Lovely. I hope that one day, when you are old - hopefully you won't need to a care facility in many many years - but when the time comes, I pray that someone might pick up the phone when you call. that someone might visit when you feel alone. that someone might be there when the tree of life gets old and britle.
Just dropping by to say that although I don’t comment very often, I still look forward to reading your weekly musings. Thank you for being a reliable and stable root system in a year prone to upheaval. All the best to you and yours in the new year.
Your story resonates John, but it’s hard to articulate the complexity of that feeling. It’s acceptance of changing circumstances, it’s consistency, resilience, independence, respect, persistence, and it’s the retelling of the stories and the importance of that. The stories of the past only survive through and by the retelling. In our small rural communities many people are remembered and respected decades after passing, through the retelling of stories. Even sometimes as simple as calling a block of farming land by the name of the pioneering family who opened it up. Stories our parents and grandparents told us put these names into context and we keep them real by us retelling those stories to our children. It’s our responsibility. The way we farm and live is only possible by the legacy of their sheer determination and hard work against all the odds to open up this farming land. Their hard work and effort stands like your garden statue in lots of quiet corners across our landscape not demanding or needing or acknowledgement, but rather reminding us to be so grateful and respectful of those that went before us, but most importantly we just need to take the time to look carefully to find and remember them.
Beautifully expressed, Alan, thank you. Your words and mention of farming call up a favorite author of mine, James Rebanks. If you have not read him, check out "Pastoral Song" and "The Place of Tides." Not only is he a farmer and splendid writer, but he shares your reverence for those who came before us and the importance of their stories.
Thanks, Bernita. Let us soldier on in this life, despite the vagaries of aging and disappointments along the way. Because tomorrow's sunset will surely be lovely, and one never knows what unexpected delights may land in our midst.
You have written something that shows how to be kind and use memories to restore some happiness and meaning to a life when there is loss and sadness. Spending our final days in a care facility is a fear we of a certain age live with. Thank you, John.
Jean-My mother spent the last few years of her life in an assisted living facility. My father invested in an excellent long-term care plan so she was able to afford excellent care. But many are unable and languish in less than ideal situations. I sometimes think the agrarian economy of the past, where entire generations lived and died on the farm, was a better model. Grandparents too old to work the land stayed at home to cook, clean, and help watch and teach the kids. The kids benefitted from their wisdom, and got to see the entire landscape of life, from births to deaths. The family was all together. We don't have that much anymore and it's a shame.
Yes, I agree with you, John. My family has experienced both--excellent assisted living facilities, for which we were fortunate to have the financial means, and great-grandparents staying at home until they died. I will follow my aunt's example. She researched assisted living facilities, so that when the need arose, she was in a facility she chose. I don't know what the future will bring for me. I don't want to be a burden to my children. I will strive to stay independent. My mother was treated for cancer, until it was evident it was time to let go. She died at home with support from hospice such as your beautiful wife provides. She said to us kids, "We showed you how to live, now we will show you how to die." It made an impression on me.
Your mother sounds like she was strong and grounded. I bought long term care for my wife and I years ago. A mid-level plan, as that was all I could afford on an honest cop’s salary. Hope we don’t need it, that we get to age gracefully and then when our adventure here is done, we can slip away in slumberland.
I think most people would prefer to age at home and slip away there as opposed to a care facility. Although I have been in some care homes that held music and laughter and provided companionship and value for their residents. Thanks for your comment, Virginia.
Thank you, John! As I am conscious that I now have fewer years ahead than I have behind me, my thoughts about expressing my love and asking for forgiveness increase in number. My hope for everyone as we move into 2026 is that we give and receive kindness from others in ever-increasing frequency. You are doing this for me with your creative and thoughtful writing!
Thank you, Randy. I’m in the same boat, more years behind than ahead. But that’s okay, I feel blessed and fortunate. And amen to kindness in 2026 and beyond. You do your part as a fine educator, helping the young along their way, and I scribble with the hope that words can uplift and inspire. Here’s to a great 2026 🙂
wow.... this is so good... so melancholy.... a snapshot of time... that can pull so much emotion .... Christmas ... end of Life.... either one.... standing alone or together .. can be an emotional rollercoaster ....like that wind.... and the standing angel...
..... storms are hammering the west coast.... seeing major flooding... heavy snow...people stuck on passes for days.... how is it effecting your area ?
Thanks Brenda. Here in Nevada it was only an evening of strong gusts and a little rain, and then it went away. Unfortunately, folks in Washington and parts of California were not as lucky.
Loved this, John: “And so when the time comes, when we return to whatever it is we came from, perhaps something of us still stands. Not in grand monuments or remembered achievements, but in a simpler radiance. A warmth others feel without quite knowing why. Like a stone figure in a garden that has weathered many storms and still offers a sense of calm to those who pass by.”
