hITTINg hOMe
My life list
A long life is good. But a good life is better
By DaLe niXon
November 13th is my birthday, and it’s
a BIG ONE. It’s so big I have to finally admit to myself that I’m, well, old. I’m pretty sure I’ve used that phrase before, so for this birthday I will say, I’m, well, older.
Now, don’t worry. I’m not going to write a column on “You know you’re old when . . .” That’s just downright depressing. Instead, I’m going to take a positive approach and focus on what has made me happy as I have traveled the path known as life. There is no particular order to my list because my thoughts and memories do come and go . . . Now, what was I going to write about? Oh, yeah: A Happy List of My Long Life. My first pair of eyeglasses. They were white “cat eyes” embellished with rhinestones. When the optometrist slipped them on me, my fuzzy world came into focus. I could read the blackboard from the back row at school, and I realized for the first time how beautiful my mother really was. The day Daddy surprised me with a pair of Bass Weejuns. They were over the top. He selected red. They were way over the top for the household budget. I wore them until the shoe repair man said they couldn’t be resoled anymore. Watching my grandfather as he rocked in a rocker on his front porch and whittled on a gum tree bough. Later, the whittled “brush” would be used by him to dip his snuff. Watching my grandmother knead dough for biscuits and shaping them into a perfect shape with her hands. The first time I held my baby brother and baby sister in my arms. The first time I held my two daughters in my arms. Going deep-sea fishing and catching a 135-pound tarpon and reeling
it in all by myself. The year it snowed five Wednesdays in a row (1960) and we missed so much school we had to make up our time on Saturdays. It was a little bit of school and a whole lot of fun. Knowing and singing all of the words to old gospel hymns at our little Baptist church. The times I heard my mother sing. And heard my daddy play violin. Each time I watched my daughters perform in a play, a recital or in the band. Dancing with my husband; dancing by myself. The year I found 100 sand dollars in the surf at Sunset Beach. Falls spent in the mountains. Summers spent at the beach. Growing up in and loving my hometown of Concord, N.C., and cherishing Pinehurst, N.C., as my retreat. My first airplane flight, dressed in my Sunday best. Picnics. Fireflies. Kites. Swings. Finding a perfect pen. The first cup of coffee in the morning. The first glass of wine at night. Being with someone who makes me laugh until I cry. Falling in love. Having my house all to myself. Filling my house with family and friends. I can reach out and touch the good memories of days gone by. The bad years have blurred in my mind and although I am older, this list of memories will always keep me young. Now, what was I going to say? Oh yeah, Happy Birthday to me. PS Columnist Dale Nixon may be contacted at dalenixon@carolina.rr.com.
PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .November 2013 27