Sometimes in this life, there are moments of clarity in which we know something that we should not yet know. I don't believe that I am actually unusual in this, as I think most people, if they are reflective, and honest and have a decent memory will remember such circumstances.
When my Dad was young, he had one of these moments. As he listened to the radio and heard Hitler, he believed that he, and the rest of the world would be drawn into a world war and that my father might lose his own life, if he did not choose his role in this war carefully. His family, including uncles and aunts who were teachers, principals and professors tried to allay his fears and tell him that the war was simply a European phenomenon, but somehow my father knew. This motivated him to become a Merchant Marine Radio Operator at sixteen, when just after Pearl Harbor, funds were quickly funneled to the programs teaching such skills. My father had many such moments of clarity in his lifetime, some were positive, and some were sad, but they did allow him to plan in a manner which benefited those he loved.
I too can remember such moments of clarity. On a class trip I took in middle school to George Washington's home, Mount Vernon, I had a strange and sad feeling. I felt a strong draw South and I wished we weren't returning to the Northeast. Somehow I knew that the best years of my life would be spent South of the place I was standing, and I remember that strange feeling, that pull, to this day.
Eventually, as a young married adult with then two small children I had eventually moved to a suburb of Richmond, Virginia. At one point, I accepted a job at what was then St. Luke's Hospital in Richmond's western end. Traveling to the hospital in those first weeks from my new home, took me on roads that were not yet familiar. At one point after work, even through I knew that I was supposed to take the highway heading East, for some reason I was drawn to the West. My head knew that the house we had just bought was East of the hospital some distance, but again I was strangely drawn West, believing that my long term home was certainly West of the hospital. I traveled West for about twenty minutes past miles and miles of evergreens and oaks beside the highway. Eventually, I took the next exit and turned around and went home, but I didn't forget this. Ten years later, we bought ninety acres in that place to which I had been traveling. We built a farm there, and raised a total of five children there. Indeed, that area had been the place in which I have been happiest.
I also recall, that a few days before the birth of my third child, we were in the car and headed for the hospital. I had been having some complications and thought it was likely that I would be admitted that day, and I was afraid. All at once, we made a left at St. Matthew's Church. In that moment I knew that the baby I would have in the next couple of days would be a boy, and his name would be Matthew. I could envision him as a child, with blond hair, green eyes, and very quick and bright. Although we'd had ultrasounds, we had not been told our child's sex. Three days later, in the morning, Matthew was born, and as a child, he became exactly who I had imagined in those frightened moments before his birth.
It's a shame that we can't will these moments of occasional clarity that human beings have sometimes. Perhaps all we can do, is accept these flashes of clarity when they do come. May your life bring you as many pleasant moments of this type of clarity as is possible.
