THE LETTER OF 2022
/I don't know that I've ever written "The Letter" before. You know the one people write at years-end to tell everyone how amazing their kids and grandkids are? Maybe I haven't done it because I do it all year long in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.
Maybe because it's nine (9) degrees outside, what's there to do besides sip a hot cup of coffee and do some writing. The words that come to mind are attached to the memories of the past year. So why not compose them into "The Letter of 2022"? That's your cue, your escape hatch is open. Feel free to bail now with no blemish on your conscience. Think of this is as the trailer for a movie that people think sounds sweet but nobody wants to see: one of those happy family, almost too-good-to-be-true stories set in middle America geographically with a curmudgeonly old patriarch who's far enough left of middle to have a caring soul. This one has fewer sparkles and fluffy snow and a little more grit and dirt than a Hallmark holiday movie.
1969 was a lot. I graduated from high school, toured Europe playing drums in a band, moved to Shawnee, Oklahoma, to attend Oklahoma Baptist University. As I look back it marks my first coming-of-age. Fast forward.
Before Covid, I thought my 69th year of life would be a pivot point--my second-coming-of-age, the year I would retire and we would hit the road. I joked that if I were going to get a tattoo it would resemble a "Best By" stamp, like the one on a milk carton. It would say, "Best By 69". There were already signs that I might be "turning", turning to something a little sour, fermented, and on the edge of curdling. But the pandemic changed that and lot more. It offered me a chance to be a part of a transition at the place where I had worked for over 30 year. I am grateful for those extra months.
Early in 2022, a firm date was set. I would retire from my job at the end of the year. The need to face a new reality was pressing hard on us. Where would we live in retirement, what would we do, what the heck is medicare and how do we get it? Have we saved enough?
Tulsa is our home and we always felt a nosalgic pulling force to return there to live out our golden years. Deep down though, we knew that the Tulsa we remembered from our youth didn't exist. So, we followed the advice of others and decided to move where we could one day become a burden to our kids. Kyle and Brooke and four of our grandkids: Haddi, Everly, Malachi and Jeremiah, lived in Alva, Oklahoma. Corey and Kara and three of our grandkids: Karlee, Harper, and Nora, lived in Shawnee. Shawnee is closer to Tulsa, closer to doctors, closer to Trader Joe's, closer to Costco. So, Corey and Kara lost the lottery and we moved to Shawnee just as I had in the summer of '69 to start something new.
It all happened fast. The crazy real estate market worked for us. Our house sold in one day in a bidding war. We were able to find a house in Shawnee that was in the last stages of construction. It wasn't what I had dreamed of for our last home, before the great whatever, but as we've settled in, it has become home. It has a room where I can hang out, write, read and listen to great music. It has a room where My Amazing-Missus can sew and make beatiful quilts and stuff. She even let me put my leather-working bench in there. Occasionally we fill the room with the sights, sounds and smells of creativity.
Kyle and Brooke graduated from Hinton High School one year apart a few years back. This year they returned to Hinton to live. It is sheer blessing for us. Not only are they closer, but they have built a bridge of connection back to a community that we loved being a part of for so many years. This year Brooke, Dr. Brooke, received her PHD and accepted a full-time professorship at Redlands Community College in El Reno. In addtion to teaching, she coaches in sports and performance psychology. The move also brought a career change for Kyle. After years of serving in law enforcement, Kyle is now working for the bank where I've spent most of my career years. I am so grateful that the legacy at Legacy Bank will continue. Another generational bridge is built. The kids seem to be doing great, adjusting quickly and becoming little Hinton Comets. Obviously they are some of the most talented, smartest, gifted and beautiful kids in the entire county.
Corey and Kara live only a few minutes away. We are heeding the advice of our mentor, Doug Manning, who told us: don't make your kids be the center of your social life. So far, so good. We are going to the same church where they have gone for several years now, but we're finding our own path and circle. Kara is the director of early childhood education at North Rock Creek public schools. That is where the girls go to school. Obviously they are some of the most talented, smartest, gifted and beautiful kids in the entire county. Corey teaches graphic design and serves as chair of the art department at OBU. It is so fun to have that connection with my first university.
This year we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. We told the kids we didn't want to have a party of any kind. My concept of 50th annniversary celebrations was of really old people gathered against their wills to eat cake, nuts, and pastel mints, whispering their guesses as to whether the happy couple would make it to #51.
But we had a party! Our kids put on an event that suited us perfectly. They worked so hard, and for My Amazing-Missus and I, it was perfect. We got to remember, and celebrate, be with family and friends--new and old.
Remembering and celebrating. That's not a bad agenda for retirement. Legacy Bank where I have worked for a lot of years now has been so good to help us do just that. They are making it possible for me to continue to be a part of it all. I'm grateful.
As the year wraps up, I'm aware of the events of 2022 and realize that many of them were a total surprise. What does 2023 hold? On the first day of the year, we are heading out on our first road trip--chasing 70 degrees. Our hope is that it will be the first road trip of many. As soon as school's out we'll be off on a trip with our kids and grandkids. Can't wait. This is the kind of thing I'm looking forward to most--being with our kids and grandkids, going to games, and recitals, and parties, and trips. I just hope the grandkids (and their Mimi) will remember that old Pops is old and on a fixed income. I'll try to keep up and then I'll settle in for a long nap. There's nothing like be grandkid-tired at the end of the day.
I hope for the sake of those who have to be around me, that my "Best By" date can be extended for a time.
[cut to a scene of an old man sitting at the wedding of a beautiful young princess standing next to a handsome man who is not worthy of her. Or, maybe it's a scene of the weepy old geezer at a piano concert, or a ball game, or a dance performance, or a gymnastics meet or a graduation, or the birth of a really Great Grandchild. Or, maybe it's just a shot of the old phart, sitting and typing and remembering and dreaming and thanking God for life and love and peace and goodwill toward ALL!]
Well, they'll all be here soon and the house will be full of energy and excitement, and potentially a few tears and injuries, and laughter and noise. I better get a nap before they get here.
P.S.: When the kids decorated for our 50th, the had a record player set up with a fake record of our Greatest Hits. The album they chose to display was "Blood, Sweat & Tears". Those are all wonderful things! They are life, the visible sign of a race well-run, and the proof that joy comes from deep, deep within us.
