Well, I’m outside underneath the sycamores again, with a can of Coke and a Slim Jim. This may not lend itself to a healthy lifestyle. But when your raised around roughnecks, factory workers, and other common folk; old habits die hard. Still, I got a little breeze blowin’ out of the Southwest. It’s hot, but not as sweaty as yesterday. I just took George back home; the construction crew have cleaned up and left. The roof and the trim look good, so hopefully my soon-to-be son-in-law got his money’s worth.
Lisa got herself a proper shower while we were there (remember we don’t have hot water). But considering the temperature is in the mid-90’s, I think I can stand a cold shower when I get home. Besides it beats taking one outside with a garden hose like our neighbor use to do back home… naked. Don’t ask me why I’m bringing up any of this shit, other than to hear myself talk. But history and tales are important to us all. It’s sad to think my grandchildren are growing not hearing one story about their great-grandmothers or grandfather’s.
We’re told to live in the present moment, the here and now, and I totally agree. But without knowing where we come from, what good is blazing a new trail without knowing where you started? I am a broken man no doubt. But without a starting point how do you know where to go? So maybe the point here is, embrace the moment, forgive the past, except your limits, and build from there. While the hair on my arms and my head goes grey, I do my best to accept to except these things. None of us are perfect but remembering who we are and where we come from; often gives us a prospective of peace.
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