Perspective

One of the great things about this country is that our collective way of life isn't one single way of life at all, but rather a vast collage of diverse landscapes for all kinds of people. What people in one area of the country may take for granted, others may be desperate for. Some look out a window and see green meadows. Some look out a window and see paved streets and sidewalks. Others still look out and see tall, brick buildings with rows of glass paned windows that the occupants within see the rest of the world through.

When I rise in the morning I descend down a flight of stairs that bring me to my living room, where I pause to look outside to see what the weather might hold for the day. I see houses across the street. Some have porches, some not, and most have flowers or shrubs in front to greet neighbors and passersby. My village is small, with a population of just over 2,000 residents. It's quiet, quaint and friendly, and I really like living here. That's my choice, and my privilege.

I like that it has the necessities such as a bank, post office, small grocery store and a few shops. I like that it's small enough to walk from end to end and everything in between, and that I feel safe doing so. In the center of town there is a park and tennis courts for recreation. There is also a stream with small waterfalls that has sidewalks alongside it. Just outside town there are farms that grow crops and pastures where dairy cows graze.

A short drive away lies a city of 225,000 people with all the restaurants, stores and recreation I could want. All kinds of cuisines are available in all price ranges to please most any palate, and cultural events abound. I'm also in the heart of the Finger Lakes so there are an abundance of outdoor activities to keep me busy, and the many area wineries aren't hard to take either!

Some people choose to live differently however. Sitting here in south central Florida while visiting a dear friend who happens to live on an orange grove and ranch, I can't help but be aware of how much bearing the weather can have on one's livelihood. Here they have had a very dry spring this year, which means the sprinkler systems have to be run in the groves, and that costs money, which cuts into profits. There was also a frost last winter, which can cut yields and affect the quality of the fruit, or destroy the crop altogether. The ponds that the livestock drink from dry up too.

Life is very different here than at home, the weather notwithstanding. Even a small store is 30 minutes away so you don't want to run out of anything important, unless of course you have plenty of gas in your vehicle and more than a few minutes to get there, get what you need and get back home. My friend not only lives on a dirt road, but the next road is dirt too. You have to go two roads over to see pavement. Not my cup of tea, but visiting is always an adventure and a refreshing change of pace.

It's beautiful too. And you seldom hear a sound around here, from neighbors that is. Because there are no neighbors. You can sleep peacefully at night and enjoy the scenery during the day. I tell my friend often that this is like "another world." It really is like another world. One where land isn't spoiled by "progress" and fences are there to keep the animals in, not keep intruders out. One where respect for people and property still exists. And I really like it here too.

Ben and Anthony

Reflection

Wow! It's been awhile since I've posted anything and I need to catch up. When I last wrote my daughter had just left to begin her junior year in college and now that year is over! The puppy is a year old and I seriously think she is afflicted with some kind of hyperactivity disorder. On the other hand I may just be too old and cranky for puppy-rearing.
Sooo much has happened over the past year that it's hard to know where to begin, but begin I shall. Fall of 2010 went by pretty uneventfully, with a pleasant Thanksgiving and family and friends to celebrate the holidays with. The new year however brought with it a tidal wave of change and upheaval, and a truckload of sorrow to go with it.
On the morning of January 1st, 2011 I got a phone call informing me that my nephew (who was also my godson) had been stabbed several times and was airlifted to a hospital 50 miles away. Doctors there had performed emergency surgery and he was probably going to be okay they said. He did survive the assault and I brought him home with me when he was released from the hospital to recover, along with his 3 year old son.
My nephew's mother and I have been dear friends for 35 years so when she flew up from Florida, she stayed with me too. We hadn't seen each other for some years, partly because of the distance between us, and partly because we've been guilty of that "there's always next year" mentality. My beloved nephew Ben ended that black hole of time that had separated his mother and I for so long. And I will forever be grateful for that.
Before my friend left to go home that week we agreed that we would never let that much time go by without getting together again. By early March I had booked a flight to Florida to visit her. I flew in on a Saturday morning and we made all kinds of plans for how we would spend the week together. We had a wonderful dinner cooked over an open fire and afterward we sat around to relax and visit.
Later that night our plans, and our lives changed in a way we never could have imagined. My dear friend got a phone call and the next thing I knew, we were on the floor as she began to utter cries and groans, the likes of which only a mother who has lost a child could even begin to understand. Her eldest child, Ben, had died that night of a drug overdose. And I was there. It was the saddest thing I have ever seen or felt.
I still miss the way he looked at me, he could see into your soul, and he trusted me. He trusted people, but most of all he loved people. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and I miss that too. I talk to his mother on the phone almost daily now.