Stumbling Stones

Street led to the Vatican
We are ages 69 and 67, youngsters
by all accounts.

Throughout the decades of our life together, we had always said Let's go to Rome someday. Our answers were When the kids are older.

Then as time went by and our progeny left home, we said again, Let's go to Rome someday. Our answers were We have to save up for retirement. AND we can't get off from work.

Then after these excuses we eliminated, Let's go to Rome now. Does May sound good to you? Retirement and strong investments and inheritance from our mothers allowed us to do that.

We took the leap, found ourselves on a bus tour with 40 other retirees, having an awesome time. 

Leading to Sistine Chapel

On two days we were on our own explorations.  Everywhere we turned along old winding streets, we were amazed to see local churches. Small churches were tucked in at corners and looked unimpressive.


But each one was filled will their own grandeur, well-used by parishioners. The kneeling rails showed decades of prayers. We were utterly humbled.

A small church tucked in a tiny street. I slipped
down a step, but only my
pride hurt.

How-ever, this post is not about all the crazy 

amazing historical splendid sites that could merit days and days of exploration all by themselves. This post is about the little things.

This is from the Jewish Ghetto.

Now, instead of looking up at the gilded and amazing ceiling paintings, I found myself gazing down.  Looking down at the cobblestones, I discovered shiny gold bronze plaques embedded within a sea of gray. Looking closer, bending over, I gasped as I read the engraved names and dates.

The left one reads (with difficulty, given its wear and probably misspelled): 

Qui Abitava

Dora Fiatelli

Nata 1887

Arrestata 15.3.1943

Auschwitz

Morta 1.7.1944

Can you read them? Enlarge and see these "stumbling stones" as they are called.

These stumbling stones can be found throughout Europe, in probably every country.

Life is about the big and the little bits throughout history.  It is easy to see the big grandeur amazing epic bits.

But for me, thecontemplativecat, turning a stone over and finding the magnificent there, this is the way I am.  Looking down, as well as up, grants a picture of time and people.

Our someday has become someday we will return and learn more.

Think I'm old? Just watch me.

St. Charles, Missouri

Living in a 55+ community where many of the residents were alive in the WW2 and Korean War time period, I have observed some amazing people. Some are old and frail, but they are amazing.

Many can be seen at the clubhouse playing cards (gambling!), in the exercise room, and in the pool.  Don't count these or any seniors out.

That being said, here can give you an idea what an old person can do.

I don't know about you, but I sure couldn't do those dance moves, wouldn't even attempt them. I could give that cashier a chewing out like nobody's business. Young whippersnapper.

The Adventures of Lord James St. John

adventure stories 1930s

Another hot day in Kansas City began by 9 a.m., and David sighed.  Why the hell did we move here?  Why? Chicago to Kansas City was a leap of insanity, especially in July.

David found himself on the library steps, trudging up into the brisk cool air of books and tables, musty and old.  

Purposefully, David headed back to where he had last tossed “The Adventures of Lord James St. John” onto the floor.  The book, of course, had been shelved by some over-zealous librarian.  Even so, he caught the sapphire blue spine among other lined up remnants of insipid adventure fiction books.

Sitting in a dark corner on a battered leather chair, David experienced a surge of anticipation.

“…the ground rumbled beneath him... as he raced ahead of the cave-in, only to sense burning vitriolic acid mist surrounding him, engulfing him.  The air morphed into a freezing mixture, combined with rotten egg scent of  liquid sulfuric acid…

Oh, come on!  Sulfuric acid AND gaseous nitrous oxide?  Together? Ancient tribes would have no knowledge…Idiot writer…Do your research, why dontcha? David sneered.

“Misfortune loomed as the fumes waved over him.  Coughing through a torn shirt sleeve, he had an epiphany. Holding his breath, he crouched and crept along the craggy cave floor, breathing through the rock and dirt.  

Stay low, stay low…out of the mist…David whispered.

 A light gleamed ahead, a source of rescue. St. John tumbled and rolled into the bright daylight.  He snatched grass and twigs to pull him the rest of the way until he could escape the fumes. Lord James revived just enough to see his worst nemesis towering over him. Lord James St. John groaned.

David smirked. Well then…this was unpredictable. He should have been taken captive, tortured, or something.

A tall man glared down at him.  “…had to take another gamble, didn’t you?...A man who finds  misfortune, unworthy to bear the colors of the St. John banner…”

James lost consciousness blessedly, but when he came to, the man was still there, still haranguing at his son.  “…you impertinent worthless…."

Can’t he just shut up…just shut up…David growled.

First you deny the privilege of serving Queen and Country…A PACIFIST….”

David groaned. His dad.  Just silly plot twist.  Come on, really?

Lord James William Arthur St. John, puffed out his medal covered chest. “Why, in my day…”

Lord James St. John gazed through a haze at the self-proclaimed hero of martial glory.  Before passing out with a fading smile, he whispered, “You peacock you…”

David chortled.  Flipped a few pages ahead, Lord James St. John was already on another adventure.

Why not?  He took the book to the check-out desk.

The underlined words were provided in 2015 from Wednesday Words, maintained by several talented bloggers: Elephant's Child, River, Delores. Over the years, the words have been challenging and entertaining.

After editing and rewriting and then editing more, this emerged. It was a load of fun, but then, isn't writing just that?

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