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  • Writer's pictureAlan Allinger

Those We Have Lost to Time

Mom and I were doing an illicit beach walk.

We had been told to stay off the beach, but as I explained to the.park ranger that accosted us, rules can’t really apply to my mother.

“They apply to everyone equally,” he said. I looked as agreeable as possible.

“If your mother had a terminal illness and asked you to take her to the beach...” I began. He looked at mom, raised a hand and nodded, then went on his on his way.

“How did you know he was a philosophy major,” asked my mother.

“His class ring from UCLA,” I explained. She shook her head and said nothing but did take her spectacles from her bag and put them on. It was an old joke between us.

“How can you bear to have voluntarily limited vision?” I asked. She smiled bleakly.

“It seems to be working for about 40% of the country,” she countered. Then she looked at the sky and smiled more warmly. “Do you see that pentagon of light enveloping the sun?” she asked.

I nodded, so she continued.

“That’s the Four Sky Riders, taking up their stations in memory of those who have been lost,” she said. “And not only in war. Nearly 350,000 people have died in the past few months from Pestilence- and that’s just One of the Riders.”

“And you’re saying that if the other Three try to compete or show off...” I could see she had a lot she might say, but she chose to be brief.

“Yes,” was all she answered. “But if the Sky Riders and the Sun are taking this moment to create that display, we should take this moment in time to remember all those that came before, and be thankful that we knew the ones we did who have passed on.”

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