tadpoles and Juicy Fruit

The duality of time is an infuriatingly complex aspect of reality. When I was a little girl my aunt had a lily pond in her back yard. I remember dipping my hands into the water trying to catch the tadpoles that called it "home". This was when they were still small enough to be unrecognizable as actual frogs. The only way to catch them was to scoop up handfuls of water. The actual tadpole was too small and slippery to catch without the water as a "net". Even when I was sure I had a grip the moment I pulled my hands out of the water and opened my fingers the only thing waiting was disappointment. 
There is a sense of dread and disgust when you look down and realize that you have stepped in chewing gum. It is almost always soft and sticky from the sun. You are faced with the prospect of either trying to remove it or simply suffering through the time it takes before your foot no longer sticks to the pavement with every step. Neither one is pleasant. That small insignificant object tenaciously clinging to the sole of your shoe will be with you until you no longer notice it.
I wish that I was discerning enough to recognize the quicksilver "magic" moments right away and the wisdom to ignore the sticky nuisances. I went to the school and picked up Michael’s yearbook last week. I opened the book and the first thing I saw was a close-up of Michael’s face. They had shots of random seniors making different facial expressions. For some reason they chose one of Michael pouting. Even a black and white photo could not disguise the crystal blue of his eyes.
As I flipped through the pages I caught glimpses of his last year at school. Michael standing on the Home Coming float with other members of the Senior Class. Michael wearing his R.O.T.C. uniform during a Veteran’s Day presentation. Michael giving blood during the blood drive. Michael in class. Michael mugging with his friends. I got a lump in my throat.
In my mind I see him at the various stages of his life. I have a multi-faceted photographic record because if a camera was in sight Michael made sure he was front and center. His smile is frozen in my memories. When someone conjured the image of an impish devil with a halo that refused to stay in place they undoubtedly had Michael in mind.
His letters are comforting yet bittersweet. I miss him. We all do. Sam walked into their darkened bedroom the other day and flipped the light on. Reflexively he quickly turned the light off and said, "Sorry Michael" because Michael was always on his bed talking on the phone. Then Sam realized that Michael wasn’t there and he almost cried.
His training is going well. He aced the Combat First Aid and has qualified on the rifle range. The P.T. is going well too. The classroom time is tedious for him. According to him it is all "just common sense stuff".  I knew he would do well. I also know that he has the ability to stand out if he only allows himself to do so. He is even talking about going active duty.
I am so proud of him. The all too brief time that was his childhood has to be like those wiggly elusive tadpoles. To maintain my sanity I am going to consider this time apart as nothing more than "The Juicy Fruit Period". Just a few more weeks and I will be able to hug him again. He might very well start thinking of me as something akin to chewing gum because I don’t know that I will be able to let go again.