Someone asked me if I missed the holidays of my childhood. Sure, who
doesn't remember those halcyon days with melancholy and joy. The house
was decorated, there was a lot of cooking in the days leading up to the
holiday and for days after, the smell of home cooking lingered in the
air.
At the time, I didn't enjoy those gatherings very much
because the house was packed with about thirty friends and relatives,
some I didn't know. They got in the way (and in my stuff) of my
routine, practice and work. It was difficult for me to take a day off
back in those days so holidays were almost traumatic for me, a
workaholic.
What I do miss is the joy and care my mother put
into the holidays with the decorations and all that cooking. Both my
sisters were married with four kids each and all those people meant more
food, more noise, more chaos and long hours. That was something my
mother thrived on.
After my two sisters became Jehovah's
Witnesses and my brother married and moved away, it was just my mother
and me on those holy days. At this point she was very ill with COPD.
On her last Thanksgiving, she cooked up a feast as always and it was
just my mom and me. I took the dog for a walk after the meal and clean
up and we walked down by the lake and past a neighbor's house where I
saw in the window that there were about 20 people inside and it reminded
me what our holidays were like. I wasn't sad that I wasn't embroiled
in a sea of relatives but, sad that my mother and all she loved was
fading away.
As I walked around the lake I remembered how when I
was about ten, the older kids ruled the lake, the dyke, the dam, the
docks and I looked up to them in awe, respect and fear. Then when I was
an older teen, I realized that I along with my friends ruled the lake.
I recently met someone who now lives on the lake and I realized that
other young people now rule the lake, maybe. I have heard that the lake
association closed all the swimming holes by dumping rocks on the
beaches, putting up barricades so no one can park on the side of the
street and fencing off the dyke. This wondrous place for a kid to grow
up is now off limits but I guess that is okay. Kids today have Facebook
and the internet to explore their worlds and interact with people.
Nothing
is so good it lasts eternally. Perfect situations must go wrong.
There are some facts about life which no one can escape; That life is
short and almost always ends messily; that no one thinks as well of you
as you do yourself; that in one or two generations from now you will be
forgotten entirely and that the world will go on as if you had never
existed. Another fact is that to survive and prosper in this world, you
have to do so at someone else's expense or do things that are not
pleasant to face.
One of these gifts that we enjoy is freedom
but it comes at the cost of the innocents murdered in the aerial bombing
of Europe and the final bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. And not just
the bombings. It's also an unpleasant fact that we are alive and well
because the generation before us killed people with bullets, shells,
bayonets, or knives, if not in Germany, Italy, or Japan, then Korea or
Vietnam. Our politicians have connived at murder and war, and we enjoy
the freedom for it today. The truth is that if we get what we want, it
turns out not to be the thing we wanted, or at least at the cost.
I hope we remember that.
Musician Malcolm Kogut has been tickling the ivories since he was 14 and won the NPM DMMD Musician of the Year award in 99. He has CDs along with many published books. Malcolm played in the pit for many Broadway touring shows. When away from the keyboard, he loves exploring the nooks, crannies and arresting beauty of the Adirondack Mountains, battling gravity on the ski slopes and roller coasters.
Showing posts with label age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label age. Show all posts
Monday, March 9, 2015
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