An Epistle
How Long Is a Lifetime? - © Kent Fletcher
December 14, 2006
How long is a lifetime, or just a half a lifetime? Well, for instance, I'm a young 60 years of age, actually I'm really only 59, according to the Social Security Administration, but that's another subject, really confusing, kind of like attempting to figure out... nah, forget it, it wouldn't make sense to anyone but a drilling reservist, anyway. So I'm 60/59, and 31 years ago today, half of my lifetime, I took a leap of faith and got married, only to have the platform I landed on crash and burn on my birthday some 11 years later. A little over a half a lifetime has passed since that fateful day. Cool!
Now some folks call me lazy, and others call me crazy for not remarrying. Oh, I've had some nice young ladies who I was totally taken with, but for whatever reasons - Navy transfers, non-moveable problems, stuff like that-there - I never have. Some days I regret it, most days I don't. It's so much easier for me to just live with myself than to run willy-nilly around the country, searching for that one true love. I know this is going to upset one or two people, but I'm only passing along my own inner feelings. I hope you understand. It's kinda like the writing about living in Texas, now, and how it's my home, away from home.
Back to the story. Lazy, or crazy, but unlike that one-time popular song, once-burned was one time too many for my fragile soul at the time. As much as I really wanted to be in a solid relationship, every time I started getting too close, claustrophobia set in, and I would walk away. I would dare say even now, I would still walk away. I've been single for over 19 years, about a third of my lifetime, and it's kinda hard to accept someone of the fairer sex into my life. I've got my animals whom I dote on, and who don't give me too much trouble, other than those stares that break my heart when I have to leave them at home. Oh, but the joy beheld when I return. It is worth it, for sure.
On another short tangent, December 14 is also the birthday of a dear friend of mine. Strange as it is, I really don't think about that marriage date any more, but I do remember her birthday with regularity. Instead of calling her on her birthday, though, I call the day before because she and her sister and usually one or two of her girlfriends are off and running for the day, a girls-day-out. She told me last night they were off to Nag's Head for lunch and shopping today. She has another year to go before the big 6-0 rolls around, so she better enjoy it while she can. Happy Birthday, Bonnie!
Some other events which are on my mind from time-to-time include my father's death on the Sunday before Thanksgiving in 1965. 41 years ago, two-thirds of my lifetime, and I can still tell you exactly the chain of events from three days prior to his passing. The only time I really think about it is during this holiday season, and then only briefly. I've reconciled my differences with his spirit, May He Rest In Peace.
My mother passed on in October 1984. I remember the event well, of course, but I can never nail down the exact date, or day. That was 22 years ago, a third of my lifetime. And I miss her and her counsel to this day. May She Rest In Peace.
I've lost other family members, and several four-legged family members. It seems the older I get, the more losses I have, and yet while it does bother me, I know it's a fact of life. Just like Dr. Wilson was asked in a class at Delta State why are events always, or most always expressed in fractions or percentages. He turned the question around and pointedly asked me, "Mr. Fletcher, what is the probably you are going to die?" Of course, that satisfied the other student, and me, too, for it was something I knew, but had never really thought about.
Every now and again, I run across a silly statement that goes something like this: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, double espresso in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "WOW what a ride!"
Half a lifetime for some of the events in my life. Perhaps I've only lived a half-lifetime at age 60/59. That is not for me to know, but to accept when it does come. I really won't have a choice in the matter, will I?
December 14, 2006
How long is a lifetime, or just a half a lifetime? Well, for instance, I'm a young 60 years of age, actually I'm really only 59, according to the Social Security Administration, but that's another subject, really confusing, kind of like attempting to figure out... nah, forget it, it wouldn't make sense to anyone but a drilling reservist, anyway. So I'm 60/59, and 31 years ago today, half of my lifetime, I took a leap of faith and got married, only to have the platform I landed on crash and burn on my birthday some 11 years later. A little over a half a lifetime has passed since that fateful day. Cool!
Now some folks call me lazy, and others call me crazy for not remarrying. Oh, I've had some nice young ladies who I was totally taken with, but for whatever reasons - Navy transfers, non-moveable problems, stuff like that-there - I never have. Some days I regret it, most days I don't. It's so much easier for me to just live with myself than to run willy-nilly around the country, searching for that one true love. I know this is going to upset one or two people, but I'm only passing along my own inner feelings. I hope you understand. It's kinda like the writing about living in Texas, now, and how it's my home, away from home.
Back to the story. Lazy, or crazy, but unlike that one-time popular song, once-burned was one time too many for my fragile soul at the time. As much as I really wanted to be in a solid relationship, every time I started getting too close, claustrophobia set in, and I would walk away. I would dare say even now, I would still walk away. I've been single for over 19 years, about a third of my lifetime, and it's kinda hard to accept someone of the fairer sex into my life. I've got my animals whom I dote on, and who don't give me too much trouble, other than those stares that break my heart when I have to leave them at home. Oh, but the joy beheld when I return. It is worth it, for sure.
On another short tangent, December 14 is also the birthday of a dear friend of mine. Strange as it is, I really don't think about that marriage date any more, but I do remember her birthday with regularity. Instead of calling her on her birthday, though, I call the day before because she and her sister and usually one or two of her girlfriends are off and running for the day, a girls-day-out. She told me last night they were off to Nag's Head for lunch and shopping today. She has another year to go before the big 6-0 rolls around, so she better enjoy it while she can. Happy Birthday, Bonnie!
Some other events which are on my mind from time-to-time include my father's death on the Sunday before Thanksgiving in 1965. 41 years ago, two-thirds of my lifetime, and I can still tell you exactly the chain of events from three days prior to his passing. The only time I really think about it is during this holiday season, and then only briefly. I've reconciled my differences with his spirit, May He Rest In Peace.
My mother passed on in October 1984. I remember the event well, of course, but I can never nail down the exact date, or day. That was 22 years ago, a third of my lifetime. And I miss her and her counsel to this day. May She Rest In Peace.
I've lost other family members, and several four-legged family members. It seems the older I get, the more losses I have, and yet while it does bother me, I know it's a fact of life. Just like Dr. Wilson was asked in a class at Delta State why are events always, or most always expressed in fractions or percentages. He turned the question around and pointedly asked me, "Mr. Fletcher, what is the probably you are going to die?" Of course, that satisfied the other student, and me, too, for it was something I knew, but had never really thought about.
Every now and again, I run across a silly statement that goes something like this: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, double espresso in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "WOW what a ride!"
Half a lifetime for some of the events in my life. Perhaps I've only lived a half-lifetime at age 60/59. That is not for me to know, but to accept when it does come. I really won't have a choice in the matter, will I?
posted by Fletch @ 5:56 PM
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