Jason - Vacation

On the writing

This week Justin picked the form of pantoum.  If you don't know what that is, I didn't either until he warned me he was going to do it a few weeks ago.  It is a poem form which doesn't have to rhyme, which I like, and it reuses every verse, but does it in a way the meaning, sometimes with punctuation, can change with context.  So, it causes you to think about every line in two ways.  It really tickles a part of my brain.  This week I picked the topic of vacation, since I am going on one very soon.  I tried, in this poem to express both the literal vacation, plus something a little bit deeper that get triggered with vacation moments.  I hope you like it.

Vanilla Sun

Beams of vanilla sun hold promise,
Illuminated moments of magnified bliss.
Loved ones rediscover each other far from home.
Punctuating the air with popcorn squeals of exhilaration.

Illuminated moments of magnified bliss,
The sudden reveal of the perfect castle,
Punctuating the air with popcorn squeals of exhilaration.
Hope is a cinnamon and sugar seduction.

The sudden reveal of the perfect castle.
Flashes of a paradise where
Hope is a cinnamon and sugar seduction,
Like the smell of my wife’s perfume.

Flashes of a paradise where
Loved ones rediscover each other far from home.
Like the smell of my wife’s perfume,
Beams of vanilla sun hold promise.

Justin - Bizarre Dream

About the writing

The topic this week was a bizarre dream and I had selected the dream before I heard the form. Shortly after Shelly’s funeral, I dreamt that she was deep cover and had faked her own death in order to protect her family and finish her assignment. She looked as she always had, dressed as she did with the exception of a small machine gun that was hanging from a strap on her shoulder and a black knit cap.

Needless to say, I was both amused and saddened by this. I have held on to the dream quietly but knew it had to be written about at some point. It has lost humor for me over the months, but still that my sister-in-law might be a deep cover agent and that I might stumble unwittingly into the end of her secret operation is ludicrous. The type of ludicrous that I think only a sleeping mind could concoct.

As for concoctions, Jason may talk more about the form (I honestly don’t know if he has or hasn’t,) but it should be noted that he came up with the form; a poetic form of his own devising (I call it the Jasonian Form, he may have a better name for it.) Thirteen lines per stanza with a very specific rhyme structure noted as ABCB ADCD AECE A and the requirement of an odd number of stanzas. For me, I made the last line a variation or a copy of the first in each stanza and made the last stanza a variation of the first.

Punctuation: I abhor punctuating poems. Regardless, this one has some conversation that necessitates punctuation and so it’s there. I thought about just doing the quote marks, but that looks silly so I did the whole thing.

The Rescue

I shake my head to try to break the spell;

From whence do such strange dreams originate?

The present stab of sad reality,

With comedy the mourning to abate.

Does the subconscious seek its guilt to quell?

Or message give the conscious mind to hear,

To show of one what one tries not to see,

In shadows brightly make the message clear?

I check to see how near the ringing bell;

The mark that says I must be on my way.

And yet the strange dream will not let me be,

So early I rise up to start the day.

Shaking my head to try to break the spell.

 

I find myself inside a warehouse dark;

A meeting I have come so late to make.

But I can tell that all is not alright,

A fear that self-assurance cannot break.

In still quiet deeper I embark

To find the office I am meant to go.

I see ahead the hint of flickering light

That does not come from harsh fluorescent glow.

And now I think that I may be the mark

As sight and smell of fire my senses fill.

Why would I come to meet this late at night?

What promised price could risk so high a bill?

To find myself inside the burning dark.

 

As I turn to flee this dreadful scene

A hand grabs hold my arm “It’s time to go.”

“But how, how are you here?” “No time for that.

Hurry up this place is going to blow.”

My rescuer in flowered shirt and jean,

White canvas shoes all strangely juxtaposed

With a short machine gun and black knit hat;

Her smiling self with mystery opposed.

“I had to fake my death, it was the mean

To this assignment’s end and to protect

The family, though doing so left them flat

But soon I will return and all correct.”

And still I cannot flee this strange new scene.

 

“But they are broken, sad and soon angry…”

“No it will be fine and they will understand.”

“How could they understand that you’re a spy?”

 “Deep cover; and the job makes the demand”

And there I come back to reality

And try to find some sense where none appears;

The pictures painted for the sleeping eye;

To laugh together again after some years.

Perhaps that was my mind’s small gift to me,

To laugh and know that she would laugh as well.

