The Final Quarter

One month from today, I'll be 58. That's just two years away from 60. Ouch! When I was a little kid, I thought of 60 as pretty darned old. Well, I guess we do gain more respect for anything as we step up and view it from a closer proximity. These days, I don't think 60's so bad after all.

With my mounting years, I've gained an uncanny talent for rationalizing. It's just a chronological number. We're as old as we think, and we can even rationalize all the more if we don't look in the mirror too often.

But, I do take time to reflect about how I'm using what quality time I have left in this life. My horse shoer, John Fuller, who's one of the great philosophers I've known over the years, spelled out the proper attitude for folks my age shortly after I retired three years ago. While trimming Casey and Rambo's hooves and tacking on new shoes one day, he told me that he lives by a story a friend had shared with him.

"We're in the final quarter," the friend told him. "We don't have time to waste on Bull Shit." That simple, blunt but startlingly-wise comment related to me by my friend John has stuck with me and guided me since that day. Yes, I'll admit to getting emotionally bogged down from time to time, but when I do, the words of John's friend sound off like a gong in my head. I pick myself up, refocus and move on, trying not to waste a minute.

The other day a Spokeman columnist named Jim Kershner wrote a piece on "Life's Lists." He talked about items accomplished and items yet to do on his life list. One goal he and his wife had completed included viewing America's Grand Canyon.

His piece got me to thinking about my own life list and whether or not I'd clearly defined for myself what needs to happen before the brain and body start disintegrating (which may or may not have already started).

My long-held dream of visiting New Zealand occurred nearly two years ago. Now, that's been replaced with a fervant desire to return to that beautiful country with Bill, Annie, Willie and Debbie. Actually, I'd love to accompany any and all family members to enjoy their reactions as they experience the magic of Kiwi Land.

I've harbored some crazy goals. Once, I used to think it would be fun to figure out a way to remove the power boat that anyone entering Sandpoint could see sitting atop the old marina. Somehow, Ralph Sletager and his crew managed that task when they converted the marina into the Old Powerhouse complex.

I've also dreamed of jumping a freight and riding it at least as far as the next town. As I've grown older and the world around us has gotten a little scarier, however, I'm figuring that's not a good idea unless I have a big strong, trusted man accompanying me on my journey.

The "to-do" list also includes accompanying my husband to New York City. He's never been there. I have, and I think it would be fun to spend a few days wandering the Big Apple sidewalks and taking in all the tourist essentials. There's also Ireland. Any self-respecting Irish person who doesn't have that desire is probably an anomaly. There's the Kentucky Derby, and, speaking of horses, some day, I'd also like to ride horseback for several hundred miles through the back country.

The list goes on. I want to enjoy grandchildren and spend lots of time with my kids as they move on through the adventures of their lives. I've also thought it would be neat to earn my Master's, just for the sense of pride.

Some day, I'd like to have my yard and garden develop into a place of total beauty. I always think of the Butchart Gardens and how a woman with vision turned a blight into one of the most adored and most visited floral shows in the Northwest. That would be a nice accomplishment, on a smaller scale, of course.

During my life, I'd like to meet a real, live President of the United States. In November, 1992, Bill and I stood around the corner inside the White House the day Bill Clinton signed the North American Free Trade Agreement and then flew off in the helicopter to the Southeast Asian Summit. We never actually saw the real man. So, any time President Bush and Laura think they need to join the hordes of folks who've discovered and visited Sandpoint, I'd love to shake their hands.

I'd also like to master patience. Not an easy task for me. My ultimate goal, however, would be to enjoy the total bliss I see in my mother as she appreciates every new day, each member of her family, her precious cats, squirrels and birds and the simple beauty surrounding her peaceful rural home.

If I can develop the positive attitude she has acquired in her final quarter, I shall have done well.