I have been to 3 Countries, 2 Continents, and over 35 States. There seems to be something about Oregon that holds me captive. Among all the places I have been to I find the most beauty in Oregon. The mountains, rivers, forests, desert, and beaches all have a certain lure that is a constant hypnotizing natural aspect of life that remains mysterious.
But in all its beauty, somedays I get caught up in the rat race, worry too much about whats going on in my life to realize WHERE my life is taking place.
There is a road not far from my apartment and the college which still amazes me every time I turn down it.
Summit Drive is a three or four mile road that winds around Aubrey Butte and gives the most elegant glances of the Cascade Mountain Range. When the weather is clear the west is protected by huge sheets of cascading lave that steal my eyes from the road. It is sometimes unclear how I do not crash the car while being distracted by this natural beauty.
Mount Bachelor, Broken Top, South Sister, Middle Sister, North Sister, Black Crater, Three Fingered Jack, Mount Washington, Black Butte, Mount Jefferson, and on a clear day Mount Hood. The view spectacular, the emotion evoked- awestruck, and certain sense of overwhelmedness falls in your lap.
I wish you could see it from my perspective while I am on this road, for the view is priceless.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
I see it...I hope for it.....
LOVE IS ALL AROUND
I visited my grandparents yesterday. They have been married for 60 years or so. That is a long time and a dying concept in this world. people seek perfection too much, make themselves unhappy and die alone. Not in my grandparents case. On Monday my Grandfather had skin removed from his eye lids which were inflamed from the crash. He also had fat removed from is neck. The areas became inflamed in the crash.
Think about it. an 86 year old man having a Tuck, and wrinkle removal, hilarious. The doc probably told him he would look 10 years younger.
I walked in to see my Grandfathers head wrapped up surgical bandages that circled his hear laterally and vertically. his has stitches in his eye lashes and dried blood protruding from his bandage covering his chin.
My Grandmother follows me back to his room where his sits in his blue leather chair. I sit in front of him and we catch up on the latest news of my life. I explain I am there for a short visit before a job interview. I rarely make it over any more since I almost killed myself and totaled my car in a wake-up call crash. Today, Sarah, my girlfriend is working and has allowed me to use the car for my interview. I leave early to come see this elderly couple I adore.
I have to talk much louder than normal. The bandages cover my Grandfathers ears. 2010 has been a rough year for him. He has been in bad shape and now he just had surgery. Again.
We converse.
My grandmother and I chuckle at our patriarch's current life situations and he chuckles along.
I tell him, "Man, Pop, you are a wreck! (::laugh::) We have to get you better quick!"
"I have to get better before I get worse!" He replies with a smile and cough.
My Grandmother re-adjusts his bandages and its quiet. While looking at my grandmother I notice a certain look come upon her face. The look of love. True Love. Unconditional pure love. Everlasting.
She is still in love with this man after all they have been through. Losing a son, three wars and foreign tours over seas (leaving the family behind), car crashes, health problems, family problems, everything. Nothing has separated them over the years. She looks at him as if it were the first days after their marriage- it is many years later.
At Christmas time I saw them kiss after dinner. No one was around and no one was supposed to see. I did. I saw it. They are truly still in love and they will both likely die with in the next 20 years. They will not die alone.
This is what I want. I want to be 75-80 years of age and still feel those strong feelings of true, unconditional, undying, everlasting, pure LOVE.
There is a lyric by Brand New that goes, "Everyone who lives will someday die, and die alone."
Even though they are one of my favorite bands, I refuse agree.
I hope for it. I hope for the love that I feel, till death do us part. And even past that.
When I am old, dying in my bed I hope that the love of my life is there with me. Or if she is on her death bed I hope I am there for her as well.
Sarah and I are very involved. We talk about the future, marriage, and things we want to do together. We live together, play together, and love each other very much.
I hope with all my heart that she IS the one and that our love lasts like my Grandparents. I see their love. I hope to feel love like that as well.
I don't want to die alone.
I visited my grandparents yesterday. They have been married for 60 years or so. That is a long time and a dying concept in this world. people seek perfection too much, make themselves unhappy and die alone. Not in my grandparents case. On Monday my Grandfather had skin removed from his eye lids which were inflamed from the crash. He also had fat removed from is neck. The areas became inflamed in the crash.
Think about it. an 86 year old man having a Tuck, and wrinkle removal, hilarious. The doc probably told him he would look 10 years younger.
I walked in to see my Grandfathers head wrapped up surgical bandages that circled his hear laterally and vertically. his has stitches in his eye lashes and dried blood protruding from his bandage covering his chin.
