I spent most of today thinking about 50 years ago.
I remember leafing through my mother's "year" books, each one the size of an encyclopedia, each one a tome of history for that year. I often turned to 1963 and read of the assassination. I looked through the black and white pictures of the tragedy. And I thought of how long ago that was.
Today, I realized that '63 was only 14 years before my birth. Not that long ago. And I realized how the course of events over 14 years can change the world.
I often compose these posts in my mind as I travel home from the ice arena. And while I wanted to write about JFK, my mind shifted to other things.
Tonight, I worked with several close friends. They always ask about my family. They always ask about my mother. As I started the night, it was with a light heart and I was focused on the task ahead. Post game, as I looked through my email, things changed.
Mom is fighting again. Not that she ever stopped. Her body has fought, the drugs have fought and the science has found different ways to make things work. That has changed once again. Her cancer has moved into her shoulder, her neck and is active again in her liver.
With this comes a great deal of emotion. Fear. Love.
I know she will once again pick up her gauntlet and fight. I know we will stand beside her, our friends will stand beside us and strangers we have never known will help her through.
As I walked out, a second friend asked how my family was and my answer had changed.
My drive home was lifted by music. My eyes were wet but my soul was strong. Songs of old, memories in black and white sifted through my mind and guided me to my door.
And now, here we go again.
"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war..."
Mom, we will all cast aside those ensigns of peace. We too shall carry this gauntlet with you.
