Grasping the significance.

I’ve crammed far too much into four days. But I have no serious regrets about it. I’ll reflect.  Over the next several days. About the experience. Of boarding a plane. In Minneapolis. To Las Vegas. On Monday. And returning today. Thursday.  Now I have to take my leisurely time. Evaluating, Grasping. Savoring. The experiences. Of being. Where I’ve never been before. Maybe in hell. Because of daytime temperatures of 114 degrees Fahrenheit. But still, I dared go for a short walk. In Death Valley.  And lived. To return to Las Vegas. To a relatively balmy 102 degrees.  I never had an overwhelming desire. To visit Las Vegas. Or Death Valley. But my German cousin Fritz and two of his buddies, Dieter and Dirk, are spending three weeks touring the U.S. And they arrived. In Las Vegas. On Monday. And I felt duty-bound to be there. To greet them. After all, I’ve visited Fritz. On several occasions. In Germany. And he’s always been a gracious and congenial host. No doubt. My favorite cousin. He’s been wonderful. Introducing me to my paternal German roots. And our common ancestry. Which he’s traced back to the 1600s. In Switzerland.  Our ancestors migrated to Germany. After the 30 Years War. Little did they ever imagine. That their progeny. Fritz and Jim. Would be cavorting. Five-hundred years later. In a glitzy gambling mecca. Called Las Vegas. In the state of Nevada. In the United States of America.   And here I am. Just starting to grasp the significance of it all.  –Jim Broede