Sitting outside listening to the bird’s fuss over squatter's rights, I hear my old buddy the barn owl saying goodnight across the way. Mr. Brown is in the garden picking a few squash, while Boot’s is learning to climb a tree. As for myself, I’m heading back inside, apparently the gnats have won this round. There’s nothing pressing on my mind today. Which means I should keep my mouth shut. Anyway, after pouring the dish water out on the plants, I’m here jabbering on for no particular reason.
While I don’t particularly worry about aging, I often worry about my quality of life. I worry about my wife and oldest son’s future and what kind of legacy I have left for my family. Although I’m pretty sure I’ll be nothing more than a faded memory in a generation or two. It still gives me pause about the legacy we leave others. I am by no means a saint, and neither were my parents. But history often paints a rosier picture then it should.
As I see monuments fall down and history definitely needing a rewrite. We should all bear in mind, no one is perfect. But still the truth should be told, the triumphs celebrated and the injustices learned from. Forgetting the past is allowing it to be reborn. Our lives are often scrutinized and forgotten. But if future generations do not learn from us, that my friend will be a true crime.