Approaching 80

Approaching the 80 year point in life seems a bit like coming on a turn off on the Sky Line Drive or a sign "Beautiful Views" near the crest of a mountain. Having the time its a good place to stop and take in what's there.

From that vantage point one might even be able to see where one's been and then to inspire one to marvel at the circuitous route that brought one to this time and place. Fortunately my memory is no worse off than most people at this stage of life and I don't even need a birthday to set me off on a path of recollection that finds a plethora of treasures near and far. I am about as good as anyone at forgetting the unpleasant events and those I remember I try to pitch in my recycle bin.

It is the memories of "home" I treasure most. From my boyhood home to where home has been replanted again and again come those images of secure love and warm accptance that are soul sustaining. On warm summer evenings after baths were taken mother and I would sit on the front porch swing watching the shadows legthen and listening to the neighborhood sounds of comfortable family living. When it was nearly dark Mother would say "I think its time for ice cream." From the kitchen she brought bowls well filled with scoops of orange pineapple ice cream. Dad joined us from the study and tucked between the two I had the delicious experience of knowing all was well.

Forty five years later a Saturday night found me in a family room surrounded by a wife and six children watching Petticoat Junction on a black and white television and experiencing the same feelings of well-being and security.

Another forty years and I am looking over the landscape of a life that in some ways appears less secure and a body that reveals the wear and tear of every one of those years. And yet keenly aware that there is so much more that might be experienced. So many more books to read, music to hear, loaves of bread to bake, conversations to have, prayers to pray, relationships to be enriched by, places to explore. I may not go much farther, mother died at 69, or I may go on a while, Grandfather died at 96, Dad at 95. Either way 80 years provides an opportunity to remember a journey that has been profoundly meaningful and leaves me eternally grateful.