Spending Time Wisely... Pondering Identity, Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Spending Time Wisely...  Pondering Identity,

                    Sometimes Our Own, Sometimes that of Others!

Deep in the mists of geezerhood, with all of its obscurity, challenges, wonders and expectations -- ever Closer to surrendering the Illusion of Immortality -- in an effort to escape the clutter and cluster of urban smog and dust-scape, we tend to wander...  Where?  Somewhere!  Anywhere...  perhaps north, sometimes in other directions?!

At the beginning of a recent such brief odyssey, we were delighted to spy two BlueJays, each a buzz of glorious color.  As if the pair -- blurred but unable to conceal themselves entirely -- were speed painting their 

primary hues, spreading then onto the contrasting green of flora, some of it incipient, some in the full explosion of spring beauty and color!  

Heading south toward the river, SweetHeart and I were attempting to discover the oddly narrow stream of what we believed to be a tail of the river and how it joined its larger body.  In the end, thwarted by a power pole and impassible shrubbery, we were compelled to cross to the other side.  To no avail, we could not bend our vision to follow its path and the probable junction of a small thread to a larger skein! 

Having crossed, we found ourselves on a flag-bedecked vision of various contours of field and meadow, a greensward, bordered by vestigial woodlands, still spare, just budding in the nascent burst of early springtime.   

In the clubhouse on that purposely limited expanse of greenery, on which a number of combatants were attempting to strike dimpled white spheres, we donated one such found object to a surprised and grateful young woman about to participate in that very same campaign.  So many of them!   Swinging, striking, missing!  Possibly cursing!  What has happened, I wondered, to American productivity.  "Doesn't anyone work anymore?" Perhaps owing to fear and frustration, a feeling of ennui and hopelessness, the absurdities and lunacy of a political landscape populated by feckless buffoons whose aims and language many fail to fathom, perhaps never will!

Never mind all that.  We move on!  I suppose some would question our own dedication to the betterment of the nation's economic health.  We are old, yes, but we continue to work as much as we're able.  Being older, or historic, as our grandson describes us, we sometimes seize moments when industry fails to beckon, and thus we wander.  Our attempts to find joy in simple pursuits, to spend time in peaceful reflection, visions of wings, the undulating and constant movement of water, gorgeous vistas of green, purple, pink, lavender, sepia, emerald and sage!  Dazzled often by its variety, complexity, beauty and memory!  

Our wanderings do take us, or perhaps lead us inexorably, to destinations comprised of those aforementioned joys, miracles and colors, where ospreys soar and dive and capture

river fish with which to feed their young and themselves.  Until late summer when offspring begin to fledge, testing courage and wing strength, ability and that ancient, instinctively-rediscovered route to winter feeding grounds far to the South. 

We often wish that our forte, our primary bread-winning focus, were educative travel, leading followers to distant shores, exotic cities and towns, to far-away places, fascinating ideas, customs and faces!  (The word "forte" -- by the by -- contains a Silent "E" and is pronounced "Fort," and means one's strength, one's matier, one's principal gift or talent, one's "Thing," so to speak!)

Alas, at least for now, we wander in limited scope and distance, but we can and do dream of greater escapes.  Well, to be honest and accurate, we've both traveled somewhat

extensively, in our distant past -- to France, Spain, Morocco, Italy, Estonia, Turkey, Mexico, Canada, England, Finland -- and to many destinations in our own country.  Mustn't grumble, but still we long to wander further afield, and oftener!  

Meanwhile, we have our Great Lake, the Confluence of Three Rivers, our namesake river and other bodies of water in which big ships plow their way to ports and harbors and depositories.  Many offloading their goods and their essential cargoes from great, cavernous holds, or collecting commodities to ferry to other faraway places, ports and harbors, many great vessels with self-discharging structures aboard, destined for as many ports with enormous collection canyons and conveying contrivances on their shores!

As we steer our course toward oblivion, or a pleasant terminus in the realm of wander, I suppose we do at times tend to consider our own identities.  Who are we, what is our aim or purpose in life?  Do we continuously ponder our identities, what we're intended to do or be.  Our friend, Bill, cares deeply about such inponderables.  We, on the other hand, do not, or usually we do not.  We do, however, care about how to spend our time enjoyably and profitably, meaning profitable in terms of happy enterprise.  And we will, I hope, continue to do so when time and tide enable us to wander leisurely, even aimlessly, through the often bewildering mists of GeezerHood!  

(Special Note of Dedication:   For SweetHeart and all of our good chums and relatives who have been elevated to the status and the state of Wisdom!  I note that aristocrats speak of being "Elevated to the Purple," that is, achieving a position of royalty.  Those of us not of the peerage or royal lineage achieve veneration through the process of aging gracefully, and should therefore be accorded great respect and admiration...  possibly purple garments too!)  

Humbly submitted 05-13-25 -- Joel K.

  

  

 

    

       

 

Loss... The Wounded Heart!