My son has a lovely lady in his life. She's his mother-in-law, who recently lost her 93 yr old husband. She was hoping for several more years to pursue her own interests, after standing by her man, and raising five children and several grandchildren along the way. Sadly, she's just been handed an inoperable stage 4 cancer diagnosis, running rampant in her body, and is in hospice care. And yet... she has a serene calm and acceptance of what is, and cannot be changed. Your statue in the garden reminds me of her. I just might show her your video when I see her later today. I, too, love and admire her her.
Angela-Sorry to read this, of the disease afflicting your son's mother-in-law. Although it doesn't surprise me, how loss of a spouse can summon disease. Coincidental timing?. Or maybe when we've loved someone for a long time and lose that person, something in us unravels. We're tethered in a divine way to our loved one, and when they cross over the veil, perhaps that tether tugs at our soul. And so the body gives in, and we let go, and serenity and calm wash over us.
Thanks, Julie. I try my best to listen and care and share it all in my work. Like everyone else, some days I succeed more than others. Thanks for reading.
Thank you for your weekly words of wisdom on how to live a more meaningful life in loving others and all that is around us. Sent you a donation to say thank you and to let you know that your words and work is greatly appreciated. Have a blessed new year.
We've seen old and death recently and it was not easy. Your good consoling words and lady Caprice images are true gems - good reminders of things to remember and do whilst we stare at the clock that just keep ticking away.
God bless you for sharing such precious wisdoms, and the rest of us while we all learn and endure...happy new year to all.
Aging and death, those unwelcome dance partners who eventually tap on our shoulder. But then there is life, love, sunsets, coffee, animals, passions, and the entire constellation of memories we hold dear. And those memories are like roses in winter, softening our fear as we "shuffle off our mortal coil." Wishing you all the best, Najeeb.
Lovely. I hope that one day, when you are old - hopefully you won't need to a care facility in many many years - but when the time comes, I pray that someone might pick up the phone when you call. that someone might visit when you feel alone. that someone might be there when the tree of life gets old and britle.
I hope so, too, Ingrid. For us both. Thanks for reading.
Just dropping by to say that although I don’t comment very often, I still look forward to reading your weekly musings. Thank you for being a reliable and stable root system in a year prone to upheaval. All the best to you and yours in the new year.
Thank you, Jarrod, for the kind words. Happy New Year to you, too.
Your story resonates John, but it’s hard to articulate the complexity of that feeling. It’s acceptance of changing circumstances, it’s consistency, resilience, independence, respect, persistence, and it’s the retelling of the stories and the importance of that. The stories of the past only survive through and by the retelling. In our small rural communities many people are remembered and respected decades after passing, through the retelling of stories. Even sometimes as simple as calling a block of farming land by the name of the pioneering family who opened it up. Stories our parents and grandparents told us put these names into context and we keep them real by us retelling those stories to our children. It’s our responsibility. The way we farm and live is only possible by the legacy of their sheer determination and hard work against all the odds to open up this farming land. Their hard work and effort stands like your garden statue in lots of quiet corners across our landscape not demanding or needing or acknowledgement, but rather reminding us to be so grateful and respectful of those that went before us, but most importantly we just need to take the time to look carefully to find and remember them.
Beautifully expressed, Alan, thank you. Your words and mention of farming call up a favorite author of mine, James Rebanks. If you have not read him, check out "Pastoral Song" and "The Place of Tides." Not only is he a farmer and splendid writer, but he shares your reverence for those who came before us and the importance of their stories.
As we age, many of us find ourselves relating to this story. I will have to read this again to pick out all of the hidden nuggets. Thank you!
Thanks, Bernita. Let us soldier on in this life, despite the vagaries of aging and disappointments along the way. Because tomorrow's sunset will surely be lovely, and one never knows what unexpected delights may land in our midst.
You have written something that shows how to be kind and use memories to restore some happiness and meaning to a life when there is loss and sadness. Spending our final days in a care facility is a fear we of a certain age live with. Thank you, John.
Jean-My mother spent the last few years of her life in an assisted living facility. My father invested in an excellent long-term care plan so she was able to afford excellent care. But many are unable and languish in less than ideal situations. I sometimes think the agrarian economy of the past, where entire generations lived and died on the farm, was a better model. Grandparents too old to work the land stayed at home to cook, clean, and help watch and teach the kids. The kids benefitted from their wisdom, and got to see the entire landscape of life, from births to deaths. The family was all together. We don't have that much anymore and it's a shame.
