The Possessed 2003
WRITE : nonfiction
2004 & After
We drove all the way from Virginia to Fairbanks, AK. Two old cars, two small children, two weeks. Two of us, husband and wife. Two of us, God and I.
It was August and we had everything... Most important, we had hopes. Or even those grand expectations. Dreams of what? Of tomorrow, of the unkown, which smiles at you and whispers promices. Nothing could break this expectation of happiness, breaking cars, Alaska Highway -- nothing! Because the presuide of happiness is happiness. Waiting for your bright future is your fly in the present.
No, it wasn't just tomorrow; it was the day-after-tomorrow, and the day after it... Something without end, the eternity of the happy days.
"Now, now, I will get it right! Finally! At last!" I thought.
Even the big history favored me -- the letters I could send to Moscow, the changing face of the Soviet Russia, the news... I* could have it all!
"Now everything I do, will go right!" It was the feeling in me. "Nothing could go wrong, I know." I was becoming an American, going beyond being an US citizen.The fog stayed about the water, the quiet lake with mirror-like sylver water, as if the small cloud came down from the dawn skies to rest. The mountains were hidding this miracle from the rest of the world, guarding the intimate moment of Heaven and Earth from noise and rush. And somehow letting me to witness this love hour of the new day...The biggest hope I had that maybe I could like myself, maybe I could the peace with myself, peace I never had.
I was afraid that our two cars could be noticed, I feared that if I stop, I would break it...
We droved through the beauty of life in silence.
... I drove 14-16 hours a day and I wan't tired. At night I saw big sky full of stars, I forgot about them -- and now they were back, returning from my childhood. There is a feeling "thank you" we have -- and this how we know that we are happy.
St. Paul, Canadian border, Alberta, British Columbia... The world was big and it was my world, because I didn't feel small.
.... Maybe I was daydreaming? I feel as if I was remembering my own future. As a child, living only in his imagination of the life ahead him. Maybe this is the secret of the sweet memories of the childhood -- yes, this ability to in the future, while in present. That was that America I craved for. Did I finally arrive?
I was fourty.
I had another life, a gift. Thank you.
And the stories, and the writing...
For ten years we were moving, our fist ten years together. And the motion kept us together.Next: Father-Rusia (1992-1994)