Perhaps it was a way to say goodbye.

Perhaps I know but am afraid to tell.

Broken and sad for too long will we be.

 

I shake my head to try to break the spell;

From whence do such strange dreams originate?

The present stab of sad reality,

With comedy the mourning to abate.

Does the subconscious seek its guilt to quell?

Or message give the conscious mind to hear,

To show of one what one tries not to see,

In shadows brightly make the message clear?

We cannot know the nearness of the bell,

That mark that says we must be on our way.

We cannot wait for how things ought to be;

We must work to make them so today.

Shaking my head I try to hold the spell.

Jason - Dream

On the writing:

If I am to have any success this week it is coming up with a new poem format.  Using the format I actually found pretty difficult and the resulting poem is, in my opinion, not particularly good.  That being said, the subject matter is odd, it is a variation on a few dreams I have had woven together.  In spite of the title, I don't think there is really much meaning, just a little dream oddness.

If you want to write a poem in this style it is three stanza, each with 13 lines and the rhyme pattern is abcb,adcd,aece,a.  If you send one to me, and you would like, I'll post it on the blog.

Interpretation

I contemplate my breathing in and out,
A whisper wind, spirits of exhaled thought.
The captured memories into the air.
Reclining brain Is sifting lost from caught.
Serene and still is shattered in a shout,
And so, resigned, I force myself to rise.
The moonlit room so dim becomes my snare.
When down I look I scarce believe my eyes.
I twice am there, one still and one enroute,
Body I leave, about the house I roam,
Into the hall I spy my old armchair,
Upon the seat there sets a bearded gnome.
His laugh, it does produce inside me doubt.


So I then stride near to the chestnut door,
And reach a shadow hand up to the knob.
Elusive grasps slip silent through the wood
No flesh connects. My touch the moment rob.
My mind wanting a test to then implore,
Then deeply thinks about my loss of mass.
If I am right and all Is understood,
Then in to out this ghost will surely pass.
So down I crouch to spring up off the floor,
With force I press with all my might of will.
The bonds of gravity are gone for good.
Into the night I fly, then become still.
Above with eyes held tight I hear a snore.


I feel again the weight up on my skin,
The draw to earth declares itself anew.
When I at last can see the scene unfold,
I see it is into my sixth grade class I flew.
I stand before the group and force a grIn,
My lecture is on Tolkien's use of Gnomes.
I know this dream on literature is old
So, I shift the topic to Sherlock Holmes.
It is then I realize my clothes are thin,
Look down and see I am without my pants,
So many eyes. Hardly notice the cold.
My voice, it sticks, I wish I had some plants.
I contemplate my breathing out and in.

Justin - Time Travel

About the writing.

I came up with the idea for this pretty early after we came up with the assignment. I don’t really have much to say without spoilers which is always a danger with time travel. This is another one of those weeks where I think with more time this could stretch into something much larger than whatever can be produced in a week. Enjoy.

Transcript of traveler and computer diagnostic logs from TDTD Mk II test # 10.

Computer diagnostic Date: unknown; Latitude: unknown; Longitude: unknown; External Temperature: 11 degC

Travelers log date as of yet undetermined so I will presume for now the jump was on target and it is late spring early twelfth century somewhere in the English countryside. This is Colonel Gordon Briggs of the Aeronautics Space and Time Administration first report from Tedted mark two test number ten first attempt at a millennial jump for this ship. I must say that whatever you boys in engineering did on this new engine was outstanding. Every jump I made in the mark one, even the early one day jumps, I’d spend the first hour feeling like hell, but I feel great. Anyway let’s look at these readouts. Looks like the sensors are having trouble finding when and where we are, not unusual for a big jump. Temp looks good outside, let’s see if we can finish that picture with the surveillance cams…there we go, looks like we got some sun. Also looks like three out of four cameras are in deep foliage but I have one clear picture, nice wooded area. Well I expect the computer will be able to do some calculations and figure out where we are tomorrow, if not, I have started the standard forty-eight hour protocol timer and will be prepared to start recon as soon as permitted.

