"The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time." Abraham Lincoln
I suppose I’ve been obsessing about time lately. I currently abide in South Dakota. Most of the state is located in the central time zone, but some of the western part of the state, where I am, is in the mountain zone.
And that can be weird at times. For example, the CBS
affiliate I get on cable is located in the central time zone. So prime time
shows begin at 6 p.m., shortly after I get home from work. And the nighttime
news is at 9 p.m. It’s rather strange to see Letterman two hours early.
Because of this, the sun rises about 45 minutes early and
thus sets 45 minutes early. And today, with some mild bit of shock, I realized
that summer is approaching its end. Oh sure, it’s still two weeks until Labor
Day, which comes early this year. But I took a stroll with pup at 8 p.m.
tonight and was rather surprised. About 3/4ths of a mile away, there is a huge
dinosaur statue near the highway. It is, of course, an advertisement, but there
is a paved path to get to it and it’s fairly safe. The lawn on each side of the
path is regularly mowed and so there is little risk of encountering a
rattlesnake.
But tonight’s walk was different. I started it around 8 p.m.
and realized the sun was setting. This didn’t register because I knew I had
left for my walk a little later than usual, not knowing the time. But shortly
into the walk, I realized I was chilly. There was a mild breeze and the
temperature was in the mid 60s. But I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt. The
walking helped to ward off the chill, and I told myself this is a good thing,
because I would hopefully burn off more calories. But on the way back, I
encountered another couple walking their dog. They were wearing jeans and
hooded sweatshirts. And by then, the sun was long down and it had turned dark.
And it was only 8:30 p.m. And it hit me. The summer is ending. I had my first
exposure to the oncoming winter. And it does not please me.
I suppose unhappy memories of last winter emerged. I arrived
for a four-month stint along the Oregon Coast at a National Park. It didn’t
snow last winter, but it rained just about every day from December to February.
Of the 105 days I was there, I had about 20 days of sunshine. But the short
days of the winter equinox were the most discouraging. I would arrive at work
around 8:45 a.m., in the dark. And leave around 4 p.m., also in the dark. My
nights were lonely and dark and depression was a constant companion.
Being alone sucks. Christmas and New Years were the pits. The
area where my campsite was had become flooded and it added to the feeling of
isolation. When Lewis and Clark wintered in the area in 1805-06, Clark wrote in
his journal that the only good thing about the new year was they hoped to be
with friends and family the next year. I felt the same way. I spent “Christmas”
a couple of days early with my son’s family. Yet I knew the ex would have the
actual day with them. The only part about the divorce that I regret is that
despite having children and a grandchild in common, she cannot abide my
presence. And that saddens me to. My son’s in-laws have a wonderful Christmas
holiday with a breakfast at an aunt’s; dinner at my son’s and presents in the
evenings at his wife’s parents. I
suppose this is what functional people do.
My life has been dysfunctional. Many of the Christmases I
remember as a child involved my mom’s drinking and passing out. One Christmas
Day, when I was a junior in high school, we had about two feet of snow
overnight and I helped the landlord shovel the walk. We were marooned and plans
to eat in a restaurant were shot. Mom got angry with me for helping shovel
snow. She didn’t like the landlord I guess, but she had already been drinking.
Later, the landlord brought us a half roast beef and the veggies and a pie and
we had a real dinner instead of the planned canned stew.
Other Christmas days with the ex were often quite nice. When
we lived in Queens, we held the annual dinner for everyone. After we moved to
Long Island, my sister-in-law did the honors. But there were other times when
family feuds meant we stayed at home.
And I can feel the winter closing in, even if it isn’t even
Labor Day yet. I am looking at this year’s holidays with a
sense of grimness. I haven’t a clue where I will be. I am probably visiting the
New York Metro area for a couple of weeks to see my son, my doctor and some
friends. Then I suppose I will be heading south. Then I will head for
Georgia, where I expect to make my winter quarters. The RV park I would be in
is like a second home on the road. I feel safe and secure there and my fellow
snowbirds are friendly. But all this is up in the air.
And so I need to take another look at time -- one day at a
time. I don’t need to deal with the uncertainties of the future. I shouldn’t
deal with the drama of the past. Just for today, I am significantly saner, my
blood sugars are at or below the normal range and I’m losing weight. I am
grateful for the return of some of my health. I’m working at a job where I’m
appreciated and my co-workers are pleasant to be with. My neighbors at my RV
site are great and I’m trying to count my blessings.
But it’s so effin hard. Time sucks. Not all the time, but
much of it.
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." -- Albert Schweitzer