My Grandmother follows me back to his room where his sits in his blue leather chair. I sit in front of him and we catch up on the latest news of my life. I explain I am there for a short visit before a job interview. I rarely make it over any more since I almost killed myself and totaled my car in a wake-up call crash. Today, Sarah, my girlfriend is working and has allowed me to use the car for my interview. I leave early to come see this elderly couple I adore.
I have to talk much louder than normal. The bandages cover my Grandfathers ears. 2010 has been a rough year for him. He has been in bad shape and now he just had surgery. Again.
We converse.
My grandmother and I chuckle at our patriarch's current life situations and he chuckles along.
I tell him, "Man, Pop, you are a wreck! (::laugh::) We have to get you better quick!"
"I have to get better before I get worse!" He replies with a smile and cough.
My Grandmother re-adjusts his bandages and its quiet. While looking at my grandmother I notice a certain look come upon her face. The look of love. True Love. Unconditional pure love. Everlasting.
She is still in love with this man after all they have been through. Losing a son, three wars and foreign tours over seas (leaving the family behind), car crashes, health problems, family problems, everything. Nothing has separated them over the years. She looks at him as if it were the first days after their marriage- it is many years later.
At Christmas time I saw them kiss after dinner. No one was around and no one was supposed to see. I did. I saw it. They are truly still in love and they will both likely die with in the next 20 years. They will not die alone.
This is what I want. I want to be 75-80 years of age and still feel those strong feelings of true, unconditional, undying, everlasting, pure LOVE.
There is a lyric by Brand New that goes, "Everyone who lives will someday die, and die alone."
Even though they are one of my favorite bands, I refuse agree.
I hope for it. I hope for the love that I feel, till death do us part. And even past that.
When I am old, dying in my bed I hope that the love of my life is there with me. Or if she is on her death bed I hope I am there for her as well.
Sarah and I are very involved. We talk about the future, marriage, and things we want to do together. We live together, play together, and love each other very much.
I hope with all my heart that she IS the one and that our love lasts like my Grandparents. I see their love. I hope to feel love like that as well.
I don't want to die alone.
An Afternoon Visit.....
I moved to Central Oregon for a number of reasons. My Grandparents are 30 miles away, the outdoors, the culture, blah blah blah. I also moved away from Colorado Springs to avoid possible future situations that would be considered poisonous. Lets face it- if I had stayed in Colorado Springs and worked at the restaurant, life wouldn't be as enjoyable as it is now.
When choosing a new place to live I chose Bend Oregon basically so that I could start over while being close to my grandparents. Up until the point I crashed my car I would spend alot of time over in Sisters Oregon. My grandparents are a source of unlimited wisdom, unconditional love, and although they can be very old fashion at times, they are almost always right.
Yesterday I had a job interview out by their house and decided I would make a day out of it. I left early to go see them in the house they build in 1992 and where I spent most of my adolescent summers and winters. Upon arrival, my grandmother welcomes me and tells to to go look in the garage where I see a brand new Ford Ranger pick-up. Aside from the color it is identical to the truck that my Grandfather was driving on January 8th this year, when he hit a patch of ice, slid into the opposite lane, and crashed into a state police officer with a combined speed of almost 100 mph. He should have died right there on the highway by the way the truck looked.
After being hospitalized, medicated, and stabilized he was released from a two week stay at the hospital. His face, tattered and torn, his back in uncontrollable spasms, and he has not seen this much agony since his sons death in the late sixties. He is basically immobilized, in pain and uncomfortable. He now has a physical therapist ( or had one, he said "she fired me."), exercises at the local gym and is attempting to strengthen what is left of his 86 year old muscles.
I thought he would be done driving. He said it himself that he is scared of being behind the wheel. To see a brand new truck in the drive made me weary and nervous myself. During my visit I asked him, "So where you plan on going with that new rig, pop?" He was quick to answer that he was going to go to Bend and Redmond, to attend his frequent Mason Lodge meetings, where he is still a very important, prominent official. He is a 32nd degree Mason, one degree away from the top, and a very respected member of the brotherhood.
I quickly respond back to his rebuttal by saying, "Well good Pop, you need to get out of the house and stop isolating yourself." - But I say it with some hesitance.
He tells me about his aching back, how hard it is to get out of be in the morning, how weak he feels even after the gym workouts, and how "Getting old is Hell."
I don't know how to respond.
I quickly try to cover up the sorrow by making him look at the glass half full and tell him that there has to be a reason for him to live or he would have died in that crash. This gives him hope for only a slight second as he responds, "Clay, its time for me to die."
Not the words I was hoping to hear.
I refute. I say, "No Pop, You have to see us (grandkids) graduate college, get married and have kids! You have to wait for great grandchildren sir!"
He chuckles as he produces coughs filled with phlegm and replies, "Hell no! I will be in my mid 90's I don't want to live that long I am miserable." He goes back to his tangent about being incapacitated and having to use a walker and cane.