 Computer diagnostic Date: unknown; Latitude: unknown; Longitude: unknown; External Temperature: 12 degC

Travelers log…we’ll say day two, not sure what the problem is with the computer, not a huge deal, just stuck in the ship for another…twenty-three hours and forty-three minutes or until the coordinates get figured out. I couldn’t see much going on out of the one camera but was able to get some interesting stuff off of some probes and sensors. First, the atmosphere seems fairly normal but there is an elevated amount of oxygen; twenty-five percent to be exact. I’m sure that won’t give me any negative effects when I get to go out but to be safe, once released from the forty-eight hour quarantine protocol, I intend to stay near Teddy hear for the first hour or so. I imagine I’ll feel a little high. Also a soil sample collected from one of Teddy’s probes was tested and there is a substance that was not readily identified. Together these two findings are a bit alarming, but I imagine it could just be a glitch in the analyzing software. Teddy’s still a fairly new ship after all.

Computer diagnostic Date: unknown; Latitude: unknown; Longitude: unknown; External Temperature: 10 degC

Travelers log day three. Ok well I put on the monk robe and spent a good hour outside. Nothing weird; I guess I might have a heightened energy level or maybe I’m just excited to step out for a little bit. No contact with locals was made but I did notice what looks like some chimney smoke from several fires off to the…north I’ll say based on the sun direction. I have my recording equipment in my robe so I should be able to get something to help Teddy here figure out where and when we are.

Traveler’s log day three continued, I’m starting to get a bit worried. I found a village and was able to get some audio and visual data. Nothing is right. The locals are not speaking any dialect that I am familiar with and I’ve been to this time before with Teddy one. I’m a linguist, it’s part of why I get the long range missions. Also, the style of dress is less like the twelfth century and more like…I don’t know, like a movie version of the twelfth century. I’m loading the data onto Teddy’s main to see if he can make any more since of it, but I didn’t understand a word after spending the last six months brushing up on my Middle ages European language. I’m hoping Teddy can at least pick up some patterns, I wrote that program so I might tweak it if he doesn’t come up with anything.

Computer diagnostic Date: unknown; Latitude: unknown; Longitude: unknown; External Temperature: 9 degC

Traveler’s log day four. I think we’ve been able to figure out some basics of the language, still not sure what language it is and Teddy still hasn’t been able to figure it out. I’m going to make another run to the village and try to get some more audio and video and see if we can’t crack this.

Ok. I’m ok. OK. I didn’t make it to the village. There’s a dragon out there. I got about twenty feet away from Teddy and I saw a dragon out there. I’m trying to see if I got a picture. It wasn’t big. Maybe the size of a large horse; like a Clydesdale. So not, like, a, um big dragon. What am I saying? What size is a dragon supposed to be? THERE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DRAGONS! Teddy is informing me that my heartrate and blood pressure are elevated and protocol requires that I rest and take a sedative.

 Traveler’s log day four continued. I’m doing better now. The only thing I can figure is that instead of just going back we went sideways or diagonal. I think I skipped timelines which is kind of exciting, I guess, but I’m also freaked out. I can’t think of another explanation. I think when we skipped the incremental tests and skipped from one hundred years to one thousand we made a mistake. I think we may have missed some stuff that we may have caught if we were less excited. Anyway, I’ve went through the pictures and I caught the dragon so I’m going to hit the home button and abort this mission.

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

What is error 63? Checking, and, foreign organism detected. What? Ok apparently something got into the ship that Teddy doesn’t recognize and we can’t bring it home. I’m running the scan so Teddy can pin point whatever it is for me.

Computer Diagnostic: One life form detected in cockpit; foreign organism detected in cockpit

So apparently Teddy thinks I’m a foreign organism. That’s bad. I’m going to run through the decontamination chamber and see what if that helps. I’ve hit the home button so Teddy should run pre-jump checks every five minutes and jump when possible. This means I’m here in the ship until we get this fixed.

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Ok, decontamination didn’t help. I’m going to try to figure something out.

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Ok. I have to take a risk. I’m going to go outside and prop the door open. I’m going to start collecting any plants, spiders, anything I can get and see if I can’t shock the sensors into reset. I did something like this on Ted one. I’ll wait until the next read so I have a solid five minutes then I’m going for it.

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: Error 63, Jump Aborted

Computer Pre-Jump Diagnostic: No life forms detected, main hatch open. Computer override closing main hatch. Jump initiated.

Jason - Time Travel

On the writing

This is actually a short story version of a longer novel I have imagined writing.  It still needs some work, but this week has been pretty hectic.  Please excuse all the spots that need to be edited an reworked a little bit.  I have given it a read through, but I fear there are still rough spots.  I think the story and the concept will make it through, though.  I hope you like it.

