Aging Capriciously

Driving by a little town named Thorp in Central Wisconsin a week ago the memories of my former Mother-in-law and Father-in-law flashed through my mind.  Thorp, Wisconsin was where I was married in 1967 to a young girl just out of high school.  I was still in the military and had two years left to serve.  We had met at an Air Force radar site in Osceola, Wisconsin.  Thorp was a small town of about 1200 people best known for Thorp Finance, cows, cheese curds and high school basketball.  My ex-wife’s father Jack had achieved a certain amount of fame in the area as a very successful high school coach.

Julie (my bride) and I were married in a Catholic church with Julie about 5 months pregnant.  Both of us either in too much lust or too much love to bother with contraception.  My father advised me not to marry her.  In his view, any girl who got pregnant before marriage was a whore.  He also stated this opinion in a letter I received just before the wedding.  On the other hand, Jack (my soon to be father-in-law) and Joan (my future mother-in-law) both said that they did not want us to ruin our lives and offered to raise our child as their own.  That kindness and generosity was prevalent throughout our sixteen-year marriage.  I was of course too chivalrous to accept their offer.  Christina my first and only child was born on April 19, 1968.  I never had any qualms about her being born or raising her.  I am sure that my ex-wife never had any regrets either.

• With each turning page, may we understand,
• The shadows we hold, a part of life’s grand plan.
• In this chapter, dear friend, we shall explore,
• The beauty that thrives, when shadows we adore.
  • From “Whispers of Shadows A Journey to Embrace” by Angeljomarsal2

Over the years, shadows of places that I have been, people that I have known and events that I have attended come uninvited into my mind.  Sometimes provoked by a journey, other times by something I am reading and other times by a picture or a song, these shadows conjure up a wide range of feelings.  Regret, disappointment, happiness, sadness, and melancholy accompany many such shadows that flicker like a candle and soon burn out.  They take me back to other places and other years.  I am sure that such Shadows of the Mind are frequent companions to all of us as we age.  I want to call forth some of these now.  Like the line in Faust, I summon them!  I summon them!

Shadows of Places:

I think of the places I have been.  Their memories come randomly.  Sometimes I remember being 16 at the New York Worlds Fair in 1964.  Roaming around by myself with no particular agenda.  The Vatican Pieta exhibit really made an impression on me.  Then it was my year in Biloxi, Mississippi.  Scuba diving off Ship Island whenever I could get a break from my Air Force duties.   Unalakleet, Alaska where I spent a year on a remote mountain top off the Bering Sea.  Dating Eskimos and Indians who were the first women I ever really cared about.  After leaving Alaska for Wisconsin, I developed a whole new family to start life with as a responsible father and husband.

Karen and I have visited 34 countries since we were married in 1989.  This year we will add number thirty-five to the list with South Africa.  What I remember most about many of these trips are the running trails I found each day.  In Caye Caulker, it was a trail through reputed crocodile infested Mangos around the island.  In Paris, it was down the river Seine going up bridges to cross the river than running down to the foot path following the river.  In Ireland, it was running over the Burren’s in Ballyvaughan and then down the beach along the Galway coast.  In Israel it was along a road bordered by huge Bougainvillea plants on both sides that led to the town of Migdal which is the reputed birthplace of Mary Magdalene.  In Greece I ran along a beach on the Island of Naxos past beautiful blue and white chapels.  In Italy, I ran through the village of Quadrelle each morning and ended up at a small coffee shop where to the seeming horrors of locals I would drink three cappuccinos before I left.

“Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.”  ― Euripides

I have shadows of the many cities I have run in.  I still wonder how I managed to find a way to run in San Francisco, Chicago, Los Angeles, Manhattan, Prague, Munich, London, Shanghai, Tokyo, Taiwan, and other congested places.  In Tokyo, I remember running a circuit around the emperor’s palace and being eyed warily by the palace guards.  In Prague, I remember running on the Charles Bridge with its many statues and a wide variety of street vendors.  In Shanghai, I ran past Chinese doing their early morning Tai Chi exercises on a pavilion near where we were staying.  In Munich I watched a large parade celebrating an unknown German festival.  The parade included contingents from each area in Germany in their native costumes.  Shadows from all these places come and go without notice.  Sometimes I know what triggers them and other times it is a mystery.  But then there are the shadows of events.

Shadows of Events:

There are many lists of “places” to see but much fewer lists of great events to see.  Events are harder to find.  Some occur every year like the Newport Jazz Festival and others are one off events like the Woodstock Music Festival.  We frequently do not find out about events until they are over.  In our travels, Karen and I have discovered posters of local events.  Generally, they are not within our travel dates, or they have already occurred.  Sometimes though we have been lucky enough to “trip” over an event and attend it.  On occasion, it has been through the advice of local people who have told us about the event.

One of the most interesting events that we ever attended was the Tetbury Music Festival.  We found out about it in advance after we had already booked a small cottage in Tetbury, England.

