Good Morning,
It has been very long time since last I posted on this blog. Think it was 2017! Reading over the last one on a whim was amazed that I was worrying about, or at least mentioned, that I would be turning 71 years of age. Well, now the three quarter century mark passed me by in February!
This aging thing really slips up on you. In your 60s (especially the early ones) the thinking is that you have a lot of time left. Of course you take passing note of the number of famous folks that have started dying in their middle to late sixties. However, once the 70s hit, there is a marked increase in those "passing on." Your antenna takes note.
In my case the fairly recent, and unexpected death of my good friend, and ranger colleague Bob Hoyle at 75 years of age in 2019 was another "wake-up call." Granted he had always been rather sickly, at least as long as I had known him.
I was no longer a ranger but we had planned our 9th trip to Glacier Park for mid-June, 2019. I had reserved lodges within the park. His responsibility, as was our usual arrangement, for those outside the park to include his favorite, the Isaak Walton Inn. When I arrived at Teton Park he was ill having just gotten over pneumonia. I asked if he wanted to cancel; his reply was in the negative. We proceeded to Bozeman the next day where he spent the whole balance of the day in the motel room. The next day was to be at the aforementioned Inn. He was a bit better. He always perked up around trains, and the Inn is an old railroad hotel. The next two days were in the park. First of which he slept most of day and night in our room at Like MacDonald. At the Many Glacier Hotel he rallied some and was able to sit in the lodge by the fire. We bot loved this old hotel. Again, another RR tie in, built by the Great Northern.
To make this blog a bit more ominous for me is that I can not stop thinking about at least three important folks in my life who have passed on at the age of 75. First of those was Dad. Although we were never very close he was my father and I was there at his death with my sister Norma. Second was my good friend and mentor at Yavapai College, John Haynes. He too left this existence at that age. Now there is Bob!
Have been told by at least one of my daughters that I seem to be somewhat pre-occupied with my demise. That may be true. The thing about turning 70, much less being 75, is that it was the first time I began thinking about my mortality. As stated above, even in your 60s you believe there is still plenty of time (even though that may be an illusion). Once you hit the that seventh decade you realize the greatest part of your life is as Crosby, Stills and Nash said, "the past is just a goodbye."
Did not mean for this latest blog to seem like a "downer," just wanted to put some thoughts down in writing. I am not depressed, as one reader years ago replied. Am just reflecting on my life and departed friends. After all, we made it through the pandemic, at least it looks like that so far.
Cheers!