Something on Account

Funny how we remember things from years ago and how they return as if they had a mind of their own, randomly, without any obvious connection to what we’re doing or what we may be seeing  around us. We could be minding our own business and whump – 60 years ago etc.

I just had one of those “60 years ago I remember when” come to mind while trying to start on a “weighty” essay for Havok, maybe even one that could have solved all the world’s problems. I was chewing on my pencil, struggling to get started, when I recalled getting a letter from a dear aunt who I hadn’t seen in years and years. I was in my early 20s, away at college so years and years was a good trick especially as she lived on the west coast and I grew up in New York. My aunt was a poetess, probably a beatnik or hippy before there were beatniks or hippies, living in a small whimsical house on Hollywood and Vine in LA!

For some reason or another I had written her a short note months before, I have no recollection of what I wrote, why I wrote it, or even if I did indeed write her – those were the happy days. But then I got a letter from her in the mail; it was in a small vermillion envelope. I’m guessing it had a 2 or 3 cent stamp and her address was in the other corner on the front. I opened it and read a short chatty note wishing me good luck in school. Just now it occurred to me that perhaps I didn’t write her first and it was my mother who wrote her, asking her to write me – long distance calls were very expensive back then. Hmm. In any case, I thought how nice.

I folded her letter and started to put it back in the envelope when I noticed that she had written a PS across the back of the envelope, saying she doesn’t know why she’s adding this afterthought. She wrote: “They say that God provides but maybe He can give us something on account until He gets around to providing.” I laughed and pictured her returning to the kitchen, turning the letter over on the table and adding these kind words. She looked like a whimsical Giulietta Masina, Fellini’s wife, and I was touched by her concern. And then I laughed some more – still do. I wouldn’t be surprised if I still have her letter tucked inside a book of her poems.

I know it’s tough out there in a world that’s divisive and crazy. But wanted to wish that all of you receive something on account only adding, as an old person who’s 82, often what we need has already been provided and is in front of our noses. Unfortunately we are all too often unaware of what we have. Please reach out to others near and far. Let them know you care. I know they care for you too. And remember, being kind is a HUGE deposit in our personal accounts!

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Ken was a Professor of Mathematics, a ceramicist, a welder, and an IBMer until downsized in 2000. He taught yoga until COVID-19 decided otherwise. He continues writing, living with his wife and beagle in Shorewood, Wisconsin. He enjoys chamber music and mysteries. He’s a homebrewer and runs whitewater rivers. Ken is a writer and his literary works can be found at https://www.kmkbooks.com/

He welcomes feedback on his articles and can be reached at havokjournal@havokmedia.com.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.