“You can run, but you can’t hide.”
Those words suddenly popped into my head. I was bending over and picking up a cracker crumb on the kitchen floor.
I hesitated for a millisecond for what used to happen. I was thinking Lucy would have snarfed it up.
Lucy, the dog that kept floors clean.
There was a time I could have snapped a finger and pointed. She’d be on it. Snap. Snarf. Gone.
Lucy. She was the dog we had to put to rest months ago. But, for a second while staring at the crumb, I waited for her.
Then I remembered and mumbled, “Ahhh, you can run, but you can’t hide.”
Just when you think memories are faded, they spurt from a neon sign.
You think you’re over something. Moving on. But you’re not. There’s a thread still attached, dangling, that gets snagged and pulls you back.
You can’t hide from your true feelings. Some little thing comes along and reminds you.
It does come down to little things I think. Like cracker crumbs on the floor. And photos on the wall. And things people say … or do.
But you know what? All those little things … they’re still a big deal.
I don’t mind feeling some of the ache again. Because all those little things are part of me. Important parts.
I picked up that crumb and remembered all those races for food hitting the floor. I can still hear Lucy's clicking toe nails on the tile.
A goofy little cracker crumb gave me that simple flashback.
I am engulfed in little things that remind me of losses or moments that I would not mind reliving. I keep them around for a reason. In fact, that’s the point, I guess.
You can run, but you can’t hide.
And you know what? Sometimes that’s a good thing.
I’m Lonny Cain, and that’s my perspective.