Feb. 24, 2006 - 17:31 MST

HOLDING THE FORT

LIfe toddles on, winter weather waxing and waning as its wont in the Denver area. Today it seems that we had a high of sixty degrees F. Heather and I sitting out in the sunshine like lizards basking on the rocks. It was enjoyable.

Earlier though, in reading the morning paper Heather ran on to an Obit that saddened her. A classmate of hers, one she had gone from first grade on through high school with has died. The lady had been in a nursing home for quite a long time, so it was not unexpected.

But a person is never prepared to see their circle of friends narrowing. Heather and I have bid goodbye to too many friends and relatives lately and are hoping that no more leave soon.

But statistically, we know that we are "terminal" and have not too many years to go on. Still it would be nice to be able to visit back and forth with ones we love from long ago.

'Tis easy to say, "But, we're still here, alive and kicking," and that is true. However, as the years go by, I realize that my grief concerning the departed is really my sadness of being left alone by someone going on. The old and sick, feeble have served their time and deserve their final rest, nor do I begrudge it to them. But I am sad that no longer can we visit and converse about old, good times. To sit comfortable in a chair and talk to an old hulk -- and see the person who lives inside that facade. As with our children, as I talk to them they are present to my face both as adults they are and the children that delighted my soul years ago, looking at me through eyes of childish wonder and glee and eyes of veterans of child rearing too.

I keep reminding myself, that I cannot have things both ways . . . . . . but I come as close as I can.

So, Heather and I are on the ramparts, armed to the teeth with good thoughts and determination along with good humor HOLDING THE FORT