Legacy

Einstein once wrote to a friend, “People like you and I, though mortal of course like everyone else, do not grow old no matter how long we live. What I mean is we never cease to stand like curious children before the great Mystery into which we were born.”

While parts of me, many parts if I am to be frank, have fallen into disrepair, and yes I remind myself not to forget but can’t remember what, I sincerely believe that I too was gifted the look of awe and wonder that the wee ones get when life presents a mystery they are hip deep in pursuit of, while chasing the keys that unlock them.

To be clear, since a misunderstanding would have me juxtaposed to a man whose very silhouette equates to genius, it is the curiosity we share, not the ability to grasp beyond most mortals’ reach to pluck the answer.

Where did this curiosity, the trait that has served me well in the time I’ve been allotted, come from? It was a legacy, one acquired stumbling over rocks and jumping over puddles, following a tall man up rutted trails to watch eagles glide in circles below us, while tasting the sharp bite of a cold apple cut with a Swiss Army knife he always kept in his pocket.

So today I stand, in an elder’s disguise, in solidarity with a man my father admired, and see the world around me through a child’s eyes.