Of Ancient ones, times gone past and the issue with youthfulness

It is clearly an interesting point in life when we reach the time at which we constantly pursue that which is believed to be long gone, may it be a woman, a friend a time of joy or simply, our youthful beings which unbeknownst to us left for better times and pastures and left us hanging on for dear life while trying to juggle life in a way that let us at least, breathe comfortably, even if for a few minutes at a day.

I was talking to a friend (talking here being an euphemism for what passes as a conversation lately, a chat, a set of instant messages, a window if you will on a very tiny screen where messages are exchanged at the cost of facial expressions, hugs and carefully planned façades of perpetual emotions) and came to the conclusion that we (that is me) are old (am old, got older or simply put, left youth).

How we came to that conclusion (I came to it really) was in the way that most of these things come about, with heavy regret at a simply sentence that should we have timed the conversation better, may never have been uttered, like a floodgate into the "Elder gods realm" thoughts, demons and ancient beings, came through, unannounced yet not unexpected.

She's a lovely woman, craves the spotlight, needs the attention and, putting it mildly, deserves every second.  A kid, for his personality aside, he is certainly young into the world, was recently involved with her, but decided life, should not really be complicated, HOW DARE life thrust upon you responsibilities, dedication and more than that STRUCTURE!!

Clearly it was not meant to be.

That's when I noticed, life caught up to me and I was old.

Am old.

Will be old, well, can't say I will be though, clearly I went past the point where parties non-stop are my idea of a Saturday evening.

I disdain chaos, while I quite enjoy randomness, chaos is, simply put, not something I will dwell on.

There was a time, when I didn't mind not knowing how my day/weekend would come out, I used to travel with 3 sets of clothes in the car, a formal suit, a bathing/beach change and a sweater mountain get up, hiking boots were part of my "bug out" bag in the trunk.

These days I carry medicines, tools and some specific car replacement parts.

Old I tell you.

Yet not unhappy.

I've lived quite a life, I had great times, a lot of fun, and I did as much as I could with the lot I was given (, as stated on: 78. JESSIE B. RITTENHOUSE: My Wage) what I bargained for is what I was given, not a penny more, but no less than I deserved for sure.

I guess it is a sad time when you sit down and not see where your hard work has gone into, my mom used to say, "if you cannot remember what you spent money on, it probably didn't mean that much, did it?"

My life has meaning, my age has a reason to be; what I lived through has helped shape me today into somebody better (jeez at least I hope so!) and I don't regret the passing years, the days gone past, the lives not lived, the road not taken:

Clearly taken from Zen Pencils, go, visit you will not be dissappointed

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.	20

Robert Frost (1874–1963). 

Being young, all I really got to see were endless forks in the road, chances to take and lives yet to be lived!

Today I see not clearly defined paths, there are forks, but claims to each are present, ideas to follow and ways to better travel, for that is all we are, travellers along a road, may we meet and share the path, a drink and a few smiles, and in the end, farewell fellow traveller, our roads must diverge, and ain't that just a kick in the head?

Paradise Lost.

It's been a few days now that I haven't been able to spend the whole night sleeping.
Call it stress, call it worry, call it many things, the truth is, it's about my son.
He's doing all right, nothing to really worry about directly, but I do worry about the world he's going to be a part of.

Every night for the last month I wake up and look for him.  I either go to his room and see him sound asleep, or, when he decided to move to my bed in the middle of the night I have to check that he's there with me.

It didn't use to be like this.

I've been seeing more and more in the news the attack on civilians in Israel/Palestine, more children dying and being bombed out of existence, more and more orphans, more of the pain and suffering children of war.

At least Twenty one Children have died in Airstrikes in Gaza, children that had no vested interest in the conflict, children that were caught in the crossfire, out of 83 identified people, 21 children have been id'd and their names published

"It's hard to explain politics to children - they hear from other neighbourhood children that it’s Israel bombing Gaza again, but still I can’t give them an answer as to why," Umm Fadi, who lives in Tal al-Sultan with her husband and children, told Al Jazeera.

It makes me not sleep at night.

I can get up and check on my son, I am lucky enough that we don't suffer the struggles of war, the refugee status of the many, or the poverty of having to leave your home due to it being blasted under mortar fire, how many fathers don't have that "luxury" anymore?

That's not the only thing that keeps me awake at night anymore though.

It's at least once a month that I read that another child has gone missing in my country.  This didn't use to be the case; and I seriously doubt that it's just that the papers have taken on a Sensationalist view on publishing.
More and more children are being abducted by strangers, by their own families and in the best case scenario, are being just taken away.

Worst case scenario their abused and mutilated bodies are found weeks later.

This certainly keeps me up at night.

Accounting only from January to date, 84 Children under 18 years of age have gone missing, out of which 8 have been resolved.

Not even 10 %

Detail of the asked for statistic

Processed year:

2014

Type of period:

Per semester(s)

Processed period:

Both: January - December

Type of statistic:

Total reports (Younger than 18)

Result:

84

Percentage:

50.3%

On the basis of the total of reports during the processed period

Reports in the processed period:

167

Reports in the year:

167

Distribution by ages

From 0 to 2

0

From 3 to 5

0

From 6 to 8

2

From 9 to 11

2

From De 12 to 14

29

From 15 to 17

36

I sit on my bed at night, contemplating my kid and I worry that others are not so lucky, that reports just keep growing and more children are taken from their parents.

Today I read about a 6 year old that's been missing since Friday, apparently abused by her cousin, who not only took advantage of her but of her siblings as well.  The child, still missing will be looked for using Police Dogs.

That will most certainly keep me up at night.

I am lucky in that I get to wake up at night and walk over to my son and see him sleeping peacefully, but I certainly wish luck played no part of it.  I wish it was a certainty for all parents that their children rest at night, knowing that we, as grown ups, we as a society keep them safe and will do everything within our power to make life better for them.

I weep to know, this is all there is, luck and some well wishing among a notable few, I weep for those who's odds ran out; I weep for those that will walk over to an empty bed and mourn their loss.