The Choice

01 January 2016

Today, I was awakened from my nap, which I seem to be taking more and more frequently, with an idea. Really, it was somewhat more that. Well, let’s not oversell it,it could be more than that. As a man of science I should report, it is an untested idea, a mere thought, nothing more. But a thought that has given fuel to a depressed mind. I don’t dare admit or deny it, but it may be the first raft of hope which can lift me above the grey waves that drag me down. Perhaps I can have her back.

This isn’t what this log is supposed to be about, but I think I need to explain where I am coming from. In the early part of November, I left my wife, who was feeling just a little under the weather, to go to a meeting. The meeting was not that important, something for our daughters at their school. I had no idea it would be the last time I ever felt normal, ever really wanted to face tomorrow. I never made it into the building. The girls called me home, they said the paramedics were already there, there was something wrong with momma. When the young man told me there was nothing they could do, I tried to be analytical, rational. I needed to hold it together. I did, right up until our youngest asked, “Is everything okay?” Our yard was full of people waiting for my answer. I gave them tears.

You might think that three months would dull the pain, but the truth is there has been a hopelessness which has wrapped itself around me and won’t let go. It keeps me up at night, smashes my focus and my desire to do, well, anything. I have had no answer to the question, “What is the point?” So, I play the good father for my daughters and I try to not push my friends away. I do what I should because I want for nothing.

That was true until right up until thirty minutes ago. In my dream I was thinking about the time dilation that the International Space Station experiences. I was thinking how because of the velocity and gravitational forces items on it age at a slower rate. I remembered thinking how they must have a system just to adjust the clocks, because they would get out of sync with those on earth.

The image in my brain kind of wobbled a little bit as I could see that velocity and gravity doing their time bending work on the space man. What was it? What was it that caused them to ever so slightly skip like a stone over segments of time? Why would they not be anchored to all the points in we are? It was the energy, it gave them a kind of temporal velocity. If you added that energy they would touch less and less points, effectively slowing down. With the right controls you could “skip” anywhere. Objects and people could slide forward and backwards across time.

I could get a few more moments. I could undo this wrong which had been done to me. I could finally answer when asked, “Is everything okay?”

23 May 2016

Blissfully in the last five months I have let my work consume me. Long hours of research and experiments. Making full use of the university lab and even developing a bit of a workshop in the basement of our home. I don’t just mean ours, mine and the girls, I mean the whole family. Sure, I have had fits of loneliness when my hand wanders to her cold side of the bed, but then I remember it is just a matter of time. I fantasize about what that moment will look like. How I would turn back the clock and fix what had been broken for all of us.

I have not told the girls. I don’t want to get their hopes up. In science more things don’t work than do, but it is this kind of truth I refuse to look full in the face myself. I work as hard as I do because I believe. I have to believe. Whenever I let the shadow of doubt cover my face, I hurt, for me and for the girls. I imagine how our lives can go on and . . . . I can’t.

The guy from the funeral parlor called today to let me know the headstone would be installed next week. I look forward to being able to explain my progress to more than a spot of thin grass. I miss her so much. I just want to tell her about every little success. I want her to tell me what to call this temporal matter or “gravatrons” or “velocules”. I want to explain to her how these are the keys to bring us back together. I want to hear her response. I have hinted to the kids, but I don’t dare draw the connection for them. So, this has become just another odd thing their Dad is working on. What ever they will be called, these things will become the bridge our love will be reunited on.

I have found them in everything. They are separate from, but in nature seem to correlate to, the mass of an object. They are the reason gravity works the way it does. They seem to pile up on objects going at high rates of speed and leap free again when that object slows down. In many cases when a body is experiencing resistance a portion of that resistance is this temporal matter. I just need to find way to manipulate them. To control the skipping.

The idea goes like this, if I want to move forward in time, skip forward I pile these things on, if I double the amount the object should fly forward in time twice as fast as normal. I remove them, make it so an object has less, time will fly around the object as it stick to each moment more strongly. There is a threshold, though, like matter changing states, that causes a slip, can cause that object to either move forward or back in time without touching the moments in between. The math works out, but I will have to be very precise to do this right.

