The Window

I ran into an old friend the other day. Hadn’t seen “Shorty” long enough for us to jaw at each other for years. When I sold cattle minerals years ago he was a good customer. Shorty is six foot three inches of tough sinew with a mustache that looks like a fox pelt under his nose. A cattleman all his life. We kidded one another about how old we looked and joked that bronc’ breakin was a spectator sport for us now for sure. Neither one of us has ever broke a wild horse and it was certain that as long in the tooth as we are getting, it sure wasn’t going to happen now. We exchanged information about each other ,and then I asked about Bob, his dad.

Shorty leaned his elbow over the hood of his truck and crossed his long legs. He pulled off his leather gloves and stared at the pavement for a second, then under the brim of his hat he said “ we had to put him in a nursing home Kev‘. I hate the place. Dad and I have always felt that nursing homes are just a cattle shute to the graveyard… but he has Alzheimer’s. We kept him on the farm as long as Linda and I could. Some days I think he knows me but, it’s probably wishful thinkin’. He just stares out the window a lot. Truth is, he gets excellent care and we worry less about him wanderin’ off or hurting himself.” Then he abruptly asked “ What do you want out of 2012?”

I told him health and contentment for me and mine I guessed. Shorty two fingered his hat up on his forehead a bit “ You know what I want? I want twelve months of livin.” He went on, “ I don’t just mean like you always put it ‘ vertical and ventilatin’, I mean really livin‘. Dads illness has made me realize that everyday things are what life is really about. A morning sunrise, a newborn calf stumbling to find milk from Momma, the smell of my wife when she crawls into bed at night. I’ve been takin small things for granted as much as breathin in and out. I want to fill my mind with the pictures and sounds of every minute of this life while I can . I know there’ll be good days and bad wired up in the same basket, but I just want to be glad to experience it all.”

I offered that there are two things in life that always demand our attention, problems and realities. Problems are things we may be able to solve, to correct. Realities are things that we can do nothing about. All we can do with reality is adjust how we are going to deal with it; what our attitude will be about it is up to us. “Like the situation with Dad” Shorty said as he turned and looked toward the western sky, “ a reality”.

I told Shorty that his Dad had been a wise man and that I’d bet he had taken in all those pictures and sounds so important to Shorty while his mind was good. And that maybe when he seemed to be just staring off into space, that it was that March calf, getting to his feet for the first time and looking for milk, that he was seeing. Maybe the smell of a branding iron over a bed of coals or the aroma of Linda’s peach pie was lingering with him. Perhaps it was Pearl, Bobs wife, he was seeing young and pretty again, like when they first met. Maybe, if he wasn’t here, it was there with those past joys that he was living now. Maybe it was not an empty stare but the movie of his life, that was before his eyes sometimes..

Shorty looked down, then smiled and winked “ I reckon that’s how I’ll try to see it from now on.” We shook hands. Shorty drove off. I continued on in to the feed store.

Both of us with “things to do, places to go, people to see“. Both bowed and determined to spend the rest of this day …living.