Middle school little leaguers growing up. A new season, a new December. High school baseball tryouts. Pint-sized gladiators in a new arena. Running Drills across the outfield, right to left.
My son, Smiley, my hero, the last runner, enjoying being there, coming up short.
He comes home and puts his running shoes away. Different challenges await.
Author's Note: This article originally appeared in our local newspaper, River Talk Weekly, in April, 2024.
There are many chapters and passages in life. My wife and I are in our Autumn years, reaping the harvest of years of work and family life. The fruits of our labors have allowed us to live mortgage-free with no desperate claims on our time.
Ah, retirement. After half a century of work, my wife and I are both looking forward to enjoying life as we get to discover new things. We are finding that with our newfound free time, we want to explore as much of this world as possible.
We live in a semi-rural setting. We are away from metropolitan areas. We had been talking about getting out to explore the night sky, and the beautiful natural areas around us. Alas, we hadn’t always found the right “time”.
We were watching the local news a few months ago and we heard about a meteor shower coming up. So, this weekend my wife and I drove out into rural Washington State, hoping to see some meteors. Yes, we were watching the weather. Rain, overcast, and above those clouds there was a full moon. We didn’t think this through, but we hit the road anyway.
We drove out to Goldendale, WA, a small farming town of about three thousand five hundred people. The town has been around for over hundred and fifty years. Fifty years ago, this town built an observatory (https://www.goldendaleobservatory.com). They were far removed from the light pollution of the big metropolitan areas, and it seemed like a good place to put a telescope. We signed up for the 9:00 p.m. to midnight visitor’s slot for the observatory program.
We arrived at the observatory at our chosen time, along with maybe 20 other diehards. The observatory is now a state park and we wanted to go and visit anyway. The Ranger on duty that night, Troy Carpenter, Observatory Administrator, gave an excellent tour of the telescope and facilities. After an introduction to the nighttime telescope alignment and operation, we were escorted into a classroom where we were taught the history of the universe. All learned because of the interpretation of light from a telescope. It was raining and cloudy outside so all of our learning was virtual, and we did not get to look through the telescope. Very poor planning on our part.
We learned about the light emission spectra, the light absorption spectra, and the history of stars. 13.7 billion years ago was the Big Bang. The most common elements were hydrogen and helium. Over the next 13.7 billion years the rest of the elements were developed when the fundamental particles, neutrons, electrons, and protons, collided with each other and formed the various nuclei of the different elements we see today. I was fascinated. Here we had the explanation to all of the universe. The how and why of what is going on with life. It put my little 65+ years in perspective and brought forth a great many questions. How much can one man’s action change the world? Or the course of history? And even, what is this world? What is life?
Normally, the insignificance of the human animal and, indeed the earth, would have sent me into a weird conundrum of despair and depression. (I mean, in the vastness of space, what is the point of it all?) I have spent my entire adult life wondering what this life is all about. I haven’t yet figured it out. But I am on the cusp of something. I think this weekend trip may have helped.
My upbringing in the Christian faith told me that God created the earth in six days and on the seventh day he rested. 13.7 billion years divided by six equals 2.283 billion years. I am now convinced that God works on a different schedule than you or me. I understand more now.
On our way out of town the next morning, my wife and I stumbled across the local Goldendale history museum that had been made from a local lawyer’s house in the 1920s. We decided to take the tour. The house was a large, spacious, three-story house with an attic. Each floor had about one thousand square feet.
We were lucky enough to have a guided tour by the museum director. Every room was period decorated and, on each wall, hung several portraits of former residents. These portraits were in black and white and showed separate images of the man of the house, or the lady of the house all dressed up elegantly in their Sunday Best go-to-meeting clothes. We started talking about these. The director said that the museum had a room in the basement with “loads” of these portraits lined up like books on the floor. Many local families, 3rd, 4th, or 5th generations, inherit these heirlooms and have no personal link to the family members who passed away twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty years before their birth. There is no repository for these histories. No repository but the local museum. The history docents at the museums love to research old photos. I got into a discussion with the old docent this weekend. Families these days do not know what to do with the photos. I, myself have often wondered. We live in a small house and have limited wall space. But this house had numerous walls all adorned with many photographic portraits of former residents of the town, the only place for a family’s old heirlooms and stories.
I have done a lot of thinking about my life and work legacies over the past few years. I have two beautiful children to carry on my name and character. My siblings all have kids, and we all share a general character and values that I believe we are passing on. I hope someday my kids will fully understand the gifts I have given them. I do not know what they will do with our portraits after our days on this planet are done. They may be digitized, stored on some computer drive or in the cloud somewhere, or stuffed in an old trunk relegated to someone’s attic or basement.
Where will that trunk be forty years from now? Will my children go through my belongings when I am dead and gone and look at the old photos for a few minutes to reminisce about their aunts, uncles, and grandparents? Will the photo ever be taken out and re-hung on a wall? No, I doubt that. The pictures, the lives, the memories, shared and forgotten do not have a life beyond the realm of family. They just become portraits of no historical value other than the life stories of my children and nieces and nephews.
A hundred years from now, our photo will just be a portrait of a family long forgotten. Such is life. Life is transitory. Families move. People live and die. Memories fade. The true value is in the spirit. The values and character that we pass on. We provide comfort and warmth, and we try to leave values and character. That is our true gift, our true legacy.
