• 72°

Write Again…It was half a century ago

Right up front, let me be candid with you, friends. Today’s column is a “re-run.”

That’s right, it was written quite a while ago, 1971 to be exact. And why am I reaching back for today’s journalistic endeavor? Because, to be quite honest, I can’t seem to come up with a topic that I feel might be of at least a little interest to some of you. Maybe next week will be different. 

This column was titled “Always Together.” So here it is:

“Almost every day I see them together. Mother and child. Always together.

“Holding hands, crossing streets, sitting on their steps. Mother and daughter. 

“Such a relationship. Beautiful, yet somehow painful to see. Two children really.

“For you see, the mother isn’t mentally balanced. And I suppose that the child must fall a little short, too. 

“But their partnership is uniquely warm and wonderful. Love is there. 

“When the child is in school the mother spends the entire day at the edge of the playground, weather permitting, waiting for the return of that which once again means happiness to her. Almost as if waiting for her cub.

“The child is growing up. Perhaps being pulled apart from her anxious, watchful mother. The days ahead will not be easy. The mother will not let go without a struggle.

“The wide-eyed little girl is seeing and experiencing so many new things. Things that now lie outside the pale of her mother’s environment or comprehension. 

“They live together in a run-down house on a very busy street. Together they see the mainstream of life flood by. Pass them by.

“Wherever they go they walk. Hand in hand. 

“I do not know what the future holds for this child. Or for her mother.

“But I do know that these are two very special human beings. And some place, some time, there will be a special place for them.

“I’m sure of this.”

The mother passed away many years ago, I believe. The house they lived in was torn down ages ago also. Whatever happened to the child I’ve never known. 

I think of them still.

I think, also, of what Forrest Gump said: “I know I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.”

Shalom to each of you.