“The Tetbury Music Festival takes place over the first weekend of October every year, and the days running up to it.  A visit to the beautiful and ancient town of Tetbury in the Cotswolds makes the perfect cultural weekend break.  It is a highlight for locals as well as for those travelling from across the UK and overseas for the internationally acclaimed musicians. Concerts range from early to classical to contemporary music, with lectures and interviews to share insight, understanding and new ways of appreciating the context in which these great works were written.”

When Karen found out that they were looking for some choir members she wrote the music director and asked for permission to join the choir.  Permission was granted.  Karen received the music.  We were able to arrive in time for Karen to attend one rehearsal.  A week or so later, the festival was held, and Karen was part of it.  It was great fun for all of us and gave Karen an experience that she will never forget.

“I am not bound for any public place, but for ground of my own where I have planted vines and orchard trees, and in the heat of the day climbed up into the healing shadow of the woods.” — Wendell Berry

We attend many events in the USA.  Karen took up the mountain dulcimer about fifteen years ago.  Over the years, we have attended yearly music festivals in Avon, Minnesota; Bardstown, Kentucky; and Mountain View, Arkansas.  For Karen these events are times for her to play music with others and to learn more dulcimer skills.  I attend nightly performances but during the day roam around to discover events and places of my own preferences.  From cave touring to distillery tours, to monasteries and to finding my way around old battlefields and cemeteries, I am never at a loss for things to do.  There are so many events I have run across but are now only shadows in my mind.  Many if not most will never happen again for me.  But we keep pursuing new events.  Next year I am planning to do what may probably be my final set of scuba dives in Belize.  Last but certainly not least, are shadows of the people we have met.

Shadows of People:

In one of my blogs, I noted the distinction between being a tourist and being a pilgrim.  One definition of a tourist is “A person visiting a place for pleasure.”  My definition of a pilgrim is non-religious.  You do not have to be on a sacred mission to be a pilgrim.  I propose the idea of a pilgrim as someone who takes part in the cultures they are visiting.  Someone who is not looking in from the outside like at a visitor to a Hawaiian Luau but someone who joins the celebrants.  They say there are three types of people.  Those who do not know that there is a parade.  Those who watch the parade.  Those who are in the parade.  Tourists are watchers.  Pilgrims are in the parade.  In many of our travels, Karen and I have managed to “be in the parade” at least for a short while.

“There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.”  — Nelson Mandela

Our finding a way to become a Pilgrim has generally taken place because of two factors.  One is that we usually stay in a small apartment or rental for at least three weeks at one location.  This has allowed us to meet people.  Meeting local people is the key to becoming part of the culture.  We will never be a true part of the culture, but we can be more than just tourists by being open to people and anxious to explore their culture.

Many of the friends we have met while traveling have invited us to their homes or to attend events such as a boat party off the Isle of Capris in Italy.  Another unexpected trip we took occurred when I was teaching in Taiwan.  A student of mine invited us to join her and her husband on a weekend vacation to some remote areas in Taiwan.  In Switzerland, a couple we met at a soccer game invited us to dinner and a tour of the alps.  We toured some areas I would never have driven due to the steep inclines and my lack of knowledge of local roads.

We have so many memories of friends met during travels.  Friends such as Alex and Heidi in Cervelló, Spain enriched our lives and made our trip to Spain more than memorable.  Xibo and Mary were friends we met on our Chinese trip in 1989.  They accompanied us on several adventures in China.   Years later, we helped them to emigrate to the USA.  They now live in San Francisco with their daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren.  In Seoul, we attended a birthday party for our grandson Sam after our adopted Korean daughter Susan found her birth mother.  A year after Sam was born, we traveled back with Susan to Korea for the celebration of his one-year birthday with Susan and her birth family.

“Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is – it is her shadow.”  —Ambrose Bierce

A “Last Man Standing Bottle” includes some of the most interesting people I ever met in Frederic, Wisconsin.  We would gather every weekday in the town library to discuss books, politics, guns, cars, ideology, and any other ideas brought up.  We agreed 10 years ago to create this iconic “Bottle” for our coffee group.  Since putting the Old Granddad Bourbon in a beautiful case with a pendant that had our names on it, four of our members have passed away.  The group disbanded with the advent of Covid and was never resurrected.  The bottle now sits in a case at the Frederic Train Museum along with many other relics from Frederic.  I am 76 years old and the youngest of the three remaining bottle members.  The shadows of Dick, Jerry, Brian, and Ken periodically go through my mind.  I remember each of them so vividly in respect to ideas, but their physical aspects are just lingering shadows who periodically are guests of my thoughts.

Shadows of my life keep flitting through my mind,

Bringing back days and nights long departed,

Memories of father, mother, brother, sister, and friends once dined,

Now only shadows that grace my table, each whispering “uncharted.”