Life
at 70. So much change now, seemingly daily. I know that I am not
changing as fast as the world is. In large part, because the past 70
years have set so much in stone. I am constantly going back to old
ways for understanding these times and old ways to keep up the life.
Change is out pacing me.
I
am reminded that Tom Selleck well depicted the older man and change
in the movie, Monte Walsh. The movie opens with this old cowboy sitting
in a rocking chair, eating a can of peaches with a little bourbon
tossed into the broth. A can of peaches grounded Monte Walsh in the
ever changing world in the late 1800's. The satisfaction and look on
his face, as he eats a half peach form the can, tells the whole story
to me. The working world of the cowboy was disappearing, the
automobile was hitting the trails and the folks driving them spoke
that horses would soon be outlawed on the roads. Hard reality for the
cowboy to see coming. Add to that their ways of living and earning a
living were also dying. Monte was bound to hang on as long as he
could. Near the end of the movie, Monte rides into town, visits with
an old friend and chooses to purchase a can of peaches over a bottle
of bourbon. And to add insult to injury, Monte finds that the can of
peaches has risen to 5 cents. Maybe this can of peaches was eaten
at the end of the trail that night to again ground and bring
familiarity to Monte in a changing world.
Change
is constant. Younger folks work their way though it and easily adapt.
I am learning that older folks (this one for sure) struggles.
I
do find though that we can bring moments into our lives that give
great satisfaction and glue our past to the future. And maybe only
for us which is just fine. Those are times we let go of everything
and see the moment and take part of the greatness of that.
On
a warm summer day, I find a great moment in finishing another row of
cord wood in the wood shed. I position the chair outside between the
garage and shed with sun not in my eyes, yet warming me. The new row
of wood is in the center of my view, the tools are strewn where they
were last used.
A
cold beer from the fridge, I remove the cap like I use to do when I
was young. The dog sits down next to me as I prop up my feet. The
moment has begun. And there will be no more work done that day. The
next half hour is spent in longing thoughts and the beauty of split wood
neatly stacked. Each piece is a project in of itself and blends into a artful masterpiece that is a row of firewood. I am always at ease and
at home in house heated with wood.
A
few years back, our neighbor and close friend, invited us over for
dinner. He brought out a bottle of Remy Martin CO Cognac and two
small shot glasses. We were going to enjoy a few shots and the time
to sit and visit. In all my years, I had never had Remy Martin Cognac. After the first shot, I told him that
it is a very good thing I did not know about this during my drinking
years. After dinner that night, he gifted me the rest of the bottle.
A gesture beyond anything needed for our friendship. But more as
a sign of the depth of our friendship.
I
set the remainder of that bottle in the plow truck and vowed to only
partake when plowing the snow from the driveway that winter. That
worked for a few times until the day I remembered there were a few
shots still left in the bottle sitting on the front seat of the plow
truck. To this day, a shot of good Cognac brings with it that moment
with my friend, his dinner table, our conversation and laughter.
Every time.
I
understand the can of peaches!
