Examined, Tried, Experienced

The future always seems so far off, so distant. Being of a young age I already have plenty of things that I have done or not done that I will remember in fifty years. I have already carved a part of my reputation into a brick wall and part of it into the sand. One part will wash away and one part will live on for everyone to see.

When my legs refuse to transport me to the places I desire I hope I will have the opportunity to say that they’ve already been everywhere. I hope that I can say the sand of all seven seas have been crushed between my toes. I hope to say that my hair has been caked in desert sand and my hands have made priceless inventions. And my eyes! If ever my mouth reaches the point of the inability to verbally communicate I hope my eyes will have seen riches and beauty to satisfy my quiet self till the end. I want to be able to relive, in my mind, the view from thousands of feet up as I will have skydived and I want to be able to to sit on my porch swing and with all my senses be able to appreciate a lived life.

Smell)

When my nose begins to deceive me I want to be able to remember all the scents that I have enjoyed and be able to provide caution to certain scents of disgust. I want to be able to close my eyes and remember walking thru New York City at night and all the different scents in the air. I want to be able to smell the interior of the first car that I worked hard to afford. I want to be able to smell my wife and the sweet aroma that always surrounded her. I want to be able to smell that scent of comfort-I want it to take me back to the first time I met her, the first time I kissed her and the first time she cried on my shoulder. I want to be able to remember the stench of our first babies diaper and the smell of my first office with my name upon the door. I want to be able to kick my feet up sipping on sweet tea, like the grandfathers of the pictures, and be able to smell the scent of my tuxedo and the glorious smell of my daughters favorite flowers as I escort her down the isle at the appointed time. I want to smell the salty tears as they roll down my face. I want to re-visit the smell that I observed every Thanksgiving with such a blessing of great food and company. I want to smell all the foreign foods that I will have encountered and I want to be able to stick my nose into the Apple Pie without my mother running me off. I want to be able to smell the dirt from the walls of the Eiffel tower and the numerous piazzas in Rome. I want to smell the mangoes in Haiti and the smell of blueberries. I want to remember the smell of winter when the air crispens the leaves and the sky is on the verge of crying white powder. I want to smell the scent of spring rains and the salty ocean in the summer. I want to smell full moons and shooting stars if ever that was possible. I want to remember enough smells to where if my nose were my only sense left I would be fine for the rest of life.

Taste)

When my tongue begins to deceive me I want to remember all the different tastes that I experienced throughout life. I want to be able to taste the flavor of my mother’s chicken stroganoff. I want to be able to taste in my mind the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that my mom packed for me in pre-school. I want to taste the first steak that I spent over $50 for. I want to taste the ice cream that my siblings and I would run down the street for to get from the Ice Cream man. I want to be able to sense the flavor of all the exotic and strange concoctions that I have invented. I want to taste the gelatin in Rome and the es cargo from Paris. I want to be able to taste the fish that I will have caught in the Caribbean. I want to be able to taste salt-water taffy and the taste of the sweat that had resides on my lips after a full days work in the yard. I want to taste my rehearsal dinners’ meal-every dish. I want to remember enough flavors to where if taste was my only sense left I would be fine for the rest of life.

Touch)

When my hands grow too feeble and my fingertips no longer recognize the object I hold, I want to be able to remember all the different things that those hands have touched. I want to be able to feel my dad’s hand in mine as we walked to the local high school football game. I want to be able to feel the football in my hands as I led my team to the winning touchdown in little league. I want to remember how the baseball felt when I pitched my last pitch. I want to be able to feel the vibration of the various lawn mowers that I controlled as I worked in the sun. I want to feel my first child in my hands and I want to remember how my wife’s fingers matched mine so perfectly. I want to be able to remember how lifting various things felt and I want to feel the soreness of a hard days work. I want to be able to remember how I touched the streets that various famous men had once before tread upon. I want to be able to remember the feeling of my guitar nestled comfortably under my right arm. I want to feel the strings vibrate as I pluck them. I want to be able to feel and grasp onto things that I no longer will be able to. I want to be able to feel the first dolphin that I petted in an aquarium. I want to feel the single bar in front of me aboard the insane roller coasters and remember how I lived life to the end. I want to be able to feel the pages of the Bible between my fingertips and feel the hands of all the godly mans hands that I will have shook. I want to feel enough things to where if touch were the only sense I have left I would be fine for the rest of life.

Sight)

When my eyes become too weak to open and too fragile to focus I want to be able to remember all the different sights that those eyes have seen. I want to be able to close my eyes as I sit on my front porch and vividly revisit the first time that I saw the beautiful girl that I would call my wife. I want to be able to remember the first shooting star I saw, and the first solar eclipse. I want to be able to remember watching dramatic films and Broadway performances. I want to remember Times Square at night, Wrightsville Beach in the summer and every house I lived in. I want to be able to see my first child’s face and the tears of my wife looking down on her. I want to be able to see all Seven Wonders of the World, I want to be able to remember sights from each state as I traveled the country. I want to be able to see my parent’s faces as they watched me graduate from school and be a success in life. I want to be able to see a white Christmas and I want to remember the way my bride looked on our wedding day. I want to remember the biggest skylines and the smallest valleys. I want to be able to remember the intense tornados I witnessed and the faces of family members who have lost loved ones in war. I want to remember the sight of my mom tucking me in every night when I was little. I want to remember the tree houses my siblings and I built and I want to remember seeing unthinkable things. I want to see enough things to where if sight was the only sense I had left I would be fine for the rest of my life.

Sound)

When my ears cloud out every sound around me I want to be able to remember all the sounds those ears have heard. I want to hear my mother scream on roller coasters, I want to hear the sound of the crowds and the sound of my mothers heartbeat as I use to cuddle up to her. I want to hear the sound of wind as I soar hundreds of feet above the ground. I want to hear the sound of the waves of the ocean and the sound of a fishing line entering the still water as I take my son fishing for the first time. I want to remember hearing my child cry and I want to remember telling my wife “I do” and hearing the same words back. I want to hear vibrating deeply in my ears all the advice my father gave to me. I want it to ring the loudest. I want to remember the sound of laughter in my house and I want to remember the loud dinners our family always shared. I want to vividly hear jokes and I want to hear people tell me I made a difference in their life. I want to remember all the people who said I wasn’t the same and I want to remember hearing all the wisdom and truth that was taught to me by elders, pastors and teachers. I want to remember the sound of my first car starting and the sound of my guitar. I want to remember the sounds of life so all I would have to do is close my eyes and my life could be played over in audio. I want to hear enough sounds to where if sound was the only sense I had left I would be fine for life.

I want to be able to look back on my life in years to come and recognize all the things I failed to do but smile when I remember all the great things that I accomplished. I want to remember the people involved, their faces, their faith, and their memories. I want to remember my life and be able to admit to my mistakes but know that I made up for them and made things right. I want to remember my life like this.