Hats Off To Another Day

I’m stuck …

Yes, I’m stuck on the grape arbor deck. As well as on my hands and knees. I had planned it out perfectly, or so I thought. But there I was trapped with a paint can and brush. I had painted myself into a corner.

Wire fencing and thick grape vines thwarted any passage. There was definitely no outlet. There was nothing to grab unto to help me stand. And my lower back was screaming at me.

What a predicament! An appearance by Superman would be ideal right about now. With all my years of living—the exact number is your guess—there had to be a solution. I looked over my shoulder. There was a way out. But it wasn’t pretty. Gritting my teeth, I backed up, slipping and sliding away. I reached the other side, grabbed an anchoring pillar, and lifted myself Then I looked back … and realized I had created what looked like a Nascar racetrack.

Getting older and so called wiser has its moments. When I was in my twenties I was too busy becoming to pay much attention. The child rearing years went by in a snap. So elusive was it to grab a good night’s sleep or have a bite of hot supper or remember on which softball field I had left my daughter. But now I have entered those advanced years where you can glory in all the senior freebees. That is, if you fess up. My kids have no problem asking the cashier for senior discounts for me. But I smirk and cough a lot. Why? Because I don’t want to get old, because I still want to drive and paint decks. Heck, I feel the same way inside as I did when I was twenty. I’m still me. And while there are challenges to growing older, there are also advantages. Like munching on raw carrots sticks instead of licking down a double scoop chocolate chip cone with cocoa shots.

The other day there was a request for a photograph from years ago. I recalled the event but I wasn’t sure I had taken a picture. The search began. Quickly, our recreation room took on the look of a discount shopping basement. Tiptoeing through the strewn bright photos, hope drummed in my heart. But it was dashed with each picture I picked up. Just where could it be?

Taking a break on my favorite couch, I closed my eyes. Back in time I went. I smiled, there it was—the moment my son walked proudly to claim his award. My head had strained forward and I had clapped my hands until they were a ruby red… hands that held no camera. I was befuddled.

There was no photo because I didn’t take my camera. I had no idea why. Should I reprimand myself for not taking pictures or should I be grateful that I had remembered this honorable moment at all? I reminded myself that it is important to forgive those upsets that can thwart and frustrate. Instead it is necessary to realize that personal imperfection and weakness are daily companions that confront optimal decisions. With inner resolve and fortitude the best choices can be made … choices that beckon like savory cheddar cheese and sweet seedless grapes.

I have decided to journey sensibly using the wisdom of accumulated years and whatever smarts God has given me. Then, in the seasons to come, I can amble on with a bounce in my arch.

Gazing into the bathroom mirror, smoothing over wrinkles with copper tones, I realize it’s true. There will be times like being stuck on the wooden arbor or forgetting to photograph a major occasion. Oh, well. Just excuse myself and move on. And throw my cap off to greet another day—a day to welcome and squeeze out all its goodness.

The reflection in the mirror catches a gleam in my green eyes. I playfully wink back. Yes, I may be piling on the days, but I’m doing my part. Because the best is yet to be.

… and that’s how I live it.