Three score and a couple years ago, I spewed forth to being upon this continent, to the pure joy of my parents, and the utter chagrin of my older brothers. Since that time, the reviews would be a mixed bag among the other humans that I’ve made contact with. That’s likely not unusual for most people who make it this far. That number is a milestone for a number of reasons. As such, it warrants a few moments and words.
I don’t believe that congratulations are deserved just for living ones life. Each of us has trials and tribulations, obstacles to overcome. Achievements. Pitfalls. Failures. Rebounds. So, what then is the point of a milestone? A review? A reflection? Just replaying ones great achievements seems too narcissistic to me. A sign hanging on the wall in my house speaks of, “the number of breaths you take in life is not as important as the number of moments that take your breath away.” So, as I reflect on the this milestone, what comes to mind are a few of those images, feelings, events, and people that stood out as special.
Some of the moments that have taken my breath away:
Watching bald eagles mating flights over the St Croix River.
Helping a woman bring her new daughter into this world.
Holding the hand of a dying stranger as his spirit left his material body for the last time and travelled to the afterlife.
Swatting my hand and killing eleven mosquitos. Then, after escaping into the safety of a nylon tent with my brother, we attempted to calculate the number of mosquito carcasses it would take to completely fill up the cylinders of a 327 cubic inch engine. (I no longer remember) Then, trying to get to sleep while listening to the buzz of a billion vengeful mosquitos, each yearning for one drop of my blood. What would I look like in the morning if the tent were not between me and them?
Seeing the ocean as flat and still as a mirror, not even a minor blemish as far as the eye could see.
The power of the thunderstorm crashing through a high mountain valley, lightning cracking all around making the air smell of ozone.
Standing and looking down at the actual documents that this country was founded on. Not photocopies or pictures in a book. the actual signed two-hundred year old documents.
Seeing the look of understanding appear in a student’s eyes for the first time after a dozen failed attempts.
Having a squirrel scamper down a tree, that I was sitting at the base of while deer hunting, and sit on my camouflaged hat/head not realizing that I was not part of that tree. He actually went back up the tree after several minutes without raising the alarm! I still don’t know how I kept from laughing while he sat there eating his acorns, dropping the hulls in my lap.
The Arizona Memorial, Arlington Cemetery, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, The Alamo, Gettysburg Battlefield. Just go to these places. You’ll understand the feeling once you get there.
I can’t begin to talk about the people. Way too many. Oh, how I want to. Even some of you reading this…
That’s some of my moments. Thank you for letting me reflect on them. In one of my favorite movies, “Meet Joe Black,” an a dying woman tells the doctor that, in the end, all life is about is collecting pretty pictures. That is what we take with us. I thought that was an interesting way to look at it. I’ll keep collecting mine and I hope you do too.
Tales From The Hare 