Reminisces with Father (and) Time

The other day Dad and I took a long walk where we reflected upon life and such. He spoke again of his dream of moving to a little cottage tucked away in an old fishing town with a yard and a dog. Where he could take long walks with his dog, hang out with other salt-of-the-earth folks and — most joyfully — go fishing.

All these things are deeply ingrained within; I saw it in his father as well. Grandpa lived in a quaint home by the sea that was within walking distance of his fishing spot. He’d consort with fellow souls and they’d share stories through the hours.

Like father, like son — and beyond unto generations of our past whose sweat and blood sang that song of old Florida.

I encouraged him to move forward on his dream; to rekindle that fire and make it happen. I reminded him he was getting close to knocking on the door of his twilight years.

Waiting for the right time or opportunity would be a sorrowful delusion because time itself is a most wily deceiver. It would fly by so fast he’d wonder where it all went and by then it would be too late.

I urged him to head off those final gates of regret, to tear down those moving goalposts and set a hard move-by-this-date deadline, using the example of when I terminated the lease on my cabin to force me out into the nomad life.

I know he heard me (and has for quite sometime), so will he finally make haste? Who knows. He can be a stubborn sort; I know this because I’ve inherited the same trait that’s sometimes maddening and yet endearing. He is a man of his own time.

Meanwhile, I’ll carry on whispering of his dreams on our ongoing walks as a subtle reminder.

I’ll dream for him too — the dream of seeing his soul sing to the tune of a life drifting into sunsets in his little boat with an ever faithful dog at his side, and of course, a fishing pole tugging in the breeze.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Mark Twain

By Ray

writer / shutterbug / wanderer / lifelong entrepreneur / reiki master / oral deaf / zigs when others zag / nature lover who kayaks to work ; )
Currently wandering full time in a tiny camper around the continent and sharing the journey along the way.

20 replies on “Reminisces with Father (and) Time”

Lovely sentiment. Loving example. Wonderfully poignant moment of sweet kinship. I sure do love you fellas and am inspired by your hearty relationship. And great advice for us all to apply to our own dreams. Take action!

I hear you, @RobertFrench. I looked at your blog, it looks like you’re already doing a lot! Great idea to travel for breweries. It’s the journey that counts, not the the destination…so as long as you’re on the journey it’s all that matters, time be damned. All the best!

@solari About 5 years ago, I took my remaining, octogenarian grandfather on what will certainly be his last roadtrip—to Baltimore for my cousin’s wedding. What began as a simple “I’d like to spend some more time with my grandfather—and make sure he can be at my cousin’s wedding” turned into so much more and became so much more meaningful along the way, as he shared stories and we had adventures together.

@solari I want to travel and explore (preferably off the beaten path) and in some ways I’m already doing it. Your post hits close to home because it’s almost a year since my dad passed away and I still find or recall unfinished projects or things we were working on together.

@oyam It was. We also took a day trip down to Washington (he’d never been), showed him the World War II Memorial (and Korea, Vietnam, and Lincoln), drove past the main gates of Georgetown, and had lunch at the German restaurant (one of his grandmothers was German) a block up the street from where I used to live.

@solari Yes, and it helped me convince him to write his life story for us. I have 20 or so handwritten pages, covering the first ~25 years of his life (up to the point at which my mom and aunt would know the major details, even if they didn’t remember them personally).

Hi Raymond, now after eight class a motor homes, I finally uncovered, after almost 40 years, that all I needed was a place to sleep, eat and use the john. So I just took delivery on a 2017, 13 foot Scamp which I havent enjoyed yet. My wife thinks Im crazy and maybe I am, but after surviving Korea in the Marine Corp, Nom in the Air Force, 5 years in college without every seeing the inside of a high school, 30 years with General Motors, 3 wives and reaching the age of 81, I am finally ready to enjoy the outside life that I love. I find your stories to be very uplifting. Thank you very much.

Lucas, that’s amazing and inspiring! And yes, crazy but so worth it. I’m very glad I took the leap because it’s added an extra dimension to life and furthered my connection to nature. I’m going to show my Dad your post because he just hit his 70s and I want him to know that he can still do fun stuff like you are.

Props, sir! And thank you for your service.

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