The empty house

What do you do with an empty house? 

A house that once was the epicenter of vibrant life, but now quietness reigns inside the walls. The clocks still tick away the minutes and hours. The refrigerator hums and the freezer freezes.

Yes, it's nice to walk in and sit down and relax and think. The furnishings are much the same as they have been for years. 

The occupants are gone.

So what do you do with an empty house?

Yesterdays worries

Picture if you will, sitting by the bedside of your father, who is propped up in bed, eyes closed, the soothing hum of a small fan running at the foot of the bed. A hundred and one birthdays my father has observed. I wonder if any one of those stand out in his mind and bring a peaceful recollection of a particular event that brings vivid images in his mind. Surely he remembers birthdays with mom with whom he was a life partner for seventy seven years.

I helped him while he ate a cupful of strawberry icecream. He does love icecream. He's sleeping peacefully now, in his own world. 

I wonder if he ever thinks about all those tough years in Missouri, trying desperately to eke out a living on our tiny farm and wondered how he would keep mom happy and feed us children.

 Does he think about the hard times in California working on the carpenter crew,    being gone all week, leaving mom alone, pretty much to fend for herself. 

He's had a lot to think about through his life, but I wonder, does he worry about yesterday. 

Best Place Ever

   It seems that many of us, at some point, are driven by a compulsion to convince others that, geographically, the place we live is simply the best place ever. However, deep down we know that we, or for that matter no one, can lay claim to living in the ideal location. Regrettably there are no Edens left. Although that's probably a good thing, for if there were, everyone would want to live there, and humans, being what they are, soon it would surely lose its distinction of paradise. 

Every place on earth, bar none, has its drawbacks; too hot, too cold, too wet or too dry, too windy and barren, or subject to earthquakes, tornados, hurricanes or floods. No decent way too make a living, at least to our way of thinking, or the local culture clashes with our own. Some of us may envy our old friends who still live back in the old familiar surroundings that we, in our fantasies, sometimes long for. The list is endless. Maybe that's why we need to convince others, because in doing so we fortify our own position, thereby convincing ourselves. 

There is no perfect place to live, persuading as we may be in arguing the point. 

When discouragement does set in, and believe me, eventually it will, and on occasion with a vengeance, one may have a propensity to keep it under wraps to save face. 

For some it may reach critical mass and can be contained no longer. Suddenly everything that could possibly be wrong with a given locale plagues the one we inhabit at the moment and discouragement runs rampant, inciting an attitude of doom and gloom and we begin to look for greener pastures. 

And therein lies the rub. 

With few exceptions, pastures are not greener. They just appear that way from a distance; especially if we're wearing rose colored glasses to enhance the view. 

Do I have a solution for this malady?

Contentment comes to mind. 

Does that mean there's never occasion to relocate?

No. We've all done it (with few exceptions) and maybe been the happier for it. 

I think it comes down to the question of why. When we can answer that truthfully, with a clear conscience, unfettered with selfish influence, the path will be clear. 

Very few observations are new; this one being no exception. Nothing new under the ,sun you know. 

On a recent trip, as we were making our way across Texas, I was thinking, and believe me, when you drive across Texas, you have time to think; not to mention philosophize, contemplate, analize, go glassy eyed, count to three zillion, daydream, wander, wonder, remunerate, renumerate, enumerate and go stir crazy. Not that it isn't pretty, there's just so much of it. 

Anyway, while we were driving through the endless rolling hills between San Antonio and El Paso, I suddenly got lonesome for the mountains. The last thing I'd seen resembling mountains was Tucumcari Hill in my rear view mirror, and that was approximately three thousand miles ago. Saw a lot of beautiful flatlands and forested hill country; but no mountains. I began to think, as we sometimes do when driving through a particular stretch of land we find unappealing; why would anyone want to live here?

Years ago I thought those same thoughts when driving down I-40, or old U.S 66 crossing Arizona. How wrong I was. 

It's the best place ever. 

Echoes

The drumbeats have long ago silenced 

Forgotten, their rhythmical sway.

The smoke from the wanderers campfire 

Through ages has drifted away. 

Ten thousand flickering campfires 

Cold ashes returned to the ground 

The halls of the canyons no longer

The echo of voices resound

I step with a strange hesitation 

On ground where they made their last stand

Their epitaph written in whispers 

Borne gently across the warm sand

There runs through my mind like a phantom 

An image of what must have been

A simple people, yet noble

Their memory gone like the wind 

Reflecting I gaze o're the landscape

And savor a moment of peace. 

The wanderers spirit of freedom

Rides still on the wings of the breeze. 

Ode to my Brother

Autumn leaves scattered

Crackling fires

Evening sun paling 

Summer retires. 

Long days retreated

Childlike and free

Gaity traded

For melancholy. 

Standing above you

Wind blown and drear

Uncomprehending 

Year after year. 

Heartstrings are tugging

Memories renew

Olden times faded

Come into view. 

Memories linger

Through misty eyes

Lonely heart shattered

Love never dies. 

Nostalgia

How oft' in moments of quiet repose

My mind wanders back to those days long ago,

And a sweet, peaceful sadness steals o're my frame,

As I long to recapture my childhood again.

Just to be back home with Mother and Dad,

With brothers and sisters, when I was a lad. 

The good times and bad; they live with me still,

I'd go back there now, if it were Gods will. 

I'd walk once again through the house we called home,

Through the pasture and meadow, to the creek I would roam. 

I'd gaze o're the hillsides and thank God above

For the blessings He gave us; the blessing of love. 

I'd go to the churchyard, and there shed a tear,

Remembering the old times when God drew so near. 

The old fashioned preaching still rings in my soul. 

I'll cherish the memories while years by me roll. 

My old friends are gone now, to where I can't tell. 

But the good times we shared, I remember so well. 

Some how, some where I know they remain,

For they stroll with me now, down memory's lane. 

The musings of someone who has been wrong more than right, demonstrated more ignorance than knowledge, lost a lot but hit it lucky in most ways that count. This is dedicated to my good friend Nancy, who with much patience ( and I'm sure much rolling of the eyes ) helped me set up this blog.

In recent years it has become increasingly impressive to me how we humans are so much alike. 

Growing up, and well into adulthood, I had the misguided conception that many of my problems were unique to me. That conception, I'm glad to say, has changed dramatically. We are created with a quality that may be novel to our species; the ability to share deeply in the feelings of others. 

We, unlike all other animal life are capable of analyzing another persons behavior and relating to it. Not necessarily that we approve or disapprove, but it is understanding. I believe that our differences, from out type of dress, to political ideology, should be judged accordingly. We share pleasure and pain, happiness and sorrow, excitement and the mundane with those around us. We are able to base our opinions and reactions on how we, ourselves would handle another persons circumstances.  

That may be tricky business because we don't always know the facts surrounding a given situation, or the persons history. If we can give people the benefit of the doubt, and approach their behavior in a neutral fashion, our vision will be clear and unbiased. 

That takes a giving up of our own selfish feelings of being right and superior. 

It's amazing how much we learn and the changes we are compelled to make as we strive for maturity.