Wow….it’s been over a year since I approached the art of blogging. I suppose it’s still an art. I suppose anything is still possible in this year 2020. There’s a couple of days left for any sort of pandemonium thing to happen, like the arrival of little green men on Earth, an invasion of giant locusts across the midwestern part of the United States or those elusive flying pigs I’ve always heard about around the ole coffee pot in the break room.
Perhaps it’s acceptable to say I have been distracted by the events of the incredible heart-slamming 2020. Among them, more than one tragedy and loss in our family/community this year, a global pandemic, an unprecedented number of tropical storms, forced virtual learning for the grandchildren, massive corruptive governmental drama, and some slight personal health issues in the household. But, while we wait for the Covid-19 vaccine, we have been graced with local curbside pickup within a 50 mile radius and that’s kept us safer than we would have been and out of the aisles for which we will never be able to personally thank the exact essential workers responsible.
I was talking to my friend today about her adventures in hiking beautiful destinations across the Natural State this year as a safe way to recreate during the pandemic. It got me thinking about my love for nature and how that is so deeply rooted in taking walks with my father, way back when I was a little girl. But, even now, when it’s warm enough (and not too windy), Fred and I get out and meander around the farm just to enjoy the fresh air in Arkansas.
There’s something about feeling my feet on a familiar dirt path...it’s indescribable. It’s not just comfortable. It’s comforting. It’s necessary. It’s needed. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Definitely in 2020 more than ever. I shared some meaningful walks with my granddaughters this fall also, making memories with them and discovering the varieties of trees growing along the property. Hickory, sassafras, pine, elm, pecan, dogwood, oaks (and all those cedars I hate). They’re pretty peaceful. And quiet. And calm.
If I let myself, I can imagine distinct discussions with my father about events of this wonky year. Like, what he would think about the way the coronavirus is raging across the world and particularly in America. Although I would be so fearful of him catching Covid-19 if he were here, as a child born in the 1930’s, I know he lived through hardships I can’t even comprehend. He would have something to say, if I asked him.
There's a lot I'd like to ask his advice about....like the time I threatened to murder someone this year. He wouldn't have advised that or would he have? I wish we could visit about Yellowstone (all 3 seasons) and 2020 football, the abysmal years our favorite teams had and what the ideas would be for improvement. Probably we would decide to hope next year will be better. One of us is a bit of a fair weather fan, and it is me.
I’d love to debate the current status of politics with my dad, as in many years before. We wouldn’t agree but we’d cover two or three hours late at night without even taking a break. I think we would still both say the governmental system remains far too wasteful and our veterans deserve more respect. Those things were always constant. 2020 would not be any different. I’d say the same stuff, he’d say the same stuff and we’d neither be swayed. I voted. He wouldn’t have, but he would know all the issues in and out.
It’s fair to "guess-timate" that my Daddy would still ask me if I was moving back each time I came over to visit in the year 2020, and if I wanted to, he and Mom would let me. I really don’t think anything could happen to change that any year…..even one as weird as this one was…...in my daddy’s lifetime. And, to know your family loves you, that you can go home….well, that has continued to be something that keeps me going every single day.
One thing I’d really love to ask my Daddy about isn’t about current events so much as it is about a memory I have. As we have watched all the news coverage of the horrific fires in California (and Colorado, etc.) this year, I have recalled climbing a fire tower when I was tiny with Daddy and looking WAY down to the ground below. My Mom looked like a toothpick and Daddy and I were laughing at her because she didn’t climb up with us. I think nowadays it’s somewhat illegal to set foot on the Arkansas Forestry Service fire watchtowers but in the early seventies maybe it wasn’t (or was). I wish I could hear his version of that story right this moment. I’ve heard Mom tell it recently. I wish even more we could climb that tower in 2020!!!!
The last few years of my father’s life were not healthy ones. He didn’t have the ability to walk the land like he did when I was learning to appreciate trees in our beautiful State of Arkansas. But, he instilled the importance of that in me early on. I understand why he would retreat to the woods and be lost out there sometimes for hours. Even before 2020, it was a retreat from everyday craziness for him.
It still means so much to me to get outside even occasionally and walk. This year has been tough, but a little common sense and some good old-fashioned willpower is about to see me through 2020….along with a steady diet of Bill Ashlock’s philosophy of “just walk awhile and think about it”. I’m gonna finish walking this year out.
I am making no new year’s resolution. I haven’t done that for a while now. I just aspire to live every day as it presents itself with the opportunity to do something purposeful, helpful or meaningful. I have given up on trying to be perfect or likeable. I can be happy just trying to see out of both eyes and occasionally writing a blog post about wandering the woods instead. That was one of the first lessons I learned from Daddy….”Life isn’t going to be fair. People aren’t going to be fair. But, trees….trees are pretty quiet and peaceful.”
Goodbye, 2020. May 2021 be better for the people I hold most dear in my heart, the people they hold most dear in their heart, and so on and so on…..until the whole world is a better place for us all.
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