Yes, I agree with you, John. My family has experienced both--excellent assisted living facilities, for which we were fortunate to have the financial means, and great-grandparents staying at home until they died. I will follow my aunt's example. She researched assisted living facilities, so that when the need arose, she was in a facility she chose. I don't know what the future will bring for me. I don't want to be a burden to my children. I will strive to stay independent. My mother was treated for cancer, until it was evident it was time to let go. She died at home with support from hospice such as your beautiful wife provides. She said to us kids, "We showed you how to live, now we will show you how to die." It made an impression on me.
Your mother sounds like she was strong and grounded. I bought long term care for my wife and I years ago. A mid-level plan, as that was all I could afford on an honest cop’s salary. Hope we don’t need it, that we get to age gracefully and then when our adventure here is done, we can slip away in slumberland.
This is a beautiful and poignant reminder. Thank you for writing it.
You're welcome, Carol, thanks for reading.
Beautiful though sad. I will try to draw courage from what you have said. Perhaps I will be gone before the care home days arrive.
I think most people would prefer to age at home and slip away there as opposed to a care facility. Although I have been in some care homes that held music and laughter and provided companionship and value for their residents. Thanks for your comment, Virginia.
UMMM!
Thank you, John! As I am conscious that I now have fewer years ahead than I have behind me, my thoughts about expressing my love and asking for forgiveness increase in number. My hope for everyone as we move into 2026 is that we give and receive kindness from others in ever-increasing frequency. You are doing this for me with your creative and thoughtful writing!
Thank you, Randy. I’m in the same boat, more years behind than ahead. But that’s okay, I feel blessed and fortunate. And amen to kindness in 2026 and beyond. You do your part as a fine educator, helping the young along their way, and I scribble with the hope that words can uplift and inspire. Here’s to a great 2026 🙂
wow.... this is so good... so melancholy.... a snapshot of time... that can pull so much emotion .... Christmas ... end of Life.... either one.... standing alone or together .. can be an emotional rollercoaster ....like that wind.... and the standing angel...
..... storms are hammering the west coast.... seeing major flooding... heavy snow...people stuck on passes for days.... how is it effecting your area ?
Thanks Brenda. Here in Nevada it was only an evening of strong gusts and a little rain, and then it went away. Unfortunately, folks in Washington and parts of California were not as lucky.
we went from 5 above to -50 below overnight ...brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
( a little exaggeration but not much with that Polar Vortex )
Loved this, John: “And so when the time comes, when we return to whatever it is we came from, perhaps something of us still stands. Not in grand monuments or remembered achievements, but in a simpler radiance. A warmth others feel without quite knowing why. Like a stone figure in a garden that has weathered many storms and still offers a sense of calm to those who pass by.”
Thanks, Tom. I think I tweaked those lines several times before settling on the final version.
My son has a lovely lady in his life. She's his mother-in-law, who recently lost her 93 yr old husband. She was hoping for several more years to pursue her own interests, after standing by her man, and raising five children and several grandchildren along the way. Sadly, she's just been handed an inoperable stage 4 cancer diagnosis, running rampant in her body, and is in hospice care. And yet... she has a serene calm and acceptance of what is, and cannot be changed. Your statue in the garden reminds me of her. I just might show her your video when I see her later today. I, too, love and admire her her.
Angela-Sorry to read this, of the disease afflicting your son's mother-in-law. Although it doesn't surprise me, how loss of a spouse can summon disease. Coincidental timing?. Or maybe when we've loved someone for a long time and lose that person, something in us unravels. We're tethered in a divine way to our loved one, and when they cross over the veil, perhaps that tether tugs at our soul. And so the body gives in, and we let go, and serenity and calm wash over us.
really good John...especially that you listen and care
Thanks, Julie. I try my best to listen and care and share it all in my work. Like everyone else, some days I succeed more than others. Thanks for reading.
One of the best reads of this year :-)
Very kind of you to write, Vishal, thank you.
Beautifully put..
Thanks, Kiran.
Thank you for your weekly words of wisdom on how to live a more meaningful life in loving others and all that is around us. Sent you a donation to say thank you and to let you know that your words and work is greatly appreciated. Have a blessed new year.
Many thanks, Lynn, for your comment and kind donation. May the new year bring good health and happiness to you and yours.
We've seen old and death recently and it was not easy. Your good consoling words and lady Caprice images are true gems - good reminders of things to remember and do whilst we stare at the clock that just keep ticking away.
God bless you for sharing such precious wisdoms, and the rest of us while we all learn and endure...happy new year to all.
Aging and death, those unwelcome dance partners who eventually tap on our shoulder. But then there is life, love, sunsets, coffee, animals, passions, and the entire constellation of memories we hold dear. And those memories are like roses in winter, softening our fear as we "shuffle off our mortal coil." Wishing you all the best, Najeeb.