I have always enjoyed warm weather. Actually, I enjoy 'hot' weather. I suppose growing up in the Mississippi river town, East St. Louis in pre-air conditioned 1940's / '50's and playing my sandlot baseball games what else would you do but love the moments in the humid-scorching sun.
Yesterday, I found myself sweating in the 80-plus degree temperatures in Decatur and doing what I do best, getting dirty in God's earth planting my vegetable garden. After about four hours tilling, digging, planting, staking and watering, I thought it would do my heart some good to engage my normal 40-minute walk. Returning from the walk, I sat down on the patio and attempting to ignore the aggravating arthritic lower back pain and general stiffness. My body fatigue was greater than usual and I have come to expect such moments in these advanced years. Does not take much physical exertion now days for me to 'hit-the-wall.' What I did not anticipate was an emotional experience that would come quickly and uninvited.
I shall preface this sharing with my own theory and leave you, the reader, to accept or reject the premise. I believe the combination of old-age sentimentality, physical aches and a song came together for a 'perfect storm.' Here's what happened:
I sat down at the patio table and indulge my one daily beer. Sweat was running from my brow. The CD player switched songs and suddenly the lyrics of the 1950-something song, 'Oh, My Papa' sung by Eddie Fisher blared over the outside speakers. As I listened to the words, I could feel my eyes beginning to swell with warm-tears and it seemed too easy to let my emotional guard down. The tears had their way as they mixed with perspiration to flow down my face.
No one was nearby to see me and until I 'clicked' the publish button on my computer this morning...no one knew of the old man's moment. It's okay and I'm okay. You may wish to put this ONE in your memory-recall file.
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