Visiting the Past

How wonderful would it be to hop around to a different point in time from our past? I always wanted to visit the 6th C. BCE, have a chance to meet the Buddha in person or....Rumi, later on.

Visiting the French Revolution to watch Danton going at it with Robespierre. 

Or to watch my parents meet for the first time and see my father enchanting Mom with his ever present, irresistible charm. He must have been a fascinating young man if the letters I found in the attic revealed the true sentiment of these women whom he enthralled.

Mom as a young girl growing up with my grandma and what she was allowed and not allowed to do, according to the strict ethics of a barely post-Victorian era. 

Going back to witness the Crusaders traveling to the Holy Land and see in person how they behaved, what they did and didn't do and who they did it to.

 Find out what the truth is by the simple fact of being there. 

Going back to Roman times and the Crucifixion would just blow my mind. Having a conversation with Seneca about it; next discussing the reasons behind his decisions with the man responsible at the time, governor Pontius Pilate. 

There are so many instances in the History of The World that I'm curious about. The only real connection to the past, the historical events, is what we've been told. 

Books, teachers, college professors and editorial opinions of people with agendas to serve.

Finding out for ourselves by traveling through time at will without the ability to interfere--of course--would be nothing short of available Quantum Physics for everyone. And what an experience that would be! 

Is it coming soon? Would science and religion allow general access to such treat? Don't bet on it.

My question is: what would it do to people in the long run? How would it change, if anything, the way we are? 

As it turns out, there's payback to be given. When you time travel, you end up losing Earth years yourself. Anything between 3 to 5 years, depending on your genetic makeup. 

There's no getting around that caveat. And it's not a small one. Losing five years is a terrible proposition. 

Such high price, who'd be willing to afford it? 

Even three years is a lot, especially if you "need" to go back and forth. Five times and you've lost 15 years. 

Fascinating as this is, I'm willing to wait until they advance the science enough so we don't lose any Earth time. None. 

In this case, maybe the saying, "It is what it is" is a much more acceptable alternative.

Food for thought, my dear friends. Let your imagination run wild.

I see my mom with her-soft-as-silk hands holding my dad's face forcing an unexpected kiss before taking off for the office. 

"See you later, handsome" --she'd tell him. Every morning. 

Then, when everything was quiet, she'd open another window to check her magnolias growing in the garden. If she saw something growing where it shouldn't be, she'd call her partner.

A housekeeper made gardener (a woman with hundreds of years of knowledge, yet unschooled) and they both rush out with all the weapons needed to fight the bush invasions.

It was a sight to behold. Mom and her partner in crime, Maria Concepcion, the maid, fighting the elements. 

When the sun hit her face, she would accommodate her favorite straw gardener hat to prevent sunburn and if you looked carefully, you'd notice her beautiful green eyes had a streak of gold in them. And in the shade, that feature became even more pronounced. It would have made a perfect portrait.

Weather was hot, so they both wiped the sweat from their foreheads with their arms. A sigh or two was heard before the work was done. 

Maria and mom had struck a deep friendship, especially when Maria almost died of a bout of pneumonia and had to stay in the hospital for weeks. 

They were both kind, compassionate people that were lucky enough to meet each-other by chance. Or fate.

Dad loved the fact that she enjoyed watching soccer. They were too funny arguing whether a foul was committed but not referi-called. Same thing with the penalties. Mom was literally a soccer fanatic. Just like Dad. Maybe that's the reason why they married?

And she was an avid reader and a quick learner. Never bored, she always managed to find fascination in the most ridiculous things. Dad wasted no time picking on her and made some pranks he thought for sure would work, only to incite her curiosity further. 

One time, he did succeed. He persuaded one of his friends to pretend he was a representative for a publishing company who made encyclopedias. All she had to do was answer ten questions correctly to win the latest edition of Encyclopedia Britannica. On the phone.

She did her part, but was tricked with one fake question about the capital of a fictitious country that of course, she never heard of. For that reason, the "agent" said she didn't win it. Sorry.

Perplexed, she asked a librarian neighbor if he ever heard of such a country and of course, he hadn't because that country doesn't exist. 

So, she brought her complaint to Dad, who was hiding behind his newspaper, pretending to read but was betrayed by a muffled chuckle which she heard. 

Oh boy. "Did you have anything to do with that?" she said, after my dad could no longer contain his laughter. 

"Oh, you! You…you're in trouble now", as she started chasing him all over the house with a frying casserole. 

They were having a good time. Those were good, healthy, wholesome days. 

I remember the good times like they happened yesterday.

I also remember she made him buy her a full collection of the Encyclopedia Britannica, express delivery, and with a "I'm sorry" note. 

That's what you get for playing pranks on the wrong person. 

Days of heaven, you could say. 

While they lasted.

Very dark days were ahead that no one could have ever envisioned or anticipated. 

Days of founded and unfounded terror. Days of absolute madness. Days where everything went wrong and nights when we were afraid to go to sleep. 

The Argentina's military juntas had seized control of the government and everybody was a suspect.

The good times were over and replaced with insecurity and paranoia.

Suddenly…everyone was a communist. 

Now, back into the here and now, I still reflect on those moments with love and tenderness.

I can't think of a better way to spend ten minutes before crashing down to reality.

And the dishes still have to be done.

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