from zero to eighty one

From Zero to Eighty One   

  1934

    You were a year and ten months, already walking, not yet talking. “Early walker, late talker” became a nickname you only understood later. You started life as a quiet one, but the curiosity in your head was always loud. September baby, bright eyes, big cheeks, brown hair, bold heart. “Mama” was the first thing you ever said. One word, four letters, barely a second. That’s all it took to make your single mother shed joyful tears, to warm a heart, broken by a man you’d never call dad.  

   You grew up, too fast it felt, and your curious thoughts became curious words. At nine you began to question Santa’s existence, at ten you pondered the world around you, at twelve you started to look at girls with wonder, and at fourteen you worried about what you wore and who it would impress. You moved the summer before freshman year, it was far from your old area, and you started high school feeling awfully alone. But your zany charm and ability to make friends made things easier. There were times when life got pretty messy, overwhelming, stressful, and you’d wish you were a kid again. “I’ll do it later” you’d routinely say, becoming a nasty habit. Four words, twelve letters, everyday. That’s all it took to bring your marks from ninety down to nothing higher than a seventy, to disappoint a proud mom, and yourself.   

   You finally took her out for dinner, the girl every guy wanted. She was popular, but very kind, which made her likable. It was your first real date, but you weren’t nervous. Oh, far from that. Your body spoke with confidence, a language your mother taught you. Open body, good posture, welcoming smile. Your bold heart and curiosity caught her attention, until her attention became affection. And your late night thoughts of her became mid-day thoughts; eventually there was rarely a time when she wasn’t on your mind. You liked that she reminded you to take care of yourself, because most days you'd forget. She was exactly what you needed at the time. And one day, you looked into her hazel green eyes, with confidence; “I love you.” It was the first time you said it, the first time you felt it was right. Three words, eight letters, one breath. That’s all it took to bring two young hearts closer, only to be pulled apart one day. She was the first girl you loved, but she wasn’t the last.  

   You figured things out, picked up your grades, wanted to be a lawyer, and became super popular by junior year. Life was a lot better, and you were much more self aware. You finally spoke to the boy with no friends, who was never really awake in class. “Sick shoes” you said. Two words, nine letters, one second. That’s all it took to put a silly smile on his face as he lay in bed, dealing with his insomnia. Every night he’d only get an hour of sleep, but that night he got an extra.   

You defended a quiet girl from the nasty comments shot at her like bullets, sinking into her stomach, into her lungs, her back, arms, face, heart. “Leave her alone” you demanded, in front of a crowd. Three words, thirteen letters, two seconds. That’s all it took to make a new friend, a friend you ended up loving.

“I do.” You said nine years and six months later, in front of a much bigger crowd. Two words, three letters, one promise. That’s all it took to make you the happiest man on earth.

    You were a police investigator, married to an amazing women, with a good amount of money. Your mom was still with the man she met years ago, and she was happy. Life was better than you ever thought it’d be. But you still had your bad days, and sometimes, you took the overwhelming stress of work home to your wife. “I need to be alone” you’d mutter, only pushing her away. Five words, fourteen letters, stressed thoughts. That’s all it took to end up sleeping on the couch, after quite a few drinks, with investigation papers scattered on the table.   

    You fell in love all over again as soon as you held your newborn daughter for the first time. From the moment you looked at her, felt her grip, and heard her tiny heart beat; you fell in love. You were going to protect her for as long as you lived. She was lucky to have a dad like you, and a mom like her. Parents who would support her no matter what, and encourage her to be herself. You wanted to be the best dad you could be, to show your daughter you were better than your own dad. “My princess.” You said, holding her like you’d hold the world. Two words, ten letters, unconditional love. That’s all it took to make you cry, and you weren’t a man who typically cried.   

   You went out for a drink with a good friend from high school. He still had nice shoes. The night was alive, and you wanted to be out. You were turning thirty-nine in a week, a day after your daughter would turn three. She grew up fast, you felt. September baby, blue eyes, brown hair, big smile, brave heart. She was a lot like you as a kid, not as quiet, but still as curious. She got her mothers blue eyes, and smile. She was the perfect mix between two quite perfect people. You gulped the last bit of beer and put your hand on your friends shoulder, with a nostalgic smile etched onto your face. After you started talking to him more, back in high school, he began to open up. He wasn’t a quiet guy, for he actually had a lot to say. You eventually helped him beat his insomnia, because you knew the root of it. You were good at helping people that way, all you needed was to dig deep. “Thanks for everything” he muttered, a little drunker than you were. Three words, nineteen letters, five drinks. That’s all it took to bring two men even closer, on a busy Friday night. He was one of your closest friends for a while, but in high school you and him were from different worlds. You were Mr. Popular and he was Mr. Nobody. But there you both were, sharing drinks, with a ring on his hand and one on your hand.

  2015

    You lay in that bed, wrinkled skin, droopy eyes. Your three kids, all grown up, were by your side; your wife, she was with you in your heart; soon you were going to see her again. Your only daughter held your hand and a tear rolled down her cheek. You managed to smile, despite how weak you felt. But you were happy; you weren’t scared. You lived a long life, filled with adventure, excitement, pain, love, curiosity; it was exactly how life was supposed to be. You kissed your daughters forehead first, the oldest, then your second son’s, and finally your youngest; a man who was a lot like yourself. You had grandchildren you adored, whom you already said your goodbyes; but they were also there with you, in spirit. Everyone you ever loved, ever story you ever told, every laugh you had, every tear you shed, every curious thought, every mistake; it was there. 

“Life will be hard, painful, exhausting, you name it. But life is the most beautiful gift that two people give you. If you don’t remember that; if you don’t appreciate it, the gift will be wasted. I didn’t waste my gift, but at times, I could have appreciated it more. Learn to love what we gave you, it’s yours for a reason.”  You said, with a voice that was brittle; well worn. 

“Sometimes” you went on, your words becoming weaker with every breath, “it’s the smallest gestures you make that have the biggest outcome. Sometimes, a few words, is all it takes.”

With that, your eyes fluttered closed, gracefully. 

"You're an amazing father." Your daughter, now forty five, whispered. But you were no longer there, and a soulful sob escaped her lips. 

You had your last breath, final thought, and died with a small smile on your face; of relief, but mostly satisfaction.

Reviews

[Robert Parlange]

I like this style. A life in snapshots.

You should do more fiction.

[Anika]

Thank you, I'm glad you took the time to read it, and I definitely will