You ain’t seen the best of me yet. Give me time, I’ll make you forget the rest. I can grab your heart til it breaks…
August appears to be a month of greatness. Legends have been born and have died in this month that sees the waning of summer descending upon us. Four of our nation’s leaders came along including current President Barack Obama, while baseball great Mickey Mantle went to the field of dreams.
There have been years that I take an annual retreat in August – just an overnighter so that I can be reminded how much I love coming back home to my husband and my two purring baby girls. The economy has made it more difficult to indulge in this luxury, but the waves are calling me. Sometimes indulgence is the necessity.
It’s a time to reflect on my impact in the world. Looking around, trying to size up my footprint. So easily are our tracks in the sand washed away in the tides to be forgotten, until we take the next step, leaving another print.
Each word I write is a sandy step. It’s my way to plant my foot firmly into the wet grains, but as soon as the waves crash, there’s another clean slate to inscribe.
I’m not a worldly person. I’m not cultural, my little world is very important to only me and it’s a full time job to stay aware of what’s around me, I quite often forget to look up at the stars and remember there are millions of people around the globe staring at those same wish-catchers.
Tonight, my dinner was interrupted by my husband’s excitement at a roving robot like something or other landing on Mars. I didn’t have a clue what was happening, nor do I understand the concept of why it’s such a big deal. I mean, we’ve traveled into space plenty, what makes this one different? Don’t tell me; like the intricacy that is Star Wars, I’ll never get it. Roger was being silly when I asked him to explain it as he watched a live feed of a cheering NASA – “It’s a moment the whole world is excited about, except for Kymberlie.” But… I felt left out.
Then, an hour later, I stumbled across a post on the effect of AIDS on our current culture, and I expressed my sadness. Educating others on sexual diseases and encouraging safe sex is something I believe in strongly. Ignorance is what’s killing us; of our options, and of the actions of others. I replied with my support of this post, and was surprised to receive this message back, almost as if it came in a bottle from the sea: “You are such an ally. I get that you are aware of a whole lot. I see how you stand out in your support. You inspire me.”
Evidence of a footprint.
Legacies find their home in this eighth month, so named for the Roman Emporer Augustus, because several fortunate events of his life occurred in this time. It’s been 50 years today, August 5th, that Marilyn Monroe was found dead, the same day Lucille Ball was born 101 years ago. My grandmother and pop legend Madonna entered the world on August 16th, Elvis Presley left it on the same day, some years later. The great voice that was Whitney Houston graced us on August 9th, long before Jerry Garcia went ridin’ that train outward bound, the same day as my own birthday.
Yeah. That’s right. Remember my name.
See, I had a vision, was left in the cold. I had a story that had to be told. I’ve lived and I’ve gone, it’s not a game, I’ma make sure you remember my name…
August appears to be a month of greatness. Legends have been born and have died in this month that sees the waning of summer descending upon us. Four of our nation’s leaders came along including current President Barack Obama, while baseball great Mickey Mantle went to the field of dreams.
There have been years that I take an annual retreat in August – just an overnighter so that I can be reminded how much I love coming back home to my husband and my two purring baby girls. The economy has made it more difficult to indulge in this luxury, but the waves are calling me. Sometimes indulgence is the necessity.
It’s a time to reflect on my impact in the world. Looking around, trying to size up my footprint. So easily are our tracks in the sand washed away in the tides to be forgotten, until we take the next step, leaving another print.
Each word I write is a sandy step. It’s my way to plant my foot firmly into the wet grains, but as soon as the waves crash, there’s another clean slate to inscribe.
I’m not a worldly person. I’m not cultural, my little world is very important to only me and it’s a full time job to stay aware of what’s around me, I quite often forget to look up at the stars and remember there are millions of people around the globe staring at those same wish-catchers.
Tonight, my dinner was interrupted by my husband’s excitement at a roving robot like something or other landing on Mars. I didn’t have a clue what was happening, nor do I understand the concept of why it’s such a big deal. I mean, we’ve traveled into space plenty, what makes this one different? Don’t tell me; like the intricacy that is Star Wars, I’ll never get it. Roger was being silly when I asked him to explain it as he watched a live feed of a cheering NASA – “It’s a moment the whole world is excited about, except for Kymberlie.” But… I felt left out.
Then, an hour later, I stumbled across a post on the effect of AIDS on our current culture, and I expressed my sadness. Educating others on sexual diseases and encouraging safe sex is something I believe in strongly. Ignorance is what’s killing us; of our options, and of the actions of others. I replied with my support of this post, and was surprised to receive this message back, almost as if it came in a bottle from the sea: “You are such an ally. I get that you are aware of a whole lot. I see how you stand out in your support. You inspire me.”
Evidence of a footprint.
Legacies find their home in this eighth month, so named for the Roman Emporer Augustus, because several fortunate events of his life occurred in this time. It’s been 50 years today, August 5th, that Marilyn Monroe was found dead, the same day Lucille Ball was born 101 years ago. My grandmother and pop legend Madonna entered the world on August 16th, Elvis Presley left it on the same day, some years later. The great voice that was Whitney Houston graced us on August 9th, long before Jerry Garcia went ridin’ that train outward bound, the same day as my own birthday.
Yeah. That’s right. Remember my name.
See, I had a vision, was left in the cold. I had a story that had to be told. I’ve lived and I’ve gone, it’s not a game, I’ma make sure you remember my name…
© Kymberlie Ingalls, August 6, 2012
Lyrics: Fame / Irene Cara (1980) Fame / Naturi Naughton feat. Collins Pennie (2009)