I had to get him out of his funk. The only way that would be possible would be to have him recall the past- the good 'ol days.
I let there be a silence for a moment as I stare west to the Cascade Range. I look at my watch and have one hour until my interview and 45 minutes until I have to leave. 45 minutes for me to turn my grandfathers day and outlook around.
I shuffle through his chair side table magazines. Among them a Army Ranger publication, A Masons magazine, and others. On top was a blue covered booklet 200 pages thick. As I shuffle through, his cane raises to the table , he places the cane-end on the blue booklet and says, "Thats the best one there."
I pick it up and turn the pages as if it were a picture flipbook like the ones we has in youth. The booklet is filled with maps, maps of different towns in Oregon, and more importantly locations of Masonic Lodges that he is in charge of. Or was.
We talk about how most people my age would not be able to navigate without GPS systems and how technology in poisoning our country.
I now have him talking, which is a good thing. His mood seems to be turning around. he starts to tell me stories as we sit. His stories consist of military experiences, his former leaders/mentors, and people he lead and mentored. Just to have him talk about these things make him proud of who he is. I am almost there- I have him right where I want him, in a better mental state.
I nod, agree and throw in a brief related story.
We are connecting. His voice has more cheer in it now that he has someone to talk to. He sits atop the bench at the organ in the living room, I sit in a much lower vintage chair my grandmother has always had. He is higher than me, looking down on me, and sharing his wisdom. I look on with admiration.
As I check my watch, it is time to leave. I politely stand and stretch as he continues his story.
He wraps it up, he knows I have to leave and he says, "What I am getting at Clay, is that it doesn't matter who you are, what you do or how you do it, if you don't have a mentor who you respect and people that respect you, you aren't goin'."
My Grandfather had many mentors, has mentored many, and earned alot of respect. He has served this world as best he can. He is a man of principle. I love him, admire him, and he has been a great mentor of mine. My respect for him will never die.
As I head for the door, I tell him I will see him tomorrow and look forward to more of our talks.
He is here for a purpose or multiple. I am here to find out what that purpose is.
If he does go, I will know that he has left his mark.
I know this as I left the house that day with a smile and a tear.
I turned his day around.
He continues to turn my life around.
When choosing a new place to live I chose Bend Oregon basically so that I could start over while being close to my grandparents. Up until the point I crashed my car I would spend alot of time over in Sisters Oregon. My grandparents are a source of unlimited wisdom, unconditional love, and although they can be very old fashion at times, they are almost always right.
Yesterday I had a job interview out by their house and decided I would make a day out of it. I left early to go see them in the house they build in 1992 and where I spent most of my adolescent summers and winters. Upon arrival, my grandmother welcomes me and tells to to go look in the garage where I see a brand new Ford Ranger pick-up. Aside from the color it is identical to the truck that my Grandfather was driving on January 8th this year, when he hit a patch of ice, slid into the opposite lane, and crashed into a state police officer with a combined speed of almost 100 mph. He should have died right there on the highway by the way the truck looked.
After being hospitalized, medicated, and stabilized he was released from a two week stay at the hospital. His face, tattered and torn, his back in uncontrollable spasms, and he has not seen this much agony since his sons death in the late sixties. He is basically immobilized, in pain and uncomfortable. He now has a physical therapist ( or had one, he said "she fired me."), exercises at the local gym and is attempting to strengthen what is left of his 86 year old muscles.
I thought he would be done driving. He said it himself that he is scared of being behind the wheel. To see a brand new truck in the drive made me weary and nervous myself. During my visit I asked him, "So where you plan on going with that new rig, pop?" He was quick to answer that he was going to go to Bend and Redmond, to attend his frequent Mason Lodge meetings, where he is still a very important, prominent official. He is a 32nd degree Mason, one degree away from the top, and a very respected member of the brotherhood.
I quickly respond back to his rebuttal by saying, "Well good Pop, you need to get out of the house and stop isolating yourself." - But I say it with some hesitance.
He tells me about his aching back, how hard it is to get out of be in the morning, how weak he feels even after the gym workouts, and how "Getting old is Hell."
I don't know how to respond.
I quickly try to cover up the sorrow by making him look at the glass half full and tell him that there has to be a reason for him to live or he would have died in that crash. This gives him hope for only a slight second as he responds, "Clay, its time for me to die."
Not the words I was hoping to hear.
I refute. I say, "No Pop, You have to see us (grandkids) graduate college, get married and have kids! You have to wait for great grandchildren sir!"
He chuckles as he produces coughs filled with phlegm and replies, "Hell no! I will be in my mid 90's I don't want to live that long I am miserable." He goes back to his tangent about being incapacitated and having to use a walker and cane.
