One Generation and Another

My mother's best friend stayed in touch all their lives.  Every trip meant a post-card, every holiday a greeting.  By the time their 50th high school reunion came around, they were both eager to get back to Jacksonville.

Mom's friend had been her tennis partner in high school, and they made a run for the state tournament the last year.  Having a familiar name in Galveston, and later in Indianapolis, she was always a fun guest to see in the hometown.

Taking Mom to her reunion, my son rode along.

"How did she get to Jacksonville today?"  he asked.

"I think in her plane." Mom replied.

"She flew a plane???" he asked.

"Oh, probably not.  I think she has a pilot now!"

"Probably not???  You mean what?"

"Well, Amelia Earhart was her idol when we were in high school, and she got a license early on.  She's flown all over the world, and her husband has the record for being the oldest licensed pilot in Indiana.  But today, I imagine her pilot flew the plane for her." Mom filled him in.

There was a long, almost silent sound from the back seat:  "Wow!"

My son discovered in that moment that folks now old, in fact with LOTS of years, haven't always BEEN old.  She and her husband had flown all over the world, hired pilots when they needed them, and finally graduated to a company plane when they no longer wanted to own one personally.  She had studied Amelia Earhart just like my son had studied Luke Skywalker and a whole collection of basketball players.

And it was just like the day that my Dad said to me and to my son, "Now, when you go to Austin, and visit the State Capitol, don't you be even thinking about crawling out a second floor window and walking that ridge that goes all the way around the outside of the building.  Don't even think about it!"  Which immediately did two things:  first, it made us look at that ridge and check out that it was possible to do it!  and second, re-envision my Dad as an adventurous teenager!

What do you see?  Ah, what do you perceive?  I see an older neighbor all ancient and stooped, but I perceive a 19-year old fearless young man (hidden inside) who flew back and forth over Omaha Beach, in the early morning darkness, flying paratroopers behind the enemy lines on D-Day.

Seeing doesn't amount to much without the perceiving!  And there's a world to perceive all around us.