FIFTY FIVE YEARS AGO

                                              

I remember that day as if it was yesterday but in all actuality it was fifty-five years ago. I had spent the night before, packing my meager possessions in a cardboard box because I didn’t own any luggage. Graduation had come and gone and no longer was I a part of that group of young people and that school that we had spent so many years at. In a way I wasn’t even any longer part of the family that raised me. Oh, I could come and visit but someone else would now have my spot at the table. My father had told me it was time to leave and grow up. Fleeting memories of the school sports events, the high school dances and days in those busy classrooms together.  It was all a confusing memory, flashing in my head like strobe lights, on and off. We were like young birds leaving the nest, going in four different directions, destined for whatever was waiting for us in that scary world out there. The evening before this early morning, I had walked back over to the school one last time and looked at the darkened classrooms and peeked through the chained doors. The empty hallways gave off an eerie aura that gave me a chill. Yes, it was time to say goodbye.

I left my parent’s house the next morning sneaking out early so as not to have to say any tearful goodbyes to my parents and siblings. I walked down the dirt driveway from our house heading for the bus station full of mixed feelings. Optimism for my life ahead and sadness for leaving the only way of life I had ever known. I heard a noise and turning around I saw my stepmother standing on the top step holding her housecoat tight to her bosom in the early morning cold. “Don’t forget us”, she said, a sob choking her voice. For a second I wanted to run back and hug her but I knew I would cry and I didn’t want that. I was a young man now and it was time to grow up and just say goodbye. I waved and blew her a kiss and continued walking away.

So much has happened since then. Falling in love and taking a wife and being blessed with three children. Forty some years of working and bringing home the bacon, three houses and countless friends and neighbors. I remember watching our children grow up and then them going out into the world, much the same way I did and praying softly that God would help them find their way, much as I had. Then at last turning to her and saying, “Now it’s our turn my love.”

Ten wonderful years together, at the lake place we had built, shoulder to shoulder, fulfilling another dream we shared, A place where everyday was Saturday and those kids we had pinned our hopes on, would come with those wonderful grandkids we couldn’t get enough of.  In the words of the song maker. “We had joy we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.” So many great days on the lake fishing and playing--- but then gradually it all changed. The grandkids too grew up and took partners and had busy lives of their own. Our kids were going so many different ways with careers and their families and from time to time we would steal a few hours together but the frequency seemed to ebb and flow, less and less each year. Then it came time for her to leave me and life, as I knew it came crashing down.

I have tried to rejuvenate my life.  I met a very special lady and we sneak in as much happiness as old friends can and do. We enjoy a few giggles and travels together and were making a new story, however, neither one of us can or will forget our pasts.