So I 'celebrated' my 24th today. After work I took a short nap and then headed off to work out. My slow saunter back to the hooch inspired me to find my way up to the roof where I watched the sun set so slowly behind three mile mountain. Pearl Jam and The Beastie Boys wasn't exactly the most fitting soundtrack for the event, but it was what my iPod fed into my ears. You take what you get. Maybe life would be more like the movies if Ennio Morricone and John Williams dominated my playlist.
So as it turns out, Elvis is still pretty cool. I think he always will be.
Chinooks continue to impress me as alien. They have an appearance in flight that is on par with Arthur Clark's Sci-Fi imagination and the color of skin on a Giger-esque monster.
A seventy five ton tank adds intangible ambiance to the experience of smoking a cigar. Much in the same way that a glass of scotch doesn't.
Cutting edge GPS navigation that is accurate to one meter, uses a Datum that is decades old and is often only accurate to one kilometer. Maybe that is why pilots are always lost. Probably not.
W. Somerset Maugham hit the nail on the head when he said, "Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it."
Maybe as much as when he said, "The ability to quote is a servicable substitute for wit."
I am spiritually done with the army. I am exhausted and I want to go home.
I don't think that I regret enlisting. I still think it is something I will reflect on as having great value later in life. Now I think that for more and different reasons then what I anticipated originally. That is to be expected will all ventures.
I want to thank you all for your support. It has genuinely made the difference for me. Even the small act of reading this page reassures me that I have not been forgotten. It makes me remeber that there are people at home who care. You each have my deepest gratitude.
It is getting to be my bedtime, so I am going to turn off my brain, the lights and this here laptop.
63 Years of Memories....
63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.
There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.
Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!
How do you thank a place for memories?
3 comments:
Forgotten????
Never!!!!
Your musings are heartfelt and common for those of us who expect to accomplish something in life. In fact, I should offer you congratulations on yet another small step for mankind. You will, at some point, make a very big difference for a number of people. So sleep on, enjoy your rejuvenation, and wake refreshed to absorb new lessons and more information.
Anthropologically speaking, you're right on track - for it is ONLY with this contemplation such as you have experienced that humankind will progress. I am proud of you.
Think more. Act only when needed.
Love, Mom
Well, it is common family knowledge that I am horrible about birthdays, and this time is no exception. I sat by the computer all morning, waiting to hear the "door" open for my brother to walk in.. but he never did. I want you to know, that while I am seemingly absent from communication lately, it is not because I am not thinking about you. In fact, I think about you more than anything else. I think about you every day, all the time. I think about our road trips we've taken (the Lone Steer:), about jumping waves together in the boat as kids, taking rides in the woods in in Morfar's little trailer. I think about you playing the guitar while I sang along. I think about all the times you gave me more credit than I deserved, and all the times you went out of your way to say a few words to make me feel good about myself. I tell my friends stories about how smart you are, how funny you are, and how brave you are. I look at your picture every day, and I think how incredibly lucky I am to have always had you in my corner, to back me up, to calm me down, to challenge me, and to support me. I understand that your romance with the Army has faded, but to me, what will never lose it's brightness, is how proud I am of you, and how thankful I am to be your sister. You are MY hero, and I miss you enormously. Happy Birthday,
Love, Bree
Somehow I've gotten here too late and Bree has said all the things that are truly real and has left me speechless. I could follow with the classic line from the movie Ghost and say "Ditto" but that would be so Demi - and goodness knows Demi I am not, so instead I'll say - Hats off, Hugs all around and Cigars smoked in dreams, to you Little Bro on your Merrily 24th Birthday! The word proud doesnt have enought letters in it to fully encompass how I feel about what you are doing and the choices you have made. I hope that your sunset showed you infinite wisdom and the answer to the question of life.... I miss you in multiplicity, Lovingly, T
Post a Comment