I like the quote to the left. "What a wonderful thought it is that some of the best days of our lives haven't happened yet." However, I think it is a quote for younger people. As people age, I have noticed many tend to live in the past. I catch myself doing this often. Nothing in life prepares a person for getting older. It happens while we are busy with our daily lives and goals. The young think the world was made for them and they will never age. There is no reason for them to worry. Everything life has to offer is before them. As older adults, we find ourselves looking back often analyzing our lives. Questioning decisions we made, and chances we took. One year turns into ten years, before we realize it. Then ten years turn into twenty, once again before we know it, we are staring retirement in the face. We live with the choices we made. The stressful part of life is over. It is time to do all the things that were put on hold while we lived a productive family life. This is where it gets tricky.
In my mind I am about forty, the rest of my body disagrees. When I go clothes shopping, I have to go to the other end of the rack now instead of the skinny section. Occasionally, I am in the wrong store. I look around at the clothes and think, 'Hmmm I wore these clothes in the 70's. I am not sure I want to wear them again.' I find a more 'age appropriate store' and look at what a 66 year old woman should wear and I say, "Oh, Hell No!" and I find myself in the first store . . . again. Looking desperately for something that doesn't show my ass or my bust. Good luck with that! Apparently, when I was young, I showed a lot more of myself than I realized at the time.
I ramble around until I find something that will work. A little bit of this and a touch of that and before you know it I am ready to go home. Mother Nature and I have split the difference. I can live with that if she can.
As I sit here, I have a heart monitor hooked up to my chest sending a continuous ECG to someone --somewhere. They are looking inside my heart for the next thirty days. That has to be one boring job. I doubt if anyone is really looking. I lost the cell phone transmitting all this crap yesterday and no one called to see if I was dead! That was reassuring.
It is an odd feeling knowing there is more time behind me than in front of me. On the other hand, I have achieved almost everything I wanted to in life. No complaints there. When Tommy and I retired we had a simple plan.
1. Do something productive every day.
2. Witness more sunsets and dawns.
3. Learn something new each week.
4. Stop wearing a watch.
5. Pursue any unfulfilled desires.
6. Find a way to share our blessings.
Lacey and Melodi will have a baby in the Spring. A grandchild is a huge blessing and something we all look forward to. Jacy and Logan are busy growing up. Jace is a teenager now and Logan isn't far behind. Lisa and Lisle are in the process of moving to a new home. Both of them have jobs they really like. Lisa is working on her Masters degree. Tami, continues to write books and seek God's plan for her life. There is a lot going on in our family, just like it is in everyone's family. Vacations have occurred and more are planned. Hobbies started--hobbies stopped. It is a busy time in this gift called 'life'. The other day, I heard someone on the radio say, "We are only given so many trips around the sun. Make the most of them." I am inclined to agree with that statement.
The Fall season took its place on the calendar around 3:21 this morning. One season evolved into another while we slept. Very little in Missouri changed overnight to mark Fall's arrival. As the day progressed it was sunny and hot, the same as the last day of summer was yesterday. The temperature reached 85 degrees.
While drinking coffee this morning, my mind rambled back to the summer. I logged on to my computer searching for photos of the summer of 2015. Photos are the proof of my memories. I look at them and I remember the day or event. If my home caught fire, the two things I would grab would be my photos and Tommy's love letters. Both of those items are things I could never replace. He doesn't remember half of what he wrote--but I do and that is what matters to me.
Summer took its time arriving. June was the wettest month we have had in recorded history. As far as temperatures went, we never reached 100 degrees. Unofficially, at my house we did three times. Several times during the summer we had lows in the 50's.
Tommy and I did not fish as much as we usually do. The days were often too humid. When we did go, we fished Little Dixie. I love that place. We seldom caught anything worth keeping but the view was delightful, the coffee good and the company even better.
We spent as much time strolling the trails in Little Dixie as we did fishing. The lake is 205 acres. It is nestled in the midst of 733 acres. Nature trails, both man made and animal, are everywhere. Each new view is in competition with the last view seen.
On any given day we could be found driving the back roads of Callaway County, especially around sunset. An old gravel road is a moment in life waiting to be photographed. Old broken down barns and homes have a hidden history. Stories few people know or care about. Often Tommy and I make up our own version of what we saw. One old house was ready to fall down. It was still hanging on, fighting weather and decay; but loosing the battle each year that passed. I fell in love with that old memory. Someone took great care in the structure of their home. Later we learned its story. At one time it was a huge two story home, with a winding stairway and a veranda almost as large as my home. The couple who built the home had 22 children between the two---his, hers and theirs. I can't imagine raising 22 children. That is a lot of people to care for, feed, clothe and love. I had 3 beautiful daughters... our greatest treasures. I swear there were times it felt like I had twice that many children -- I never corralled the hidden three kids to confirm that suspicion.
