History Lessons

I suppose we can learn a lot from history.  But the timelines…forget it!  I guess I already mentioned that I am not a numbers person.  So, I was always amazed when some history teachers stuffed their midterms with years and dates.  Truly, will any of us really remember the year of the French Indian War?  Or will we just giggle when we think of how ill named it was.  So, if you were to ask me when Teddy Roosevelt said, “Speak softly and carry a big stick”, I’d need an iphone or a Snapple lid to give you the answer.  But what I can tell you, is today, Teddy was right.  Had I had a big stick, I may have not needed to say so much.

It seems that when injuries occur, most people you encounter on your bad bio-rhythm days will have also encountered a friend of a friend who has had the exact same injury.  And though you hold your breath, hoping they will share an enlightening story of a quick recovery, they don’t.  Well…they didn’t today.  Today people were drawn to my big black boot as a license to share their most vile injury stories.  Better yet, they wanted to share their third person injury stories.  Friends, uncles, neighbors, and second cousins somehow have stumbled into stress fractures.  Let me tell you…it wasn’t pretty.

I kept reaching to my side…fumbling for that stick that Teddy warned me to keep nearby.  My eyes rolled, my breath heaved, and, being a bit emotional, my tears welled.  You would think that would be an indicator to stop their stories.  To halt where they were, change the course, and perhaps even embellish a little hope into their tale.  But they didn’t.  Everyone I bumped into, and yes, this cloddy boot provokes bumping, sent me spiraling into despair with images of numb toes and crutches.

And then, of course, a few choice words of mine slipped out.  Nothing too harsh, mind you.  But enough to let my criticizing crowd know they had overstepped into my territory.  Their words dashed my thoughts of a record-breaking recovery, and I would have to spend some time rebuilding my empire.  And you could see my well-intended enemies hadn’t meant to harm.  They were only doing what they believed their manifest destiny…to warn me of the troubles that lay ahead.  Now, here’s my damn stick?

So, tomorrow, rebuild I will do.  And as they say…though I don’t know when…Rome wasn’t built in a day.