Over the mountain.......

The geological trek of life is a nifty, wondrous one.

We start by being, well, pretty shocked at all the light... the noise... the touch...  While we've developed nicely - we're not ready to start climbing the big hill we're faced with.

The struggle for the first 12 months or so is symbolic, really, of the entire quest here on earth.  We're flat.. staring up... much 'up there' is humongous, scary..  but... we strive to be on an even keel - so..  we scoot..then rise to our knees... with the assistance of inanimate objects - we stand.. lean.. and sometimes fall.

Finally, we go.  Of course, oft fall, fail some would call it. But, right back up again.  It's in this 3 year or so span where we learn family, love.  We fall, we get help back up. We're hungry, there's two big folks that assist.  They clothe us.  Diaper us. Lift us up to see things they think we oughta see.  They sing to us.. they coo at us and we coo back.  They smile at us - and when we learn to do that back is somehow broadens their own smile.

Finally, when they say "I love you", we can in turn say it back. Katy bar the door - here we go. As we climb the mountain of life there is much unknown, so we ask.  And ask, and ask.  The perpetual little talkers we've become - lends to half-listining parents.  "Mom?"  "Mom??"  MOM!!??"...  We don't really understand what takes so long in answer, well, for at least another 25 years or so... then, we get it.

Just when we've got that walking, talking thing out - we've stood, fallen, walked, fallen, ran, fallen.  Talked, been corrected, spoke, been complimented - they put us on a dadgum bicycle. Thankfully, there are four of them wheels, thus, when we continue up the hill, we won't fall over.

Huh?  You're taking two off?  And so it continues, up, fall, up, fall. Move forward, slip back a bit.. The struggle, at least on the bike, is real.. at least until we get that fancy 20 speed where we can continue up the hill on whatever gear that easy gear is that it makes you feel like you're hardly pedaling.

What's that big yellow thing?  School starts.  Kinda like the shock of rolling outta the womb, we're forcefully gathered with other folks who were also conceived, oh, 5 years and a few months ago.  But wait!  That guy is huge!  Over there, she's dark.  Another one is tiny.  People are different here.  Whatsup with that?  It's a lifelong thing of learning as we climb the mountain... Despite the best efforts of many, some never break the mold of hatred for 'anyone that's different'.   Sad, it 'tis.

So, we speed this up a little.  Mom and dads fridge proudly has oodles of artwork affixed by little magnets.  As the years progress, more and more and more 'goodies' of our school handiwork is brought home.  Much like the late night wrapping of presents in their guise of Santa - they one night take a kitchen sized trash bag and fill it to the gills with handiwork from 1st, 2nd, 3rd, yada, grade, and off to the recycling bin, ne'er to be seen by us again.

We suddenly, or so it seems, awaken to the opposite sex.  The learning of 'them' starts. Cinchy. It's as easy as remembering every cell phone number of every friend, relative, vendor, doctor, utility, etc we have, every user id password for thirty or so things we log in to..  Inotherwords, it ain't fully gonna happen, this, learning of the opposite sex.  It's like when we were kids and Gomer would come on the tube with "Surprise, surprise."  Climbing the mountain of life, we handhold a partner.  The lucky ones trudge on.  Others, it's like being Goldilocks and it just ain't gonna work - or, woooooosh, "hey, where'd they go?" and they pull a Snagglepuss.

Much like we learned to scoot, crawl, walk, run, peddle - we drive.  Yum.  Across town ain't nuttin. Much of our vehicle endeavors mean great times, great things with friends... then there's the uncomfortable aspect of dating.  Getting to know you, getting to know all about you.  Right.  And the answer to getting to know one, really getting to know one, is akin to that snarky 3rd grade teacher (Mrs. Prescott) and her funny ha-ha final pop quiz question "How many grains of sand are there in the Sahara Desert."  What?  I ain't even learned Sara's sibling's names, her likes, dislikes at the dinner table, whether or not that one laugh is having fun with me or making fun of me.  Up, we must go up that hill.

We find, 'the one'.  We gather, best man, maid of honor, a host of others.  We pick little Johnny as ring bearer even after he's left his bike out in the rain so many times the chain rusted and broke in two.  Suzy is so dadgum cute, tada, flower girl.  Little did we know when the day actually comes we'd be reduced to, under our breath, "Just STOP crying Suzy, walk down the damn aisle and toss a petal or two here and there."  We have a really, really nice, big ole' dollar amount for the whole deal - in fact, little do we know, but it's enough, were we to put it into whatever Edward D. Jones recommends, we could be rich by retirement time, even if that means she's living on the East Coast, and I, the West Coast.

Instead, we find a photographer to take 912 pictures of the bride, all others involved so they can be ultimately lost at the bottom of our Facebook feed, as well as gathering dust in a picture notebook sitting on the table in the den.

We get jobs.  Or, we don't.  We lose jobs, sometimes our fault, sometimes not.  Finding two that go together like peanut butter and jelly is virtually impossible.  You take our son to soccer practice, then you can get ready for work, I'll get off work and grab him on my way home.

