I’ve noticed as I’ve grown older that I long more and more for
the days when I was a child.
Like the main character in the classic Twilight Zone episode
‘Walking Distance’ I too would like to return to simpler, less complicated and innocent
times of my childhood.
Back then life seemed filled with endless possibilities. Responsibilities were no more complicated
than going to school, doing chores and just being a kid. No worries, no urgency and the sheer joy of
life dominated each moment.
But, if I look back with honest eyes I'll discover that life
back then wasn’t as rosy as I’d like to remember it.
There were hard times, sad times, times of want, moments
when I felt as if I would never grow up, instances when I wish grown-ups and my
own peers would take me more seriously and long stretches of minutes when my
young mind realized that my childhood would not last forever.
Cars were less dependable, clothes needed ironing, and
there were fewer choices in clothing, household goods, electronics and everyday
items. Not at all like today.
At my young age I didn’t see the many social injustices
that were occurring all about me, never realized the pressure parents were
under to pay bills, take care of their kids, save for retirement or budget their
paychecks.
I didn’t understand the scope of the war in Vietnam or know
of the thousands of young men and women not much old than I who were dying
every day.
I had no knowledge of the thousands of families across America
who went to bed each night hungry and uncertain of the future, let alone the poverty,
violence, hatred and desperate times all over the world.
Saturday morning cartoons, toys, playing with my friends,
going to the movies, sleepovers, baseball, carnivals, no school summers,
Christmas, Thanksgiving, plenty to eat, a nice home, family and friends, warm
clothing, money in my pocket and candy, cokes and sweets occupied most of my time.
Never mind the rest of the world’s problems; I wouldn’t
have understood it anyway.
I write reviews. I
surround myself with items from my youth: comic books, toys, trading cards,
model kits and the like. They remind me
of my past. But, they’re all lies, false
fabrications of a boyhood that didn’t really exist-at least not as I imagine
it.
I can’t go back, nor do I want to. I have a wonderful wife, two great kids, a new grandson, an awesome church, a nice home, good friends, plenty of food and clothing and all the creature
comforts a man could ever want. Most importantly,
I have God and he has me.
Every few years I have the opportunity to visit my
childhood home in Milford, Michigan. It’s nothing like I remember it. The stores and faces have changed. I no longer recognize the buildings, streets,
parks and swimming holes-they’ve all changed.
No, today will be someone else’s past. Their childhood memories are yet to come. When they get older perhaps they will reminisce
about their past, such as I do. And they’ll
come to the same conclusion as I have.
I only have today.
The past is dead-only its shadows linger in my mind and memory. The ghosts of long lost friends and family
populate my daydreams. I can never bring
them back.
Still, I occasionally slip into a fond memory frame of
mind. And just for a moment, when I’m
reading a comic book I bought new as a child—I feel my lost innocence—I recapture
my summers—see old friends and long gone loved ones—taste that special milkshake
treat- smell the spring flowers and feel the water rush over my head as I plunge
headfirst into my favorite swimming hole.
I’m old-but only in body.
My mind is as young as it ever was and someday after my life is over I’ll
see my Savior and then I’ll really start living.