February 24, 2024: Foresight
I have written quite a bit about hindsight. I have written nothing about foresight. I guess I never foresaw my doing this. I am glad to have lived a life in which there has been considerable change, enough so that I have looked back and said “I would not imagine that I would. . .” I think that for the most part I would have been happy to find out what was ahead, although at the same time incredulous. I would like to have known when I was in my first two years of college that I would not end up back in Rochester, NY. Looking back, this was a very real fear. I knew that if went back there during vacations that I might have ended up back there for good, because a job, even a temporary one, would have rooted me, this at a time when I did not wish to be rooted. Also, friends and family demands would have rooted me. |
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I would have also been anxious if I’d known where I’d be in 10, 20, 30 plus years. We humans are never given this opportunity. Animals don’t care, or they or seem not to. But I can’t help but wonder if horses, when they are loaded into a trailer, wonder where they might end up. It really is anybody’s guess. No wonder some of them hesitate and others flat out refuse to get into the boxes. Today I found myself thinking “I would never have imagined that I would be at the Palmer, Alaska downtown Art Fest, passing out books to appreciative readers, and trying out a new activity with kids. The activity was what I called thumbprints. The kids put their thumbs on a stamp pad, then pressed their thumbs onto a note card. I had a book on hand, they could look and see what they might draw. The kids (there were just a handful) really enjoyed this activity. It was fast, but they did have time to focus on what they were doing. I am definitely going to do this again. Yeah, to go back to Rochester – if, when I was sitting on the front porch of the last place we lived, on Driving Park Avenue, I had been told by a passing stranger that on February 24, 2024, I’d be living in Palmer, Alaska and heading in the direction of the Palmer Train Depot in order to pedal books and begin my forays into literacy-related activities, I would not have believed this, but been glad to hear it. At the time, my world view was very limited. I had been no further west than Batavia, New York, which is on the outskirts of Buffalo. I had been to Quebec and Boston with my mother and sister – going on these trips had convinced me that I would someday spend time in other places as well. Alaska – it was distant and very cold. And here I am. And where will I be ten years from now? I haven’t a clue, which is a good thing. |
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