What I Had Become

As a boy, I thought I was Roy Rogers.

I had a hat, a holster and a gun.

When I grew a little older, I thought I was

a ball player. I had a bat, a ball and a glove.

When I was in my late teens I thought I was

a soldier. I swore an oath, wore the uniform

and trained for combat.

When I was nineteen, I married and had a child.

I thought myself a husband and father.

I got my first job, joined a union and thought

I was a factory worker.

I bought myself a car and a home. I believed,

and so I became a tax-payer and neighbor.

I went to church and became a god-fearing

religious man.

Years past, jobs came and went, and I became whatever

was required of me.

In middle-age, I had the crisis earmarked for me, and

with that I became a divorcee.

I became an alcoholic, and years later became

a recovering alcoholic.

I moved from town to town and lived in place

after place, became a salesman, an art director, a machine

operator, a newspaper man, a nursing home attendant,

a care-giver and delivery driver...

I became and became and became over and over again.

Eventually, I remarried and became a widower.

I became an atheist who dabbled in writing, photography

and the arts, vowing to never become again.

The years caught up to me, however, and I became

a crusty, curmudgeonly and disabled, old man

with lots of experience and mixed memories.

And here I am, what I have become today, that which

life had always intended for me—home alone, sheltered

in place with a lap dog for company.

The Roy Rogers’ period to begin with would have been

good enough for me. At least I had my imagination, a hat,

a holster and a gun.

                                             -30-

Chris Hanch 4-26-2020