123. ✷ On From Here
“I am going to walk along the hills and see what I have missed all these years. I think there are miracles we just don’t pay attention to.”
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. “Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
-F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Great Gatsby”
How to spend the gift of a longer life expectancy is the source of much consternation among my peers, as far as I can tell. Their reactions are unexpectedly fierce and not a little defensive. After conventional employment calendars have expired, some say firmly, “I am going to devote myself entirely to my grandchildren.” Other friends, rather grimly, say, “I will NEVER retire. I am going to die at my desk.” One acquaintance says poignantly, “I just want to be happy.”
Among the more unique responses is that of my colleague Jane Juska, a fellow English teacher and supervisor with me at Saint Mary’s. In 1999 she put a personals ad in the New York Review of Books that read, “Before I turn 67 — next March — I would like to have a lot of sex with a man I like. If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me.” Divorced for many years, she was lonely and felt her life was just slipping away, unnoticed by anyone. She wrote about her year in a book, “A Round Heeled Woman,” which subsequently became a play.
After the funeral of my childhood friend Dave Webb at the edge of the Pacific in Cambria, I found myself in the parking lot talking to an old classmate, Mike Morey. Mike was in his last year of a 35-year career as a teacher and coach in the same San Diego high school. I asked him what was next.
Looking out to sea and then back at the hills behind us, he pointed and said quietly, “I am going to walk along the hills and see what I have missed all these years. I think there are miracles we just don’t pay attention to.”
I think Mike is right. I know my hobbit friends Bilbo and Frodo have sailed from Grey Havens west over the sea. But other hobbits, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, are on their way back to the Shire. Maybe I will see them along the path. I’ll be looking for you, too.
I’ll be carrying a pack with some important things inside: something to read, something to write on, something to paint, and a few pictures of people and times gone by. Eventually, I’ll be sharing some of my thoughts in a collection of short pieces… a conversation with the world.
But until then, as Shakespeare says, “Our present tale is ended.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, this project would not have been possible without the skill and talent of Jeff Hensley, with his considerable design and communication gifts; and my parents, whose own journey has been a model for living a life of quiet dignity and courage; as well as two special groups of people: librarians and teachers.
You probably don’t remember my name. I was the quiet child with the basket on the front of my bike for carrying home stacks of library books. I didn’t think to thank you then, because I didn’t understand how very much all those hours, and all those books, and all your encouragement meant to me or to the adult I would become. But I understand now. So my heartfelt thanks and gratitude for bringing so many books and readers together—including me.
And always, to Jim, who listened to every word, and has shared the journey with unfailing love.
Neglecting small things because one wishes to do great things is the excuse of the faint-hearted.
-Alexandra David-Neel, 1889
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