T I M E

Time seems to be a man-made concept created to give our lives some sort of logical order. Our existence in this time-like environment is similar to a blip on a radar screen, but a glorious one, at that. I have thought a great deal about time this past year. Too many deaths; some expected and some sudden. Most passings are of the older crowd, but a few are far too young to have occurred, but they did.

This is not a morbid post even though I speak of death. No pun intended, but death is a fact of this life. What we accomplish and who we become, between birth and death, is deemed by many as a way to define us. We may become financially successful, intellectually and/or academically prominent, creative beyond our wildest imaginations, philanthropic to an excess we can’t comprehend, athletically superb, or simply average (as are most of us). But what of our very essence; the most significant aspect of who and what we really are – our souls?

Today is my dad’s birthday. He would have been one hundred years old had he lived past his sixtieth birthday. I was a young man when he died. I have outlived him in years, yet memories abound even though I spent less than a third of my time with dad while he was alive. Time…what does it really mean?

Recently, I watched a documentary called Blue Zones which is about Centenarians. The researcher identified half a dozen areas around the world where the populations lived well past their mid-nineties and had above average health. It was insightful to learn what dynamics shaped their longevity and good quality of life, and I came away realizing that I can put into practice much of what I learned. However, my goal is quality over longevity, but to have both could be a bonus.

Several songs about Time have been playing in my head: Time by Pink Floyd is probably the most notable song about this concept. Jim Croce’s Time in a Bottle is beautiful. Another rock song is Fly Like and Eagle by The Steve Miller band where Steve sings about time slipping away. Then, there is this Alan Jackson song which melts my heart when I hear it, and as I sing along with Alan, who wrote it. Rather than sing it, I chose to list the lyrics below. I hope it causes you to reconsider Time. Enjoy!

Remember when I was young and so were you. And time stood still and love was all we knew. You were the first, so was I. We made love and then you cried. Remember when.

Remember when we vowed the vows and walked the walk. Gave our hearts, made the start and it was hard. We lived and learned, life threw curves. There was joy, there was hurt. Remember when.

Remember when old ones died and new were born. And life was changed, disassembled, rearranged. We came together, fell apart, and broke each other’s hearts. Remember when.

Remember when the sound of little feet was the music we danced to week to week. Brought back the love, we found trust. Vowed we’d never give it up. Remember when.

Remember when thirty seemed so old. Now lookin’ back, it’s just a steppin’ stone. To where we are, where we’ve been. Said we’d do it all again. Remember when.

Remember when we said when we turned gray. When the children grow up and move away. We won’t be sad, we’ll be glad. For all the life we’ve had. And we’ll remember when.

For Cheryl

Yesterday

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday”. The Beatles

I found out yesterday that my best childhood friend died last week. Bob and I were mates from elementary grades through high school, and a bit beyond. He was my best man in our wedding and a good friend to Cheryl, too. We haven’t been in personal contact for years, but he is indelibly etched in my fondest remembrances. Writing this piece creates a few tears as I realize that I cannot reach him again as was our plan for next year.

I ask myself, “Do I miss Bob that much or is it the memories I miss so desperately?”. Both, I conclude, because he and they are intricately tied together. My childhood and coming-of-age years are a mixed-bag so-to-speak. They were some of the most wonderful days of my life. If you’re like me and led a somewhat ‘normal’ life, they conjure up a potpourri of feelings ranging from extreme exuberance to numbing insecurity. Some of the mischief Bob and I got into was just plain craziness, and surprisingly we survived.

No matter, as those days are behind us. However, my association with Bob did positively contribute to my becoming a more responsible person (however one wants to describe this attribute). Although I literally missed decades of spending time with my friend, I believe his integrity and easy-going attitude, honed while still young, helped me navigate a particular dysfunctional period of my youth.

Lewis Carroll once quipped, “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then”. I have pondered this statement and am still trying to discern if I agree with it. But what I do know is that life’s experiences affect us in countless ways. There are no “Do Overs” and dwelling on regrets doesn’t benefit anyone. Fortunately, I do believe in the positive power of “Fresh Starts”.

Regardless of where one may land while contemplating Lewis’ point-of-view, there seems to be something wonderful about ‘living in the moment’. As Carly Simon famously sang, “These are the good old days”. Let’s hope so, anyway.

B A R K

Bark.

Not the sound dogs nor people make, but the type of thing that protects the living part of trees and certain plants from harm.

There is rough bark, smooth bark, serrated bark, peeling bark, multi-colored bark, black bark, white bark, wavy bark, thick bark, thin bark, edible bark, tough-as-nails bark, prickly bark, paper bark, fire-resistant bark, and even twisted bark.

The beauty of bark is simply this-it protects. It can be quite enjoyable to view and to touch.

Bark reminds me of the way we humans try to protect ourselves. Some of us reveal a tough outer texture while others display a thin veneer. Doesn’t matter whether the bark becomes more brittle with age or is supple when younger. Bark is bark. Sometimes our bark is very pleasant to look at and enjoyable to spend time near. Some bark is simply painful to be around and is unattractive. Either way, bark is bark.

