Quiet Reflection and the Future

This may sound awkward.  Sort of strange.  But I love listening and focusing on things when it is totally quiet.  For example, I love walking to the shower house in the morning and listening to my footsteps on the gravel and hearing my shoes crunch the grass.  I love turning on the shower and listening to the hiss of the water coming out of the shower and the water as it taps against the concrete floor.  Being alone so often sharpens the senses and allows me to focus and appreciate the very small things.  I love the chirping of the frogs by the lake at night, and the owls, and the birds in the morning.  It calms and soothes me.  It makes me reflect often.

Today I had one of those experiences.  When I arrived at the camper, a "neighbor" was mowing his grass.  (He probably has the second cleanest camper in the campground, next to me.)  As I was cooking some turkey burgers on the grill, I stopped and watched J.R. slowly push the mower along perfect straight lines.  He was in no hurry.  Sort of like he was creating a masterpiece, in the grass, like da Vinci painting, or Mark Twain writing.  J.R. can't move fast.  He is elderly and his feet hurt.  He is very fit for his age.  He is slim and you can tell he used to be really toned and muscular.  As I watched J.R., I wondered about what he was like when he used to play football in his youth.  I wondered how he was before his wife lost touch with reality and then divorced him and took his life-savings.  I wondered how he dealt with some of the disappointments he has experienced with his children.  I wondered what he was like when he was wealthy.  I wondered if he is truly happy.

Watching J.R. made me think of my dad, and my granddad.  Watching J.R. from a distance, lost in the constant hum of the lawn mower, made me think of my life and how time is going so fast.  Soon, I will have grandkids and I wonder what they will think of me.  Will they see a person like old J.R. slowly pushing a lawn mower that has lost everything he has ever gained and not recovered half of what he used to have?  Will they not care because they know I love them?  Will I get to the point I am just happy to mow the lawn or will I always wish that I had made more of an impact on those around me?

I don't know.  I wish I knew what was next.  But for now, I will enjoy listening to my footsteps as I walk to the shower house and listen to the hiss of the shower in the cold mornings. And reflect.  And I will wonder about the future and what is next.