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Loss...  The Wounded Heart!

It is of course inevitable, if sadly so, damn!  We're not designed for permanence.  We are not rocks or water or earth...   or carbon, perhaps?  Doesn't matter.  In the hazy milieu

of GeezerHood, we experience the loss of those we love and cherish!  It's a rotten business!  We usually don't care to think of it, or dwell on it, or wallow in misery as if figuratively, morosely standing at the "terminal bus stop," pondering the inexorable end of life!    

Most recently, our dear friend, Susie, drifted away after 15 months of illness, much of it in agony and suffering, but through all of it she exhibited extraordinary courage and strength.  In much of that time her attitude was laced with remarkable optimism, even hope, a quality her family and friends shared with prayer and bold attempts at a kind of sanguine bouyancy, a hopeful positivism, even cheerfulness, if a bit naive, knowing in our hearts that nothing could save her.  

The chemo and drugs and therapy did little to mitigate the experience, while it devoured her time and her energy.  She was far too good, loving and generous to have been

That's her with her friend, or
was it her pet...  bald eagle!  Such a good
time, one of many travel adventures!

subjected to an end of life so damned undeserved.  Her family and friends benefitted enormously from her kindness, emotional strength and loving spirit.  She was a treasure among those of us who could never hope to compare!

**************************************

In early August of last year, 2024, my brother, Kris, succumbed to enough cancer to spread among those far less important and valued, far less valuable to the human species.  He was another treasure, with a tremendous degree of talent and skill and loving generosity.  His gifts endure and will long be remembered and cherished by everyone who knew him and were lucky enough to bask in the remarkable force and richness of his personality.

My sister's first-born of three sons died recently, nearly a continent away from his home in California.  Too young!  We weren't close, emotionally or physically.  He was a good man; he looked after his grandfather, my father, during the latter's long hospice care.  My nephew did so with love and generous kindness, temporarily minimizing  his own academic and other more desirable, personal pursuits, the kind that would normally occupy the minds and physical activities of most vital young men.   

That's him with Bride, Jaynie.  
It's an old picture, 1965
probably!  

I guess the point is, loss and death are crap!!  I know, I know...  No one, not one of us escapes.  We're all doomed.  Our only hope is that we can endure long enough to spread some light, benefit our families and our best chums, our colleagues and comrades!  

I'm told there's such a thing as a peaceful passing, one that is not that sort of lethal dagger such as cancer and other horrific diseases, the kind that linger...  I've known a couple, maybe a few, who died peacefully in sleep!  Too bad we can't all book in advance such a ticket to the inevitable grave! 

The eminent psychiatrist / philosopher, Carl Jung once said, or wrote, "Life behaves as if it were going on (forever)..."  We all seem to harbor the illusion of immortality, suggested often in literature, including one of the writings of Jean Paul Sartre.  The protagonist in one of the author's tales "surrenders that illusion..." and, his death sentence delayed, possibly reversed (I can't readily recall...), feels he is or may as well be dead, having given up, surrendered to it, admitting dully that nothing mattered any longer.  

I don't know why the hell those bits of existential musings come to mind...   Perhaps I'm  getting a bit maudlin!  I didn't mean to dwell on that topic, as in, where the hell did that come from...!  Apologies...        

****************************************************************************

It seems a bit strange, maybe a little wrong, to introduce a topic that is perhaps an inappropriate digression...  not nearly as heart wrenching or sad, but loss nonetheless...   The subject is relocation...    Moving!  In summer of last year, we sold our house of something in the neighborhood of 28, approaching, maybe, 30 years, and moved west from our east side Milwaukee home to a large suburb.  We loved living east, near the city's vibrant downtown area, near the big lake.  

It was a difficult move, physically, of course, but emotionally as well, but one we regarded as timely and necessary.  Many can  

The old house!

and will empathize, I'm certain.  Getting rid of years of "stuff" is also a tricky and difficult undertaking.  For some, sentiment presents a major obstacle.  For others a pleasing relief to be rid of the often useless and unwanted clutter accumulated over the space of so many years.  I hoarded several old telephone books, for example, often a subject of ridicule!  (You know...   important numbers circled and saved in case of need!)  

Well, gosh -- realizing I should put an end to this morose business -- everything we value is eventually lost when we finally meet, in the words of the incomparable W.C. Fields, "The Fellow in the Bright Nightgown."  Meantime, for those of us still standing, we are best advised to savor the joys of life and its many adventures, its good, and bad times too, thankful for all we have, particularly for its real and enduring diamonds, namely, our loving family members and our cherished good friends!  

So long Susie, Kris and Keith.  We loved you!  We'll miss all of you terribly.  We hope, if those with religion and spiritualism in their hearts are right, you're in a better place, waiting for the rest of us to arrive, all of us bathed in the bright auras of joyful rebirth!! 

(Humbly Submitted 02-28-2025...  by Joel K.)