What lies beyond the bark is what matters most. Take a tree for example. Just beneath the visible outer bark is a layer called the phloem or inner bark. Beneath it is the cambium and behind it, the sapwood (live xylem), then the heartwood (dead xylem), and finally at the very center is the pith (medulla). Without writing a biological thesis about the genetic makeup of a tree, I simply wish to state that each layer performs a vital function in order for the tree to develop and thrive over time. Much like our bodies do.

As a tree naturally ages and begins to die, the various parts (layers) of the trunk and branches change. As I study a transverse slice of a tree trunk and look at the growth rings and various layers decribed above, I focus on the very center, the core. The once fibrous medulla becomes brittle as it ages, often changes color, and sometimes desinigrates completely over time. The tree rots if left on the ground. Upon death the human body starts the same process of decomposition. Eventually, even our bones turn to ashes. However, the similarity of trees and humans ends at this point. The tree morphs into soil from from whence it came.

The human soul lives on, but not in the earth. Depending on one’s spiritual perspective, our souls may journey to a place called Heaven, turn into angelic beings, reincarnate or be transformed into a variety of possibilities. My belief as a Christian is in the resurrection of the soul. As the Apostle Paul stated, “We know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens”. For me, and many others, death will be an instantaneous moment of eternal bliss, even though those left behind may suffer the loss of a loved one. Dear friends of ours recently lost their daughter to cancer. She left behind three children and a husband, sister and parents. For this family, they believe in the promise that one day they will be reunited again in a glorious reunion. I hold to the same promise. I hope you do, too.

Black & White

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Saw a Westie last night at a local Friday Night uptown event supported by the city,  retailers, restaurants and musicians-all converging together. Cheryl and I petted a West Highland Terrier who was passing by. He was of the same large build and cut as our Carson, except he was wire-haired whereas Carson was a silky haired canine.

Brought back a plethora of memories…all good at the time. It was fun to watch the owner and his beloved dog walk off together after a visit with both!

There are not too many things in this life that are black & white. After birth, death is the only For Sure thing I can think of. Yes, some say taxes, too, but there are far too many tax evaders to qualify this word as a viable “must” in the list of unavoidables (new word!). I could list a plethora of other items which could qualify as For Sure Things in life such as hardship, blessings, mishaps, injustices, joy, diseases, financial crisis’, etc., etc..

This photo represents my black shadow and Carson’s white body. Carson is gone from this earthly existence and I, too, will be gone someday. There seems to be a lot of gray in between and around us…this represents our lives which are a mix of good and bad, happy and sad, regret and contentment.

Regardless of skin color, ethnicity, locale, history, theology, tradition or a bunch of other vital things to consider, the most important thing is our eternal destiny. Recall, we all will die. This is not meant to be morbid. On the contrary, this is meant to be a wake-up call of sorts as to what we accomplish in this life…not a “to do” list, but an “I am” list.

You know my spiritual underpinnings if you read my profile. I am not going to preach. I simply would like for each reader of this post to seriously consider what is next after this life we now live. It seems to me it is rather Black & White.

Blessings to all !

Abstract

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My father-in-law for forty-two years died Wednesday after a seven year battle with Alzheimer’s; that dreaded disease of the brain which also kills the body. Ugly.

Cheryl and I remarked that we are now the oldest generation within our immediate families…all of our parents and grand parents are gone. Strange feeling.

So many memories and situations. Not all were terrific, but the majority were good. Charlie always treated me with respect and with generosity. I am grateful.

Life goes on, but I feel like this abstract painting I photographed-it is full of mystic and interpretation, but leaves one wondering. I wonder about so many things.

Rest in peace, Charlie. Rest in peace. This is your time of reunion.

 

Opportunist

5-10-14 001As a photographer, one has to be ready at a moment’s instance to capture something strikingly beautiful or unusual…or, in this case, something that is an everyday occurrence, but most never witness. In a nut shell, photographers are opportunists. With this in mind, I present a bird of prey that was an opportunist on Saturday morning. While at Loose Park, one of Kansas City’s jewels, Cheryl and I strolled through the rose garden. It is still a bit early for roses, but something else caught our eyes and lenses. A red-tailed hawk catching his breakfast! I must apologize for the blur in these photos due to being startled by what was taking place, but I wanted to share them anyway simply because nature is so awesome. It happened so fast that the entire episode lasted mere seconds. The eating of the prey took all of five minutes. All photos are unedited.5-10-14 002The prey was spotted and the predator took off….5-10-14 004Bringing back his reward…5-10-14 007And, preparing to dine on the same perch he catapulted from only a few seconds ago. Some call this dynamic the circle of life. Perhaps it is…life for some and death for others. It is the way of this world we live in. One day, there will be no more death. What a glorious time that will be!