Barbara J. Hamby

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On the Eve of Another Year

So here we are on the Eve of another year. It will be my 77th. As a child, I wondered if I’d even be around in the year 2000, much less six years later. My father left us a month before his 77th birthday, but my mother lived to be 85.  I think I’ll try to outlive her.

Like most old people, I wonder at all the things that were unimaginable when I was young, but are commonplace today. This infernal machine that I’m typing on is certainly among them. I never had access to a television set until I was married and we bought a black and white, seven-inch screen with a magnifying “bubble” that sat in front of it. Now, we have a considerably larger screen with a built-in DVD player. I’m not ready for those giant screens, however. I may never be.

War was a historical unreality to me until I was nearly a teenager. Even though I was old enough that I remember World War II, it was far away and didn’t seem real until the end when some of the boys didn’t come back. Some of those who did told funny stories about it. The sad stories they kept to themselves. Many veterans didn’t talk about it at all for more than fifty years.

Then there was the Korean “Conflict,” the Vietnam War and numerous lesser wars. When my son was in the Marines, I worried about a “situation” in Lebanon where some of his buddies were sent. To his disappointment, he did not leave the country during his years of active duty.

So much “progress” has been made in so many areas of life. Medical miracles occur every day.

The great sadness is that peace seems to be so universally desired and so impossible to attain.