26. Is it Mount Everest or Fools Hill?

Sometimes I wake up and think, "Well, what do you know, I woke up again."  The older I get the more astonished I am at things like that.  Some days it seems like Mount Everest looming in front of me.  Other days it's only Knob Hill.  Then there is my personal favorite and most frequented, "Fools Hill."  Bob's Daddy always said it was a long walk up Fools Hill and he was certainly right.  I wonder sometimes if one ever really reaches that particular summit.  Bob still really misses his Daddy.  He has been dead almost 40 years.  Way too early to lose your father or mother either for that matter.  Sad with anyone that you lose too soon.  

Unfortunately, you usually have to get a few years on you before you start thinking about things that you really want answers to and didn't know earlier that you were going to want them and what do you know, the one with the answers has gone to their Celestial Fandango.  Why does it take maturity to kindle the interest in your past.  Is it really going to make a difference in the rest of your life?  I think it just gives you some sort of peace to put together the pieces, like putting the last piece in the 1000 piece puzzle you have labored over for days.  The pleasure and satisfaction of completion, a job well done.  Then, strangely enough, you feel fine about taking it apart and putting it back in the box.  It's a paradox really, not totally necessary; the sun will still come up even if the last piece is missing.  Yet so satisfying when it's all there and complete.

We have to keep trying, I do know that.  We need to take the effort to listen to our elders.  They usually have a lot to say if we just listen.  I was out in the meadow this morning just looking and enjoying the beauty and sparkle of things after the over night rain.  One thing that caught my eye is the remnants of a very old apricot tree.  It seems that each year another part of it dies and needs to be trimmed.  But here it is telling me not to count it out just yet.  The few remaining healthy branches are leafed out and my guess is that we will have a few apricots, that is if we can beat the little red fox that has an equal appreciation for them.  We are fine with it if he does beat us to the punch as he can't go to the market and buy them.  My waistline tells me that I should share anyway.

 The iris and the lavender are shouting for my attention.  The Orange Sherbet is most beautiful with the rain drops shimmering.  At a moment like this I have almost forgotten my grumbling when cleaning the beds of the dried leaves.  For a few brief weeks they all wave gaily in the breeze happy to be unfurled and free.  My daddy is improving even if just a little each day and I have already asked him most of the things I've been curious about. I think his tenacity though, is telling me not to count him out just yet, that's good because I'd like to know the name of the skating rink in Iowa where he and my mom first met.