I just saw the date. Today is her birthday. I want to say I believe that this is all going to work out, most of the time I hold on to that idea, but just the realization of the date makes me sad. I think about how we loved celebrating with Shelly, who loved her birthday and buttercream frosting. I think of the graduations and weddings and every little event she is missing. I think the girls and I should do something, but I can’t imagine a better use of my time. Do I believe or not?

I think I will call them Shellitrons.

29 July 2016

Today was a banner day. I recorded my first successful results with the Shellitron harnessing device. I didn’t push my luck, but the future looks bright.

Given the technical details in both the setup and measurement of the device I did this experiment in the university lab. I must say the lab assistant I worked with, Gary, did an excellent job and he seemed to grasp what was going on even before any of the results came in. When he asked why I had called them Shellitron’s I couldn’t finish the story. He didn’t make me. He explained his mother had died when he was a child and let the silence fill in the rest of the story.

We set up two identical, highly precise, Ultrak 460 stop watches. They stood on clear plastic bases which elevated them six inches above the black slate workbench. This placed them both beneath the tips on the actuating arm. These would start the watches at exactly the same time. Additionally, the materials of the bench and the bases would be heat and charge resistant, making them ideal is isolating the effect of the device on the second watch.

Do you ever get phantom smells? You know, you smell something which can not possibly be there. It comes from nowhere, it makes some memory flash, some thought, then it retreats back to the ether. Just as I pushed the start button, causing the arm to dip and the watches to start racing forward, I caught a whiff of my wife’s perfume. It was just Gary and I, and it wasn’t strong, so I said nothing. I imagined her lying on our bed, comfortable, smiling and I drew a deep breath, trying to get just a little more, trying to hold onto the image. It was gone.

The watches hit 100 seconds and I turned the knob on the device. The invisible stream of Shellitrons hit the second watch and for a moment nothing happened. Then, although I could not see it, it started to lose it’s grip on time, well, my time. When the control watch hit 104 second the test watch was at 103.8. As I turned the dial I could spread the distance between the times. It seemed to have no ill effect. Gary stood amazed, then started taking vigorous notes, I was certain he had already imagined the paper, the journals this would be published in.

Although I knew the answer, I asked him if we should move to part two of the experiment, reversing the flow. It too was successful. We could, at least in some small way, change the way an object interacted with time. We repeated this experiment three times and every time we got the same result.

I thought I was almost ready to tell my daughters, to let them in on my secret. I wanted to tell someone. I didn’t care about the fame or prestige this would certainly gain me, I wanted my Shelly. I wanted more than a memory inducing scent. I wanted to tell my children they would have their mother back. I wanted to be at that part of the movie where the main character wakes up and just holds onto his loved one, because while he has lived another lifetime, to them is was just the blink of an eye.

Through blurry vision, I could see it.

12 August 2016

I suppose I have said the name Schrödinger enough to explain to Gary how I am feeling. I am both profoundly happy with the progress of the experiment and profoundly sad at the same time. Shelly is both alive, in my hopes and in my work, but also so very far from me, lost in the sea of time. I feel like I am getting closer to her, but I can not share with her the progress. The cat is inside the box, but because it is not opened it is considered both alive and dead. Every success, every moment I would share, every good thing comes with the hooks of loss.

Anyway, I arrived this morning to the university and on my desk sat a book. It looked like it came from a small press, perhaps even self published. Anyway, it makes specific reference to Erwin Schrödinger’s 1952 work on the concept of a multiverse and seems to be linked to Oxford press. It is something about avoiding paradoxes, which we have talked about, but I think they, in an unseen way, they avoid themselves. For now, though, I must set the book aside.

The watches still sit on their bases. We have repeated and adjusted the experiment on time dilation nearly 300 times, but today we have enhanced the device. We have figured out the standard density of Shillitrons on an object to have a “normal” weight on time, a T1, and then written formulas correlating that density to T number. So, T1/2 would age at half the speed, while a T2 would age twice as fast.

All of these things have been put into the new device, which can now analyze an object and determine the number of Shellitrons needed for a specific rate and determine the number it has at present. This allows us to preset a rate and with a single press of a button have the dilation take place immediately. It is perfect, except for one, I guess predictable thing. The issue we have been having is that at T4.6692 there seems to be a barrier. I believe this the temporal zero line, meaning any T number greater than that actually causes an object to begin to be propelled backwards.

