Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Old Friends

Recently while mowing the front yard I paused long enough to empty the mower bag. As I lingered just a little longer in the late afternoon heat, to rest my weary bones, I glanced up in the enormous tree we have there, the last good tree on our property. My eyes caught a glance of a small length of green, rock-climbing rope dangling there in the summer breeze. As I followed that length of rope up from it's ragged end to the loop tied snuggly around a healthy limb, my mind traveled backward in time to a time approximately ten years ago, also a summer afternoon.

I was working then as a Patrol Officr with the Aberdeen Police Department then. On that particular afternoon I had been assigned the duty of security at our local airport for whatever flights might be coming or going during my shift. I was there, faitfully performing my duties when I heard a call go out over my portable police radio for the local Fire Department. The address they called out was my own and the call advised that there was a young male caught in a rope in the tree.

Being somewhat embarassed and always bold I keyed he mic long enough to request that dispatch simply leave him there. I knew immediately that my son Ross (and most likely his friends) had been using some of his rock-climbing equipment to rappel out f the tree and must havedone something wrong. Brown County Dispatcher B**** H*** informed me that they could not do that- I could hear the private chuckle in her voice.

The AFD arrived as directed and rescued my son Ross and the Fire Chief was even good enough to evaluate the way Ross had tied the rope and then to give him some suggestions on how to get it right next time. All ended well. That section of the rope they used that day has remained in that tree all thi time. If you look losely you will find other pieces of it tied here and there, as well as some pullies still dangling as proof that they had challenged and conquered the tree on more than one occasion.

My wife has asked me at times about getting that rope out of the tree but I have found it to be a doorway to some good memories. There have been others in the yard or around the house over the years. I can remember a number of years while the boys were young enough to still be playing baseball that we always had two worn spots in the grass in the front yard. I can recall how it frustrated me at the time because I wanted a plush geen yard. It took some time but the grass eventually closed in over those worn spots until now I can barely find the exact location. I catch myself looking for them, remembering the times we shared throwing the ball back and forth.

In the back yard there is a single galvanized pole standing towards the rear of our property. It is another remnant of years that are gone. The evidence of Corbin learning to bat or practicing his swing as the tethered baseball would swing around and around. The pole has countless dings and dents in it where the bat was laid against it in frustration on missed swings. But again, the pole- otherwise useless to us just now- serves as a reminder of days gone by. Proof that they were here.

And what of the girls? They did not do much rappelling or baseball, but in the hallway outside bedroom doors there are still small nailholes in he wood where someone decided to hang hippie beads over the doorway as a mock curtain. Spots of spray paint on the side of a freezer in the basement, pencil markings at graduating heights showing the growth of growing teens along a certain door jam next to the laundryroom, even a bow in the neighbor's fence from someone prematurely driving the family van. When I see these things, they don't frustrate me anymore. They are like old friends, reminding me of days gone by. Reminding me that I haven't been alone; that my life has been blessed and good and full.

2 comments:

  1. Joe!!! When will we hear from you again???

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  2. OK-so disregard that last comment. Now I see we have heard from you again. I am behind. :)

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