"The Old Man And The ‘Sea’...”
After settling into my newest temporary quarters for the evening, I pondered what to do for dinner. Right straight across the road was a bar I'd been told offered decent food, so that had become the leading contender for my next meal venue. Since prostrate removal a couple of years back, I've virtually given up drinking and visiting such places; however... That oasis was convenient and mighty tempting...
As the day had worn on, the warmth wonderfully absent during the wee hours of that morning had eventually found us, so by the time we knocked-off for the afternoon the prospect of a ‘cold-frosty’ to wash down a cheeseburger & fries sounded mighty appealing at the moment. Besides, you never know just what sort of ‘wildlife’ you might get to view while perched upon a bar stool.
"Prairie Dust Bar'... A small place in a tiny town on the dusty prairie in South Dakota...
To the uppity viewer, that hole-in-the-wall might appear to be exactly the sort of place one would definitely want to avoid. To this adventurous observer, however, its charm and appeal were obvious! Yep, ‘walking around’, local folks for sure go to a place like that, and those were precisely the type of folks I was in the mood to be with! I made the short trek…
The passable so-so cheeseburger and OK fries were swiftly devoured by this hungrier than he’d realized rider. The cold beer had been the highlight, though, a heavenly tonic for what ailed me, and it alone had been worth the visit… the rest was just a bonus.
Not much was going on inside, unfortunately, as an 'outsider' tourist couple quietly almost whispered to each other off in a corner by themselves, while an 'expanded' table full of local old folks chatted about crops, church, and grandkids. Two older local guys chatting at the bar and this solitary gypsy comprised the remainder of the crowd.
The pool table and juke box stood eerily silent. Oh well, sometimes you strike pay-dirt, other times just dirt… And sometimes we’re just too early in the day for the celebration of life likely to follow… Perhaps the faithful would gather 'for services' at this temple of leisure and distraction later that evening.
I stepped outside following my filling but uneventful dining experiment and noticed in the shade by the entry was an unoccupied picnic table. I sat for a few minutes to reflect upon my observations and to ponder the wisdom of having another brew or three to soothe tired muscles and facilitate the thinking about ‘the story’ of this story… Then, one of the older gentlemen from the bar stepped outside…
He immediately struck up a conversation with yours truly, then he took a seat and continued chatting. He was a nice enough guy who looked to be in his mid-80s or so in age (it turned out he was actually 73). It seemed obvious he wanted to ‘tell his story’ to someone, and I’d been elected. Not a problem at all, as I get a kick out of doing this sort of thing…
He’d farmed all his life, having been the son of a farmer. Following college, he obtained a three-thousand-acre farm of his own and began his life-long work that was being wound down now. He’d also dabbled in other things including a store and two other businesses while continuing to farm. All those enterprises were being liquidated now, and he was retiring completely.
He also told me of his family, then he revealed details about many of the surgeries he’d had: Brain tumor removal and a kidney removed. He’d undergone radiation treatments following the brain tumor surgery, and his health was no longer good enough for him to continue working. He also shared some other details about his life… and particularly some of his biggest successes. He seemed pleased with his life, but…
Many of us when we reach a certain point begin to take stock of our lives. Some seem to need validation or confirmation that their life had been ‘good’. Whatever it is, we do wonder about the worth of our lives or if it genuinely did have value. Have our blunders adversely impacted others, especially those for whom we care the most? Should we have chosen an entirely different path for our journey through life?
I began to see him almost as a ‘sea captain’ piloting his craft as he neared the end of his long passage. An old man seated at the helm of his 'combine' vessel as he steered it over the long fetch of the greenish/tan swells and down the shallow troughs of those intermittent dips between crests.
A steady hand on the tiller, but a reflective, almost pensive look on his weathered face. Was this trip important or even necessary? Did I do the right things along the way? Will I have a legacy about which to be proud? Am I leaving anything important undone…?
No one can know the answers to questions like that, but I don’t think he expected real praise or a glowing, robust critique. I did compliment him, though, and I did what I could to help him feel good about himself. None of us want to arrive at our ultimate end burdened with regrets or guilt.
DDT (12)
