It recently came up on a Facebook page for the Northwest Side of Chicago, the RR tracks in the neighborhood I grew up in. We lived on a one-way street with a freight train track at the end of the street. The tracks were raised about 3 stories above the houses and it was a grassy knoll that added charm to the neighborhood. I have grown up loving the sound of a train and to this day appreciate the slow, rumbling of the tracks. Trains have significance in dreams, in literature, and its synchronicity of life, people, along with its suspense of places unknown and the romance of adventure.
At birth we boarded the train that met our parents and I was glad that we traveled through life together. As time went by other people boarded the train, my sister, family, friends, and loved ones. My grandparents first left, and then my parents stepped down from the train, leaving me to continue this journey on without them. Others have stepped down leaving a vacuum, and others I scarcely noticed that their seat was vacated.
The ride has been full of joy, sorrow, expectations, hellos, good byes, and fare thee wells. There is the remaining mystery for everyone, as we do not know at which station we ourselves will
step down. That leaves us with a life long responsibility to live in the best way, love, forgive and offer the best of who we are. When I hear that lonesome whistle blow and I step down, and leave my seat empty; it is a prayer that I will leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life.
Travel on and have a joyful journey, this train is bound for glory!
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