Every year I spend a small fortune on flowers for each season. I am in the midst of building perennial beds that no longer need to be planted year after year. Honestly, I am tired of all the work that goes with keeping flowers beautiful. I am delegating this job to Mother Nature. I think she will do a better job than I usually do. While driving the back roads, some of the prettiest flowers I have seen all summer are perennial wild flowers; growing here and there, keeping company with cows and buzzards. When I was a little girl, I used to say,' God made wild flowers for poor people.' Every time I said something along that line, Mama thought I was about to die.
Tommy and I will probably go to the river late this afternoon. Perhaps we will eat supper at our favorite bar and grill. I am still in pursuit of buzzards. I missed many photo shots, that begged to be taken, because I forgot my camera. I am not giving up. I still have time to get a few good photos. Tommy teases me about my fascination with buzzards this year. It is true, the buzzards are trapped in my imagination. In one missed shot, a dead tree was filled with close to twenty buzzards. It was an ironic photo --and I wanted it, but missed the shot Another time, we were rounding a curve on our road, six buzzards sat on an old rail fence. All of them were transfixed on something in the water. One turned around and looked at the truck, ignoring us he returned to watching the muddy water with rest of his buddies. There were several good shots in those few seconds. Then they flew away.
This is first time in my life I have ever been this curious about buzzards. There is a story and a photo in my mind growing bigger each day. From a distance these scavengers look enchanting. Soaring to great heights as they scan the area below looking for a dead carcass. They remind me of a certain type of human, who looks lovely from a distance however, the closer they get, the more undesirable they become--much like the buzzards.
All to soon the trees will start to change colors, birds and buzzards will migrate to warmer weather. Nature will strut her colors while mere mortals try to capture her beauty with a camera. This is an on going game nature and people play. Find the perfect tree, find the perfect leaf, find the perfect love and see what happens.
Last week was the week from Hell for Tommy. He worked hard, 8 hours a day, doing manual labor for a couple of friends. When he came home at night he looked like death warmed over. He actually stumbled in the back door one night. No matter what I said, he was determined to work...and work he did. When he was young he worked like this but he isn't young and he is retired. We don't work hard. That defeats the whole purpose of retiring. Every day he promised me he would take it easy and rest. He lied.
I knew he would not have time to rest before our trip to Kentucky. I was right. He woke up at 3:30 a.m. Friday morning and got me up at 4. We were out the door and on the way to Kentucky by 5 a.m.
The trip down was nice and easy going. Once we arrived in Clinton we stopped to visit with our good friend John Kelly Ross. I also talked with Lou Conner. It was a pleasure to see these old friends again. John has the best sense of humor, and can tell a story perfectly.
Tommy and I decided to spend the night in Union City, Tenn. We paid for our room but had to wait for it to be cleaned. This left us 2 hours to kill. Tommy was tired, hungry and did I mention tired, well if I didn't. . . he was TIRED... and while I am at it I will throw in Grumpy too. 'We' could not decide what Tommy wanted to do! He wanted to wash the truck but was hungry. He needed to sleep but had no room to lay down. At that time there was no room in the inn. He decided to wash his truck first, then eat, and finally try the motel again.
Fine by me, I was only thirsty. I remembered we had 5 small bottles of frozen strawberry water in our cooler. That was all I wanted. . . a drink of water. I opened a bottle while Tommy was trying to pull out into oncoming traffic. Never once did it enter my mind that such a simple thing could cause me so much trouble. But it did. There was no stop light, it was jump and go kind of driving. The four lane was busy with people on their lunch break. No one would let us out of the driveway or into the traffic. Finally, there was a slight pause in the traffic allowing Tommy to jump in a lane. That is about the time I opened my water bottle. The cap and about an inch of ice, the size of a bullet, shot out of my bottle and hit the windshield. KABOOM!!! It bounced back and hit me in the chest. I screamed, Tommy screamed, and then I fell over in one of those uncontrollable laughing fits that only happen to me when I am too tired and have lost all control of my emotions. Tommy yelled at me to see if I was alright, because he thought someone had fired a shot at us and I was hit and crying. I squeaked through a round of gut laughter, "I- I- I am fine". He was scared and furious. I should have been but I wasn't so, I continued to laugh. Every time I thought of how that scene must have looked, I started laughing all over again. Snorting, eyes watering, nose running kind of laughter. Tommy was soooo through with me. The only reason he didn't pull over and try to put me out, is because he knew I wouldn't budge.
We washed the truck and he was mad! We ate lunch and he was mad. Finally, we make it back to the motel and he was mad. He did get some sleep, when he woke up he was not mad anymore.
Me??? I still think it is one of the funniest things to happen to us this year, and we have a long list of funny mishaps so far. . . and it is only the beginning of September. For some reason, I do not think Tommy will ever think, at least this year, this day in our life was funny. Some day he will, but not today and I am pretty sure not tomorrow. I am still laughing as I type these last words...and I know funny when I see it, after all I live with him and we share this crazy experience called life. Thankfully, most of the time, it is funny indeed. We need to realize this more often.
