Trust me: time travel is tricky. Go too far in any one direction and you could end up with a Tyrannosaur and a Terminator at a tea party. While the potential for awesomeness is great, it will more times than not end in a loss of life and/or fine china. So even though there are words of mine that I wish were unsaid, fights not picked, one-pound cheeseburgers left uneaten, I realize that we are all part of a bigger story and the best character change can only come through conflict. Professionally, there are works and submissions that I have sent off too quickly that I wish I could do over. I have revised and revised and yet forgotten to read the thing aloud - a task that I have made years of students do - before sending it off as a finished product. Physician, heal thyself! My own impatience has been my worst nemesis as I watch those ships of opportunity set sail with me still on the shore. And yet these lessons, too, are an integral part of character growth.
In my experience I have found that there are always more opportunities; I need to keep my eyes open no matter how many times failure tempts me to tuck in my head and curl up in a ball. Opportunity will show up again, but probably wearing different clothes.
This is true except in the case of old people.
I have missed a big chunk of the story by not talking with my grandparents when I had the chance. I was always too busy with basketball or band or anything that didn't involve sitting around listening to an old person talk about their life. Now that they're gone, those are opportunities that will never show up again.
When my last grandparent died, I remember driving up to my parents' house after the funeral and hallucinating that my grandma's van was parked in its usual spot for family gatherings. The van had been at her house the last time that she was alive. Had she driven it over after her funeral? I had one more chance to listen to her, to hear about what she had learned in eight decades of life, to tell her that I love her. But the van wasn't there and neither was my chance.
So, what do I do now? Could I redo those missed opportunities with my grandparents? Much like time-traveling Tyrannosaurs, messing with the fabric of life and death itself comes with its own inherent complications. Instead, I grieve and in that grief I am shaped as a character. I grieve and then I tell stories, stories to my daughters about the grandparents who took me camping or taught me how to repair furniture or would generously cook me fifteen pancakes every summer morning despite how crazy that is. As you read about Wendell, Custodian of the Galaxy, in the March issue of Penumbra, know that he is partly inspired by stories of my lovable grandparents - and, you know, a giant intergalactic war with killer robots, but let's not get bogged down with technicalities.
At 6' 9" Brian Griggs is unofficially the world's tallest librarian (the claim was submitted to Guinness in November and is currently being processed). He has also taught English at both the junior high and high school levels.
Brian would love to chat with you about intergalactic wars with killer robots and can be reached on Twitter or on his website.
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