In my next life I want to come back as a Great Blue Heron.
I will majestically stand by a lake, capturing fish, capturing the eye of all who wander by, pausing in awe and desire.
And I will have the one thing I know I now lack, that trait that has escaped me for far too many years, patience, the ability to stand and stare until the moment is right, then to act. I am not in a hurry for this reincarnation, so perhaps I have more patience than I realize.
If there were truly justice at least of the poetic sort perhaps Van Gogh could have been born 75 years earlier, and in Vienna not Holland, so that when he decided to be rid of an ear he could have offered it to Beethoven neither of his working in his later years. And if a poet could arrange time travel using his license then he could just as easily have made the ear work for Beethoven. But on second thought, heaven knows what the mighty Ninth Symphony might have sounded like if Beethoven had to listen constantly to the critics.
My parents, well my father, always felt is was necessary to stop on the way to our summer home in the Western Adirondacks to visit Uncle Morris, who may or may not have been an uncle in the blood sense, it was never clear. It was he who sold my father the cottage near the small lake, he who now lived in a nursing home in Schenectady.
Morris was sweet, frail, but still wanted my father to play a couple of hands of pinochle, which drove my mother crazy, but she loved the cottage, and Morris sold it to them for a song to keep it in the family.
I liked watching them play, never understood the game, and hated the name Schenectady, but we’d always go for an early dinner at the Chinese Buffet across from the store Morris owned for years.
All too soon, I will return as a ghost and how you and others deal with that has yet to be seen, although know that ghosts are reflective, and your thoughts will determine both my presence and mood during such visits as I choose to make to you.
You may not believe in ghosts, I did not for years, but as you approach that state of post-being you realize that ghosts arrive in dreams and you are helpless to control them, so lie back, enjoy me when I visit, for I have an eternity of options too soon at my disposal.