Skip to main content

Road to Gandolfo

Road to Gandolfo is a fictional book by one Robert Ludlum. One of those classic pieces my dad keeps telling me to read. I have never read it. And the bugger words are always stuck in my mind. I have never read it probably because its about a guy in the army. Well dont quote me wrong. But anything about the army and war stories, I sure do detest. Well, you see, I have lived half my life(I still got nine lives like that cat in my head)with army jargon.

Well, anyway, after crying half my tears out while watching "Pearl Harbor", I swore never to watch any army stuff again...thus the book! I always cry like a child. The ongoings in CAR(Central African Republic), Serbia, Somalia...eishhhh spare me the agony.

Thank you very much, am cool being a civilian.

So till now, I have no clue where the road to Gandolfo leads to. Well, I might as well google, but, naaa, I don't want to spoil my suspense. You see, I love my books. The smell of printed papers in a hard cover is one thing that has always remained priceless(well if you don't count the high heel boots in my head).

I tend to picture my "Gandolfo" as my endless journey to ageing. Well, am not that old, (I still think 30 is old). But am not there, yet. And the yet cannot be written in caps! ;)

As time goes by, as well as age, I learn new things, meet new people and do new things. Like at age 9, I discovered the love for poetry, 10 the love for short stories, 12 sweet valley high...and am unsure why this just is about books. At 19, I knew technology was my thing. Turn 20-something(yeah I know) and I discovered well, theres much more to marriage than I do, and being a mum was the most wonderful experience...and I kept learning and learning.

And on the road, we all collect pieces of weird friends and neighbors, we learn to co-exist with the most nagging colleagues, we smile and walk, we learn how not to befriend our bosses via facebook, learn that the best of friends are just your family,...we are shaped and moulded by both good and bad experiences. Gandolfo Journey? Not over.

We get lovers that we learn to love or hate, we are swept off the course by floods of loss, sadness,death yet we don't give up. We dust and keep the walk.

"You cant change the world", my brother once told me. "Some things are just fucked up...you cant change....", he insisted. But all along I have believed in a positive light. A way that we all can squeeze in and finally be led home...to freedom and painless walk, the final destination...Gandolfo!

I sure hope am right

Comments

Computer Doctor said…
Wow...... Awesomeness i got to say.. While at it.. i think nothing remains the same...everything changes..either +vely -gatively but change is the only thing that remains..
6 March 2014 at 23:51
carol gatonye said…
Thank you Computer Doctor...:)
I sure do agree...we conform to change...and walk, and learn...an ever unending cycle. We only help ourselves if we learn from the experiences
7 March 2014 at 00:45
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Who made us judge(s)?

"You looked at her and yelled out, Instantly never thinking of how, That may have made her feel. Did you ever stop to think that she, Dressed like that because of how it Made her feel?...." The poem reads in part. When I first read this poem, I said to myself, "oh jeez number one culprit of judgement". You see, am always judging people. I will make a comment in mind of how a woman has dressed,make a face and go "whatever" when someone looks at my legs. I have never really taken time to ask myself why a person is how they are. Am sure the throne of judgement gets sat on by each one of us..on a daily basis. Do you cringe when you see people kiss or hold hands in public? Whisper words like, "braggers", "she will get dumped". Do you find yourself laughing at a fat person and quickly judge her? "consequences of french fries", "how does one get that fat? Wasn't she checking?". Or when you see a man in sweat s...
4 comments
Read more

Through My Daughter's Eyes

I have a little angel in my house. A little pretty, flower girl that throws her hands up whenever I come home. A sign of appreciation and admiration I suppose. She's a bright little piece of art. Learning things very fast. Words, actions all in a manner that's a combination of pretty, witty, funny and cute. Yet she doesn't forget an action or word said. May it be an advert on tele, a weird random action I just did unknowingly. It sticks in her little mind.  Sticks and never goes away. So we mind our language whenever we are around her. We watch what we do, the programmes we subject her to, because whatever she sees, she copies and permanently pastes in her little head. Shes an awesome piece. She seems to appreciate life every time she wakes up. Giving off a soft mourn so that I can know she has just woken up. And when I do, she seems to tell me with her eyes. Well, mummy, am glad to be living. The brightness in her face and eyes are priceless. When in most cases I woul...
4 comments
Read more

Of Everything There Is

Am a fan. A huge fan of my mother. Cliche, right? But nop, my mum is one sole soul, I would actually wanna return on earth to be with. She is an amazing woman. I have no clue where she gets the strength to push on from. But I know she must be a bit unique to do so. I have had an amazing life experience. Having lived my life like a cat, nine lives may be an under statement. I have had all the things a woman can(or should). I have been lucky, and blessed I guess. I have seen the best of life, actually had the best in life, and have also lost the best of life. I tend to think of my life as a zipped folder. Archived in a way that only those close can take a glimpse and wonder or maybe disappear. But no, not my mother. She believes there's nothing new on earth. All things that happen have once happened. So nothing is ever new. Bad or good, she has weathered many storms to see me(and my siblings) beat the odds, literally. Being a woman is hard enough as it is. There are many things...
3 comments
Read more