“Woke up and looked out the window to see where the train had taken us on our night journey.
Somewhere west of Eden in a place that looked like a 150 other towns we had passed through.
A dilapidated building lay in front but the reason it caught my eye was the picture of a Phoenix rising on the side of it.
Freshly painted, it pointed the way.
“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. I get the feeling this isn’t going to be the easiest trip. Buck up and tighten your belt, you’re about to storm walk again.” The100 Year-old Penny Revisited
Spent a few minutes going through a box of old papers and assorted doodads in a box in the garage and came across a note that took me back.
Made me remember a time when someone asked me how I felt about an ex who was dating a junior college math professor.
I snorted and made some snarky remark about a guy who looked like a scarecrow with a face like a dried prune or something along those lines.
“Sounds like you really don’t like him.”
I shrugged my shoulders and said I didn’t have any interest in finding out if he was as dumb as he looked.
“Sounds like you want to punch him.”
“No, not really. My arm is bigger than his neck, got no interest in jail time for smacking a mutton head.”
“Still sounds like you’d kick his ass if he hurt her.”
“If he physically hurt her I’d break him into tiny pieces. I’d think she has better judgment than that, but she let me go so who knows.”
Gave him one of my Cheshire cat grins and changed the topic or so I remember the conversation going.
I forced myself not to dig through any more papers in the box because the purpose was to remove junk and not reminisce.
But it wasn’t easy because I love stories and I love coming across fodder for blog posts and the boxes are filled with ample sources of material.
The Forty Year High School Reunion
It turns out that I have multiple hard copies of the photo above. One of them was in the same box and it got me thinking about my 40th high school reunion.
Technically it is next year but a bunch of my friends are a year older so I have been listening to them talk about theirs.
Got me thinking about the last reunion I went to and I realized that I haven’t been to one since my 10th.
Can’t remember why I didn’t go to 20 but I know I didn’t hit the 30th because I was already in Texas and it conflicted with something else.
Been playing around with whether I want to go 40 or skip it. Been mulling over if there are people I want to reconnect with.
Been thinking about the people that have died, married/divorced and or become grandparents since I hit the one in ’97.
Been thinking about how much life has happened since then and how very different the world is from the one we grew up in.
There is a huge difference between 10 and 40–we’re not kids anymore. Most of us aren’t figuring out who we are and what we want to be when we grow up.
Hell, I know I am not the only one who has been through a near death experience.
I bet there are some big stories floating among the Birmingham Braves class of ’87. Maybe I’ll go and see what they are or maybe not.
What Do You Want To Do With What’s Left Of Your Life?
I still expect to live for another 30 or 40 years. I am very intentional with my workouts now and focused on building functional strength so that I can continue to take care of myself.
But you don’t go through what I did without recognizing that people plan and G-d laughs. I never expected any of what I went through or what I am going through now to happen.
So I spend time thinking about what I want to do with what’s left of my life. I am not here to just pass through it.
I am not here to meander without any purpose or plan.
Nor am I here to mark every minute with a plan I cannot deviate from either.
There is a place in between and there are things I am working on. If we are going to walk the road then we might as well have an idea and some goals.
Whenever I do check out there will be people who notice my absence. Hell, some of the people who have chosen to cut ties notice my absence now just as I notice theirs.
The only question is whether there will be an intersection again. That is part of the joy of life, you think you have an idea of how it will go and who will go through it with you but that idea doesn’t always work out how you think it will.
I have come to find that to be kind of interesting, life is one hell of an adventure. Storm walking is a hell of a rush–I am pretty good at it.
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