I had to get him out of his funk. The only way that would be possible would be to have him recall the past- the good 'ol days.
I let there be a silence for a moment as I stare west to the Cascade Range. I look at my watch and have one hour until my interview and 45 minutes until I have to leave. 45 minutes for me to turn my grandfathers day and outlook around.
I shuffle through his chair side table magazines. Among them a Army Ranger publication, A Masons magazine, and others. On top was a blue covered booklet 200 pages thick. As I shuffle through, his cane raises to the table , he places the cane-end on the blue booklet and says, "Thats the best one there."
I pick it up and turn the pages as if it were a picture flipbook like the ones we has in youth. The booklet is filled with maps, maps of different towns in Oregon, and more importantly locations of Masonic Lodges that he is in charge of. Or was.
We talk about how most people my age would not be able to navigate without GPS systems and how technology in poisoning our country.
I now have him talking, which is a good thing. His mood seems to be turning around. he starts to tell me stories as we sit. His stories consist of military experiences, his former leaders/mentors, and people he lead and mentored. Just to have him talk about these things make him proud of who he is. I am almost there- I have him right where I want him, in a better mental state.
I nod, agree and throw in a brief related story.
We are connecting. His voice has more cheer in it now that he has someone to talk to. He sits atop the bench at the organ in the living room, I sit in a much lower vintage chair my grandmother has always had. He is higher than me, looking down on me, and sharing his wisdom. I look on with admiration.
As I check my watch, it is time to leave. I politely stand and stretch as he continues his story.
He wraps it up, he knows I have to leave and he says, "What I am getting at Clay, is that it doesn't matter who you are, what you do or how you do it, if you don't have a mentor who you respect and people that respect you, you aren't goin'."
My Grandfather had many mentors, has mentored many, and earned alot of respect. He has served this world as best he can. He is a man of principle. I love him, admire him, and he has been a great mentor of mine. My respect for him will never die.
As I head for the door, I tell him I will see him tomorrow and look forward to more of our talks.
He is here for a purpose or multiple. I am here to find out what that purpose is.
If he does go, I will know that he has left his mark.
I know this as I left the house that day with a smile and a tear.
I turned his day around.
He continues to turn my life around.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Taking Notes.
Have you ever read an article or book and by the time you finish you feel complete? Have you noticed that after time the Article or Book still carries a slight concept in your head but you cannot recall the main details and points that really made the story pop? I have. I do it all the time. I say, "Yeah I read that book!" but I really forgot why I liked it or didn't. Truth is, that I have forgotten the vivid descriptiveness of the piece but remember the general theme.
I just finished my third term of college at Central Oregon Community College, and a class with Aaron Lish who happens to be one of the most knowledgeable people I have ever met. I took a literature class with him titled Survival Stories, which was a nice supplement to my Outdoor Leadership degree. We read three books and countless short stories regarding survival tales and techniques. throughout the term he suggested we took notes on the books and the authors writing styles. The technique worked when I applied it to my reading. Or when I even read.
So. . . Now I am going to start applying that concept to my everyday life. My girlfriend has an amazing best friend who also blogs on this site and I can't help but laugh at her writing style and the things that happens in her life. With the combination of Aaron Lish' directions to TAKE NOTES, and Emily's inspiration to document life as it unfolds. You will hear my triumphs, trageties, and tales of all sorts.
I have noamed my Blog "All these places have their moments," for a reason obviously. The Title comes from a Beatles song entitled "In My Life," a song that my mother sang to me when i was young and as far back as I can remember. The first line of the song is:
"There are places I'll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all."
This is meaningful to me and my life and explains it awesomely.
From here on out I will be Taking Notes.
I just finished my third term of college at Central Oregon Community College, and a class with Aaron Lish who happens to be one of the most knowledgeable people I have ever met. I took a literature class with him titled Survival Stories, which was a nice supplement to my Outdoor Leadership degree. We read three books and countless short stories regarding survival tales and techniques. throughout the term he suggested we took notes on the books and the authors writing styles. The technique worked when I applied it to my reading. Or when I even read.
So. . . Now I am going to start applying that concept to my everyday life. My girlfriend has an amazing best friend who also blogs on this site and I can't help but laugh at her writing style and the things that happens in her life. With the combination of Aaron Lish' directions to TAKE NOTES, and Emily's inspiration to document life as it unfolds. You will hear my triumphs, trageties, and tales of all sorts.
I have noamed my Blog "All these places have their moments," for a reason obviously. The Title comes from a Beatles song entitled "In My Life," a song that my mother sang to me when i was young and as far back as I can remember. The first line of the song is:
"There are places I'll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all."
This is meaningful to me and my life and explains it awesomely.
From here on out I will be Taking Notes.
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