Somewhere in ages and ages hence;
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference".
Robert Frost (1874 - 1965)
As I read this beautiful poetry just now, I was thinking of Waco, Texas and the place where I grew up. Naturally, you say, she thinks of that often. True, but I hope I'm not alone in those thoughts. One of the reasons we reflect on days gone by is due to the experiences we were privileged to live. For some, like me, all good with no ill fated or tainted past histories.
For others, sometimes, the past looms in shades of gray and black with post traumatized days and nights. Childhood for them was not a thing of beauty. It took them into a much darker forest where giant trees loomed and they could safely hide in their lonliness and neglect. You see, for some, their childhood brought feelings of hopelessness, despair and anger.
I took the road that made all the difference...for certain. And, that road was smoothed, made safe and posted with signage all along the way -- guiding me as I grew. Life began in the 'little house on the road'. Small, yet filled with fond memories and funny stories. We grew from there and moved up the little lane which led to the old Freedman homestead.
It was a huge, old country house, sprawling in a terrific yard. The roof was pitched high and made a great target for throwing the infamous rubber baseball. You could have a buddy on the other side and throw over to him/her or you could 'nail' the house repeatedly having it bounce back your way, causing you to scurry to secure it in the old, lifeless baseball glove you held.
Although I was a left handed pitcher, I had to use my brother's old, worn, dark brown leather glove. It would shove far down on my right hand, although it was made to fit on the left hand...nope, didn't fit right, but did I care? Nope. Not at all!
When the ball bouncing ceased to hold interest, my thoughts and bare feet would carry me towards the big, cement bricked white barn. But, I didn't stop there...deflecting to the northeast, a small, dried mud path led past the cow lots and on down the long, sloping hill to the creek!
Ahh, the creek! Beautiful terrain, covered in plush, green grass with a grove of mature Pecan Trees swaying in the August breezes. If you hesitated, plopped in the plush grass and listened, you could hear the leaves rustling in the wind. Once in a while, the squirrels would divert your attention as they jumped and climbed all the trees, chasing, cavorting and living their lives!
Those trees produced papershell pecans like you wouldn't believe and that was the time of year that everyone was our friend and all of our relatives dropped by to (say hello?) THRASH THE PECAN TREES and drive away with a trunk full of gold! We didn't mind.
You see, my folks were two of the most caring and sharing people in Bellmead. Our door was always open and a pot of steeping, black coffee was resting on the stove ready to fill a cup for anyone! Mother and daddy probably drank twelve pots of coffee a day, if not more! It kept them running and it was a natural 'connection' for the two of them!
Think about it...a cup of coffee and some 'down' time when daddy came in from outdoors doing whatever. It provided an opportunity for them to share, communicate, solve crisis, etc. A great time to catch up with each other!
Growing up on a dairy farm had unique differences to the city kids. For one, our daddy (in his young days) woke at 2 a.m. and was milking by 3 a.m. As he grew older, the get up time became later and his rest time during the day more valuable! Mother prepared three meals a day, took care of our home, kept every spec of dust out of our country home (because of my asthma) and on Sundays and Wednesday evening...we all attended church.
Family was what it was all about back then. I'm so thankful for that. There are far too many folks these days who do not slow down long enough to enrich each others lives ... they eat before the television on a tray or they grab fast food on the way! I wouldn't trade my kid days for anything!
What does this have to do with the 'price of eggs' you're wondering? Because of the way my parents reared us and due to the strong character we were steeped in from top to bottom, their influence on my life was strong. They gave direction and encouragement, but waited to see what our final decision would be.
That road I took was long and winding...sometimes, the uphill crawl was challenging, but by this time in life, I'm at the top of life's highway looking back to follow some of my chosen steps. Some of those things, decisions, etc. were, perhaps, not the best for me and my life. However, I made it, standing on these two feet and smile when I think about it all.
What made country life so noteable in my mind? Horses, dogs, acreage, ponds, fishing, swimming, pets of all sizes and shapes, rainbows bending across the 'bottom' after a storm, creeks, exploration, hay in the barn, haystacks, pecan groves, adventure, alure, challenges, excitement, dove season, baby calves, family/friends, cousins, scary movies when we had sleepovers, bus 25 coming 'round the bend, daddy crowding us in that nasty storm celler everytime a dark cloud came up, hayrides for family and friends, cooking out, a still afternoon and more.
Life is a treasure built upon a foundation. Mine was firm. All I had to do was decide on a given day, "ride with a saddle or bareback?" Tough, huh? My personal road had narrowed decisively in the past few years. But, with this surgery and being BANDED...life's back, b a b y!!!!
Think about years gone by and all of the good things that are deep within you. Where did you come from, where did you go and where will you finally land? It's not over, by a long shot!
"I took the one less traveled by,
And THAT has made all the difference".
