, my perspective is vastly different. I look at PJ, for example, and see him as he might be in kindergarten, as a Deacon or Priest. I see the potential for rebellion and the potential for a Mission and marriage. Now I can play out his life in so many ways, each based on the events of his life, the attitudes of his parents, and his personal decisions. I can see it all because I have seen four children go through the process. It is all relevant experience for me. I've seen the variations on the general theme.

It puts me in awe of my mother who is watching a fourth generation grow up. I can't imagine what her perspective must be.

Friday of last week my wallet was stolen from my front yard. I guess it fell out of my pocket when I got out of the car and someone picked it up and ran off with it. It was not like they could not tell who owned it, I had every ID I owned in there. But despite the loss of the money, credit cards, ID cards, etc. the one piece of paper in that whole wallet that means more to me than everything else combined is my social security card.

When I was twelve years old we were living in Alaska. My parents told me that we had to get a social security card for me. Some new rule or something. When I received my card I felt so grown up. I was now recognized by the Federal Government as a real person. Don't ask me now why that is supposed to be anything special. I guess to a twelve year old boy there is an air of mystery surrounding something like that. Over the years I guarded my wallet like a she-wolf. No one was going to throw me into a pool or get my social security card wet, it was my original. Well, I was able to protect it for almost 41 years before losing it. I guess that is better than many. What I miss about it is that it has the signature of my 12 year old self on it. The signature is so old and faded as to have lost its visual appeal, but it reminds me of who and what I was a long time ago. I'll miss my old companion. We have been through a lot of living together. Come to think of it, I have lost a lot of my visual appeal as well. Hmm ...

For the welfare of those who maintain that we should not have any children to stop the world's growth, perhaps if their parents had had the same idea the problem would already be solved.