There is a car show near one of the local Farmer’s markets by my house that I sometimes visit.
A famous local bakery is in the same location but they are closed on Sundays so I never worry about being tempted to visit when I go see the wares on display.
Sometimes I hear locals complain about the Beto sign in the window and sometimes I hear them offer words of support but I almost never engage because I like to drink my coffee and feel the sun upon my back.
Not long ago a young boy told me to come inside his grandfather’s 68 Cougar or Camaro, he wasn’t sure which.
I smiled at him and said I used to drive a ’77 Camaro, “last year of the steel bumper.”
The boy is around five or six so the year doesn’t mean much to him but an older kid says I must really be old to have had one of those.
I smile, nod my head and go walk by the cars and notice no one is sitting in them. I can’t blame the owners as who wants hot and sweaty strangers carrying assorted foods to sit in their classic car.
Not far away I watch two little girls chase each other in circles and look for a parent. Two women are talking nearby but they aren’t facing each other because the one is watching the girls.
It makes me smile to see and remember the days when my own children required that kind of attention.
The newest college student called the other night and talked about how the women’s bathroom in one of the dorms was shut down because a group of freshman girls destroyed it after a night of drinking.
We’re a long way from the days of her chasing her friends in circles.
Two Weeks
Got two weeks before my old man misses another birthday, would have been number 79. I am tempted to fly home and wait for my mother to leave the house so I can reorganize a bunch of drawers.
I’ll make a bunch of lists to go with it and use the label maker to label a bunch of stuff.
Would be nice to have him here to give him the update on the kids and I wouldn’t mind listening to mom complain about his reorganizing things again.
I can’t tell him he has too much time on his hands if he is focusing on that kind of stuff nor get glared at for telling him I make lists in my head.
He’d appreciate his grandson complaining about how he makes bad jokes like his father or how he does XYZ like me.
I’d tell the younger Mr. Wilner that he ought to blame his grandfather for indoctrinating me and Dad would blame grandpa.
That is the kind of ridiculous nonsense I miss but the memories are strong enough that Dad and grandpa are here with me.
We never did get to buy a car to work on rebuilding together, at least not in a physical garage.
Nor can I tell him about the contest I won or how it connects to something that happened several years ago and how I dug in, determined to make sure I was given my due.
Sometimes you plant your damn feet, dance through fire, sail through the storm and claim what you worked for.
****
My middle sister is an official empty nester now and a few more contemporaries are becoming grandparents.
Women who threw themselves in front of suitors for their daughters are now throwing keys and cash at their son-in-laws and telling them to take their daughters away for a weekend.
Yesterday they would cut you for how they looked at their daughter and now the guys get blue pills and a blessing.
It is a crazy world I tell you.
Go Forth & Experience Life
Somewhere in the middle of my daughter’s description of her chemistry quiz and things that happened during her lab I start laughing.
I apologize and tell her how excited I am for her because I love these stories about college and they remind me of things that happened.
“Go forth and experience life. You will never have this time of life again, use it, love it and live it. It is awesome.”
Later I add that the post college world isn’t bad and there are many things that are amazing about what comes afterwards.
That is all true and I am not making anything up but it is very different.
I shared the postscript about what happens afterwards with her intentionally because I want her to understand this moment in time is special, but it is not the pinnacle.
There are other things worth striving, waiting and working for. It is an evolution and an experience.
But damn, this time of life…
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