Where Did It Go?

By Bill Shiver

Seems like yesterday when a little boy rode his trusty bike to the Ilex Theatre on Saturday afternoons to see Roy and Gene.  He wandered the toy aisle of Van H. Priest five & dine.  He caught lightning bugs and put them in a jar to provide a serence nightlight.

Then the boy was driving a car and having dates and going to the Ilex Theatre to see “Where the Boys Are.”  And he met his future bride.

Then came marriage and before lone he stood at the nursery window in a hospital and marveled at his new baby girl.  So beautiful with his green eyes and her Mom’s smile as she slept softly and talked to the Angels.

Later he helped his daughter catch lightning bugs and put them in a jar.  She went to sleep to the soft twinkle of the flickering glow.

He taught her to ride a bike.  She wouldn’t be able to ride her bike to town on Saturday afternoons because times had changed.

His little girl began dating, and soon there was another marriage.  And in time he found himself standing before another hospital nursery window marveling at his first granddaughter.  So beautiful with blue eyes and curly hair.  And soon he was back at that same window, once again marveling at yet another glorious granddaughter with blue eyes and dark straight hair.

The lightning bugs had left.  No longer could he help his girls catch them and put them in a jar.  Time has changed, you see.

And now the man has hair of silver.  His eyes are dimmer.  He lives in the mountains where once again the lightning bugs glitter and light up the night.  His girls are goring up.  One thinking about college and the other pondering highg school.

Where did it all go?  The pages on the calendar fell away like the falling liaves from the maple trees beside the little house on the mountain.  He and his bride have each other.  And memories.  Many memories some bitter and some sweet.  The bird of time is relentless.  Always on the wing.  The clock ticks and chimes.

How can such a long life seem so short?  It seems like yesterday when the little boy played marbles in the dusty street in front of his house.  When he rode stick horses and his BB gun was always by his side.  When Santa was real and he believed with all his heart that fairies danced on the lawn.  When his eyes were clear and his bones were stout and all the pages of life were yet to be turned.

He wonders…where did it go?

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