WAIT!!!! WHAT?!!!!  A child? We step back a sec...  glance down at how far we've come on the mountain, then take a gander up to take a peek at the peak.  Holy guacamole.  WHAT?  You mean sometimes they'll cry so hard and so often that we cave in to picking them up and holding them in our arms as WE TOO climb this mountain?  Uh huh.  Mebbe you shoulda thought about that before you gave her that silky negligee which coincided with her buying that seductive new cologne.  Oh well.

And another.  Huh?  We only got two bedrooms, now what?  HAVE YOU SEEN HOW EXPENSIVE DAY CARE IS? 

Oh it ain't all about climbing that mountain.  We, thankfully, have boo koo hours of fun, neighbors on the deck... in the cul-de-sac..... former school chums and their snotnoses, playing with ours.  And, thank the Lord for the Night time - as well as that occasional weekend they go to grandma and grandpas.

There's music, laughter, movies, vaca's, going to parks, pools, skating rinks.. Back to school, PTA, selling damn trash bags, the Bombers little league team, and of course dance lessons at ForkOverYourLifeSavings Dance Academy. They've rolled outta the womb.  Scooted. Crawled. Walked. Fallen. Ran. Fallen. to Triked.Biked. Driven. (I wanna shoot that little iguana for proclaiming how inexpensive car insurance is.)

Good Lord he went down on a knee, she said yes, howinthehell do we get money outta our 401K at 40-something to pay for all that?  The tranny is slipping on the SUV, damn insurance guy said "your roof leaks but it ain't because of the hailstorm," there's a huge crack in the basement wall..  That fancy smanchy class in High School they called 'HMRE' (Healthy Marriage and Relationship Education) never said nuttin' about all this?!!!!

"Don't you talk to my granddaughter like that, she'll toss the petals out of the basket when she dadgum well pleases.  Johnny.  Johnny?  WHERE did you put the ring?"

Snap snap, cha-ching cha-ching.  Take those funky pictures bride girl.

The long and winding road.......... that goes uphill. We've noticed grey hair, a few wrinkles, 20 or so friends that have newer cars than us - but hey, we're enjoying this trip. We're only three or four Presidents away from retirement (6 or 8 if the damn Pubs and Dems keep arguing like they are.)

"You know honey, it's been almost a week since we've heard from the kids - they must be enjoying life."  Ring, ring.  "HE WHAT?"  "My dad fell, the ambulance is there to take him to the hospital, let's go."

Mom and dad have had a beautiful, exemplary trip up to the peak, and down the mountain so far.  Now they need a little help, glad we're able to do so.

Mom's been gone ten years now, dad seven.  I only wish I woulda asked them more questions, spent more hours...  I'm in the same boat with my folks honey, but don't beat yourself up... we were climbing the mountain, much the same as they did when their folks started aging.  Life is like learning to juggle three balls, then someone suddenly throws you one or two more and we're sposedta continue as if nothing has changed. It ain't possible.

That peak.  We done it. It is sooooo nice not having to set an alarm.  I love that you have coffee made for me, and that you don't get upset with me for sleeping in after reading until midnight.  Honey we're practiced for that.  We had different jobs, of course mutual friends, but too, our own set of friends.  We're kinda 'the candy cane' of life.  You know, Lucy and Ricky, Fred and Wilma, Arch and Edith...You're red, I'm white on the candy cane, or vice versa if you please.

Can you believe our 50th High School Reunion is this summer?  Looking in the mirror, yes, yes I can.  Traveling in the right lane, at the speed limit on interstate, seeing all the hurried young'ns passing us on their way up the mountain, uh huh, fifty is not hard to believe.

We went thru all that, for this.  Nice.  The steps, they get a tad tougher down the hill.  Ya know, when we fell going up the hill, it wasn't much of a big deal.  Now, we fall, that damn gravity can bring us down in a hurry and it's much tougher.  Agreed - but that, and life has taught us to not sweat the small stuff. To stop and smell the just cut grass, the Douglas fir Christmas tree.. the apple pie in the oven.  Take that back-road every so often where there ain't the hustle bustle, concrete, where there's a little, or a lot of wiggle room between homes, farms.  When we were kids, we really didn't know to appreciate things like that.

They call it over-the-hill.  I liken it more to over the mountain.  Hills are easy.  You get to the top, the view's nice, but it ain't much.  Ya reach the peak of the mountain, you can be proud.  Ya look out and yum, there is a God.

Hey, ya wanna watch a movie?  Scrabble?  Sit on the deck and have a glass of wine?  Well, I was thinking more along the lines of putting on that new negligee you bought me last week.  YEE HAW!  My daddy done taught me right... he said, "whatever she wants... you answer 'Yes dear'.'..  So, YES DEAR, let's go... I'll raceya!  NO!  You might fall, here, hold my hand, we'll walk together.

By Henry Hallmark Gibson

Love, Victurd

(Well aware there are all kindsa ends.  Burnt ends, split ends, tight ends (minda outta gutter, talking football), dead ends, battery ends, skinny ends, no butt ends, fatbottom girls (relax, much like big gut men).. and ends where divorce happens, or, marriage never happens.  The above is but one example.  Many of us are alone, some by our choice, some by other's choice.. the view from the mount, the attitude coming down, much the same.  We make do.  Just know, it's almost as yummy as the story above. Burma Shave)