Sometimes when students asked how old I was
(after I gave them a silent raised eyebrow to remind them that not everyone loves this question since guesses about age usually skew to elderly, and no one wants to be associated with that too soon)
I presented historical math problems by way of answer:
I was born the year before Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.
I was born a few months after Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were assassinated.
I was almost a year old when Woodstock happened. (No, I did not go)
Some searched their brains for these facts, eyes squeezed shut for maximum thinking power.
Many grabbed their smartphones to plug in keywords and triumphantly shout the year
then consult their calculators for the final answer.
Others blinked slowly or looked away, uninterested in history & math,
knowing my age was not worth effort since
obviously I was born a long time ago, probably before their parents who were old and boring.
Whenever I went through this exercise I was reminded
of how many things that the whole world knows
sees
feels
will happen at the same exact time
as tiny personal miracles and/or tragedies.
Other people were born when men were walking the moon -
those mothers' labors overshadowed by the constant coverage
of guys kicking around space dust.
Other people died on days great men were murdered -
those families doubly gutted, having to divide their grief
and weigh the value of different lives.
Thousands left Woodstock early, cold & muddy, hungry & tired,
bleary-eyed back at desk jobs or slumped in classrooms,
while Hendrix solemnly unwound the anthem onstage.
Perspective.
****
I remember being home from school on March 30, 1981, foggily watching TV on the couch when breaking news announced President Reagan had been shot.
I sat up, feeling hollow, the hair on my arms shivering,
thought of my mom recalling when the president of her adolescence was shot.
But then, I remember my increasing aggravation
that the coverage was going to interrupt General Hospital,
a bright spot on sick days.
7th grade Me dismissing the possible death of a world leader
in favor of catching my favorite soap opera.
****
For a few days at the end of September 1998, the entire planet disappeared from my periphery.
My son had been born
early
quickening labor
fetal distress
please sign this release with your right hand because we put the pen on your wrong side
emergency Cesarean
too small
jaundiced
transferring
miles away.
On that day there were discoveries and catastrophes, victories and defeats elsewhere
significant to hundredsthousandsmillions
but I
only knew
one thing one thing one thing
Perspective.
****
It is a strange thing
astonishing comfort
deliciously peculiar
to understand
the world is so vast and full
yet still fits
right in your hands.
