11/22/63 The Book
Today most people are thinking about the approaching Thanksgiving thinking, planning, cooking and getting ready to celebrate with family and friends. It is my experience that this holiday is primo, better than Christmas, or what ever your major day of the year is. It’s a day where commercialism has no hold, no gifts except that of appreciation.
Unless you were born prior to 1960 you will not have a memory of the events of 11/22/63. You know I did not appreciate this fully until a day long ago,when I made a comment about Jack Kennedy and my sons asked, “Who is Jack Kennedy?”
That got me thinking about perception and the things that shape our world. Now I don’t mean our world in the broad sense, I mean our personal internal world and all the things or events that help shape who we are, that touch us in some way.
For some of a more current generation it might be 9/11, or the assassination, or….? For my parents generation who lived through the second world war it may have been an event for that, the Holocaust, the loss of friends, sons, fathers, mothers,…well you get the idea. For my mother who served in the WRENS in Britain, it was the memory of working in a command center and when a submarine went down off the coast of Britain and while radio contact was maintained there was no way to rescue those men and all she and her people could do was listen to them die.
Stephen King, my greatest inspiration, although I cannot read some of his books, has published 11/22/63 and in that magnificent King way of his has given the events a twist – of course. What if the assassination could be prevented?
I cannot comment on the story as I have just begun to read it, but it does make me wonder – if we could change the outcomes, would we or even should we?
Our growth as human beings depends on our ability to adapt and learn and move forward. There comes a time when, I believe, most of reach a point of acceptance, liking who we have become and are comfortable in our own skins even though, by that point our skins seem to hang loosely on out bones.