Pack Creek Ranch, Moab, Utah
Suddenly the monsoon season is upon us – thunderstorms, flash flood warnings, cooler weather – wild sunflowers abound – and a blue moon – September is in sight.
LAWS OF LOOSE ENDS – Part Two
This journal entry continues thoughts generated by the conversations with two long-time friends who came to visit after their retirement. We were going to move on to the matter of aging and death. Reluctantly on my part – because I don’t think or write about those topics – just accommodate what is inevitable and get on with what happens in the meantime.
They thought I was in denial about dying, and insisted on knowing my thinking. OK, I promised to briefly make my case – sooner or later.
But first, I’ll share one friend’s tale of the Laws of Loose Ends.
His wife’s story, actually.
She had retired a year before he did, and all he knew was that she saw retirement as an opportunity and would talk about her plans when she was ready.
But she didn’t talk – she acted.
He was away for a weekend, and when he returned, change was in the air. She was wearing new clothes. And had a new hairdo. When she dressed for bed, she was wearing short silk lingerie. Her old cotton bathrobe had been replaced with a frilly negligée. And the smell of shampoo was replaced with Chanel #5. Even the sheets on the bed had been changed – a flower print.
“What the hell,” he thought.
His response, and I quote: “My first reaction was that she was having an affair or wanted a divorce. Maybe even homicide or an arranged kidnapping or the witness protection program. But I was afraid to ask. I kept my mouth shut.”
After a fine dinner, his wife had finally broken the ice by saying that she knew what he was thinking, and that he was an idiot. She told him to go and check his closet and chest of drawers. And hers, too.
Laughing, with tears in his eyes, he went on to report what he found.
His first clue was the contents of his underclothing drawer. All his old stuff was gone. Replaced by ten pairs of brand new boxer shorts. Bright colors. All are imprinted with comic characters. Daffy Duck. Hello Kitty. Mickey Mouse. Goofy. Bugs Bunny.
And to prove his point, he stood up, dropped his cargo shorts, displaying pink boxer shorts – imprinted with images of the Road Runner.
We laughed ourselves silly.
He reported that her own dresser drawers were full of new lingerie – and her closet hung with new clothes.
When he came back to the living room, she explained that anything useful had gone to the Good Will and the shoddy stuff had gone into the garbage dumpster.
She had laid out a map on the dining room table- explaining that all the money she had spent was half what it would have cost to take a cruise down the Rhine or take a trip to Peru and see Machu Pichu. She didn’t want to go.
The map had a red circle drawn on it – 100 miles in all directions from where they lived. With marks on great local places they had never been. And a list of local museums they had never visited. There were receipts for season tickets to local theaters to see plays and a schedule for the musical events in the coming year.
“New chapter in our book of life,” she said.
“We’re not retiring, only just beginning again,” she added.
They’ve been married 40 years. He loves and admires her.
So how did he respond?
With two words, as he embraced her, laughing and crying:
“Agreed – Onward!”
There’s a lot more to his story, but I’ll not elaborate.
Sometimes things work just out as they should.
Attitude. Trust. And love – are powerful.
Lucky man – lucky wife, his best friend.
And he likes his new boxers, bathrobe, and house slippers.
So I’ve come to the end of this journal without keeping my promise to express my thoughts about old age and death. My friends and I never got around to those topics.
Some other time . . . .
Onward!