Calling Cadence
by Random Walker
Copyright© 2024 by Random Walker
True Story Story: At the time of my father's 65th birthday, I was 42, and my oldest son was 21. My son had just joined the Marine Corps, like my dad, and I had a moment of clarity about the influence he had on both of us. This was his 'birthday card' that year.
Tags: True Story
Cadence
As constant as the sunrise, it’s been there all my life. Steady, unwavering, providing a backbeat and keeping time. Sometimes close and overwhelming, and as often far away, hearable only by listening closely. At times, I made so much noise I couldn’t hear it, but I realize now it was there all along. Cadence.
When I was a kid, I didn’t know there was any other way. Didn’t every life have a metronome? I learned otherwise, and for a time, discounted the need for such rhythm. I lived with the syncopation of Jazz; faster, slower, anything different. The constant cadence faded from my thoughts and I thought I was calling my own tune. No pattern, no trail to follow, and no need. I was in complete control of my destiny, and no one had ever been this way before.
Behind all this counterpoint, the cadence continued. I learned, eventually, that the best jazz might vary wildly from a rhythm, but never abandons it. The melody circles, twists, and turns, but the rhythm is always there. Cadence.
After going for years thinking I was blazing my own trail, I realized I was following a path. Like awakening from a dream, the veil was lifted, and I could see the footsteps of another. Regularly spaced, long and even, they lead ahead of me. Looking back now, I know they had always been there. Mostly leading, at times they were beside me, as I struggled to find my way. During the many detours on my path, they had remained constant, marking time until I returned.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.