I received a call from one of my sons this afternoon. It wasn’t for the usual reasons - borrow tools, money or throw bail. Instead it was to go hunting/help. The help part was to carry part of a stand down one hill, across a couple of acres of cane briars and then up another hill. Nothing is free, not even hunting.
Laying propped up against the trunk of a cedar, watching him fasten the
narrow one shoe width ladder to the side of the tree with pieces of chain
that were no doubt worn out rusted rejects from a child swing set, I
marveled how things change with age.
In my younger days, when I too was immortal, I had no fear of heights. I’ve
had deer stands that the only thing that kept me from sliding off was how
good a grip my butt had on a nail head. In my military days, I used to, well
anyway, sometime around forty, I lost my guts. I lost them to the point I
can’t even clean the gutters while sitting down on the roof and I don’t know
why. There was no traumatic event. No falls that bring on nightmares and
such. Nothing. Just one day I looked down and started grabbing for something
to hold on to.
He swung out and around the side of the limbless trunk of a sweet gum tree,
onto a hanging stand and began bouncing up and down on it to see if it would
hold. Better him than me. He still has the illusion of immortality given
only to the young or the drunk.
He scampered down the side of the tree and said “Ok. It’ll hold. When I was little, I was always amazed at the way you bounced around in trees. You know I still remember when I was only about 6 and you came out of a pecan swinging down from limb to limb barely touching each one before dropping to the next. I was so amazed. I wanted to be able to do that, just like you.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that I too remember that feat. But my memory is
a little different than his. It was more like desperation grasps at limbs
that I passed as I fell in vain attempts to slow down. Funny, he doesn’t
even remember me laying there trying to get air back into my lungs.
He eyed the stand with it's commanding view of the area and said “ I’m going
down in the swamp, you take this stand” He left as I stood there wondering
whether to say anything or not. It’s not a easy thing to tell your son
you’ve lost your nerve. As he climbed the hill, I started up the ladder. As
he topped the hill, I started down the ladder. I found me a nice spot on a
nearby ridge and set out the day. One of these days, I’ll tell him. When he
is mortal like me.
© LCM3 2003
© LCM3
Rimfire at Idlehourwebs dot com