Tom at Disney


[A travel journal entry from the college years of my son, Tom Dix, who returned to spirit 6 years ago today.  Today = Sept 17, 2015.  For those who knew him:  doesn’t this just sound like Tom?  Can’t you see him out there tromping in the rain, smiling and having fun? ]
Tom wrote:
   We went to DisneyWorld, and it was all very nice – fun, amusing, entertaining.  But the highlight for me was not Mickey Mouse or the Haunted House, it was when it suddenly began to pour and everyone in the park ran for cover.  I chose to get wet, and as a result had free run of the whole park!  I was soaked, but it was so great to choose to enjoy it, and I felt a little bad for all the people standing beneath the shelters, missing out on what was for me a greater thrill than Space Mountain or anything else.
     Also, however, I had a wish within that rain that I did not pursue – to find another enjoying it as much as I.  I encountered a few people out in the rain, and only spoke to one – she was the attendant at Dumbo.  I had a great time, but I wished for a partner.  I didn’t find anyone to ask to be my partner. An untaken risk I’ll never get to try again.  A definite regret.  But still, the highlight of all the vacationing here this week. 
(The underlines are Tom’s)
Here’s one more similar short entry:  10/8   Now I’m blazing a trail back campus and finding that the very thought of being here where few others come is comforting – it’s a feeling of nighttime peace during daylight hours.

Driving Through Old Neighborhood

Stomach flip flops
as I pass real places  
where real things happened.  Not
moseying along
curious about what’s meant by
“Middle Asian Restaurant”.  But
Queen of Angels Parish Hall
where my Destiny was changed
forever.
One man claimed me;
The other let me go.
I never realized
I wasn’t at the wheel.
I could turn here and pass
the basement apartment
where willingly
I gave up my
virginity.
And here the school
where my
father-by-marriage taught.
“Only you prepared me
 for the Marines,” a student said.
The previous streets were interesting
but now we’re on Death Row,
place of serious roads taken and those mysteriously
not.
I’m passing through the sea of
 Egypt.
Must not give attention to
the high waters,
must keep going to
safe ground,
to places not marked by me
like a dog leaves its scent.
Must find footing on fresh ground,
back into now,
freedom,
control.
Control?