Since my wife has been gone I can not stop feeling like she got off on a stop and I have been left on the train. I am rocketing forward, pushed away from her. At a T4.7 I could actually be riding that train backwards, approaching her rather than leaving her. At some T number, I don’t know which I could be beside her, holding her, protecting her from that day in November. I can look to my children, who then will not know the pain I have seen then experience now and I can shield them from it. I can be a better husband and father.

What I don’t know is what happens if I run into myself, my past self. The movies and stories seem to predict some sort of cataclysm. Perhaps you kick off a series of paradoxes which destroy your own existence. This seems, to me, fictional. I have never seen, nor would I ever write in a paper any speculation of a paradox. Science doesn’t work that way. Unless… I will have to consider this some other time.

I need to calculate the length of time it takes Shellitrons to resume a normal density. This will be used to derive the T number needed to go back a certain number of hours.

19 September 2016

Earlier today Gary and I pushed the T number on the second watch across the barrier. It was amazing and then a little perplexing. We set the device to T4.8, a number which should cause about 1 hour of instant time regression. We pressed the button at the watch disappeared. Not invisible, but gone. For a moment we sat waiting for to reappear, but that was not the expected result, it actually should have just blinked and appeared like it had been running for an hour. But, that is not what happened.

We discussed if perhaps it have held in space, meaning the earth's rotation had caused the watch to go back in time, but appear about 1000 miles around the globe. Gary then suggested it was impacted by the rotation, it might also be possible it is impacted by the orbit. Perhaps our watch appeared an hour ago in the middle of space. The problem is, because of the link between Shellitrons and gravity, we have expected to held to our approximate location what time was being adjusted. With an empty stand, we didn’t know what had happened.

We decided we would break for the day, think about an experiment we could run to determine what had happened in our respective homes. I wanted to be around the kids.

They, as happens so often, were not home. So instead I read that Schrödinger book.

The main thrust of the book was an extension of his theory on the multiverse. The multiverse idea says beside the universe we reside there are thousands or millions or an infinite number of other universes. They each exist as the result of a different choice or even taking place in those universe. So, on one fish developed into the dominate species and on another everyone has a holiday where they celebrate Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. The causality doesn’t matter, what matters is all of these streams flow forward in time for the most part not aware or impacted by the others.

He then talks about time travel and how traditional travel through time has some significant problems if you decide to go backwards in time. The simplest of which is how you can have moment in time when time traveller you both existed and did not exist. This, he speculates, can not happen. He speculates on a kind of temporal physics which would prevent it from happening. This, though, he says does not altogether eliminate time travel. Instead it would allow the time traveller to move back into a parallel universe in which the time traveller always appeared, never did not appear. Meaning, in some way, the act of time travel birthed this new dimension into existence.

Now, this is all theory, but it would explain what happened to the watch. We sent it back in time, just not to our time, to the time in which a watch mysteriously appeared.

I can not write more right now. The implications, professional and personal, need to be digested.

2 November 2016

It has been one year since I lost the love of my life. In the movies, in the common philosophy, in the lyrics of songs they tell you that time heals all wounds. That is a lie. The wound may change, it may go from fresh and bleeding to something else, something more dull and more permanent. It is a scar that aches.

I have fought everyday to hold onto the hope of getting her back and that fight has dulled the ache, but today I embrace the truth. I could let the Shellitrons take me back to one year ago, perhaps a year and a day, and I could save her. But, it would not be her. She would not be my Shelly, she would be the Shelly some time traveler saved in another dimension, but it would be at the expense of everything.

I could press that button and do what had never been done. I could travel back in time and save a life, but I could never get back. I would save one life, but I would lose my own. My children would go from suffering the loss of their mother, to orphans. I could pretend I don’t matter that much, rationalize, but that is a cop out.

I was disassembling all of the equipment which I had brought into the workshop, I had created in the basement of our home, when my youngest came downstairs to see what I was doing. She just watched my for a long time, trying to puzzle out why I was breaking it all apart and packing it all into boxes, but she didn’t say anything. It is possible my tears confused her. Held her still for a moment.

Then, with padded footsteps, she got right beside me, while I was distracted. “Is everything, okay?” she asked, in much the same way she did that night and again it just broke me. New tears mixed with old.

No. Yes. I don’t know. My brain tried to puzzle through the answer.

“I love you girls so much, but I can’t fix it. I thought I could, but I can’t. I choose you. I choose now.”

She hugged me as tight as her little body would allow. She did not fully understand, but it did not matter. Everything is not okay, but I hope it will be.