Back

Now that I am back from summer vacation and holidays, it is time for school to start. September is the store call for “Back to School” savings. The streets will be quieter now that the children are back in school and traffic won’t be backed up until after the bell rings at 3:30. I don’t like to get my back up about erratic drivers, but then again, when someone backs up into my bumper in the parking lot, I can get very irritated. Back to the story.

It used to be that we had to backup all our computer files, but now we have google docs. We used to say, “be right back” and now we just text an emoji or leave a voice message. Friends had each other’s backs but we still pat babies on their backs to get that burp up. Most of the time we can back up our truths with facts and still caress a lover’s back. Do people still have backbones to stand up against injustices like bullies?

When I look back in time, it astounds me how things have changed. Even the greenback isn’t worth as much today and there is a lot more push back from different segments of society. It raises the hair on the back of some politician’s necks. We would say, “back in the day” or “if we could just push back time” then things would be different. Oh how wonderful things were then. Some days I just want to slide back down under the covers and let the memories come back to me. Other days I sit in the sun as it shines on the back of my head and a bird perches on the back fence watching me write.

My most interesting days are when I see the stooped, white-haired lady in my neighborhood, only visible to those watching, shuffle and shuttle her feet along the grey concrete sidewalk to check her mail at the mailboxes. She is certainly not invisible to me and I dash from what I am doing to greet her and engage in conversations of “back in the day”. As we stroll along, she recalls tales of her childhood and her memory extends from years so far back that even some history books can’t capture all the details of events passed long ago during her lifetime. She recounts tales of yesteryear. She leans her head back as we sit on the bench midway through our stroll and she asks me, “Will he ever come back?”

Is she indicating the empty nest in the oak tree above our heads? Perhaps she is referring to a lost lover. And so I ask her, “Who?”

Her reply back to me is simply one word, “Jesus.”

So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him. Matthew 24:44