Great Opportunities

By G. E. Shuman

Memories are funny things. Of course, some are much funnier than others, but they are all funny, or more precisely, interesting, in how they effect our thinking. Recently I have been thinking of memories which are not exactly mine, but ones related to me by my parents. Here, particularly, by my dear mother. Over the nearly fifty four years of my life I have heard many stories told to me by Mom, about her family, and her childhood. I recall, almost as if the occurrences had been mine, memories she has of growing up on a farm in the small town of Oakland Maine. I, too, grew up in Oakland, and have my own memories, but what I want to relate to you are bits of hers.

Without going into great detail, let me just tell you that Mom’s memories of her childhood are wonderful ones. They are of that farm, and the great times she had there. They are of her father and mother, her siblings, the animals, and the big old barn. They are of Grampy Fuller’s rural mail route, which he actually traversed with a horse-drawn sleigh in winter. Mom remembers things like what her father had for breakfast every morning, and the big black wood-fired kitchen stove it was cooked on. She remembers milking the cows, and jumping in haystacks. She remembers going to church, and Sunday family dinners. She remembers, mostly, the wonderful relationships she had with her folks and her brothers and sisters. To me, it is most amazing that these are the things Mom thinks of when she remembers her childhood. Times were pretty tough in the nineteen twenties and thirties, we are told by the historians. But such tough times have never been told to me by my mother. Although her family had little then, compared to what we have today, her thoughts are very positive, and contain the beautiful things her mother crocheted, including an elaborate bedspread that Mom still has. Her memories include conversations with her sisters, and times shared with other relatives. They are of weekend teen-age visits by my father, her one and only beau, who would, one day, become her husband of over fifty seven years. I especially remember Mom’s tale of one such evening visit with Dad. Gramp Fuller simply put a single log on the fire, and headed to bed, leaving Mom and Dad alone in the living room. Gramp’s comment to my father, while leaving the room, was simply: “When that goes out, go home.“ Mom is the first to say that her family didn’t do certain things. They didn’t swim on Sunday. Sunday is The Lord’s day; a day of rest, and this was, then, truly a Christian nation. (That statement may offend some readers. To me, the fact that it even could offend is no compliment to the direction we have taken as a people.) Mom’s family never went to restaurants, and took no expensive vacations. “People just didn’t do those things, in those days.” Mom would say. They did listen to night time radio shows together, played games, read, ate together, and actually talked to one another. How times have changed.

Today our country faces some great challenges. One is that we are the seeming victims of the whims of the oil rich nations of the world. Unless things soon change, many of us will not be able to afford the costs we must pay to maintain our present lifestyles. Our large vehicles love to consume lots of expensive fuel, as you know. Our large homes, likewise. Fuel bills are doubling, and that is just this year. Next year will likely be even worse. Many people find themselves doing whatever is possible to conserve fuel, including sacrificially combining trips to the mall and the kid’s soccer games with those to the supermarket. Gee. Vacations to far away destinations are being put off, or cancelled altogether. Plans to buy that new four wheeler, or trade in the boat or motorcycle have gone up in thoughts of the future smoke of our home’s oil burner. And we feel very sorry for ourselves, and timid of what the coming years may hold for us and our children. We simply want it all. And why not? We are used to having it all. I thought of this moments ago, as my refrigerator door effortlessly dispensed clean cold water into my glass, ice included. I thought little of the fact that half of the world’s population has no access to clean water at all, to say nothing of ice. I thought even less of the blessing the food behind that refrigerator door really is.

It is true that these days most American families take much for granted, and have somehow drifted apart. Many rarely even have dinners together, as each family member has his own stuff to do, and that is so very important to us. Some parents and children in our great country hardly converse at all, unless by cell phone. But we still want to be ABLE to have family dinners, and chat, and enjoy each other‘s company, if the precious time ever arises. Friends, it is my opinion that the time may soon BE arising.

Lorna and I have already discussed how our lifestyle may be slowly changing by the impossible to control economic situations around us. If prices go even higher, the days of long and distant trips may be things of the past for us. We will likely spend next winter right here, at home, minding the fire, and just being with the kids. You know, somehow, that doesn’t seem so bad to me. In fact, the hard-to-swallow pill of being forced back to the basics may ultimately be just the medicine our overly materialistic society needs. But doing with less seems like going backward to Americans, and we hate that idea. I think we should remember that when you are at the edge of a cliff, going backward is not necessarily heading in the wrong direction. My family will likely never spend winter evenings listening to the radio, but popcorn and a movie by the fire on a cold night can be a lot of fun. Maybe I will even let the kids teach me a few board games. Anyway, thanks for the memories, Mom. Recalling the simple family fun your generation had years ago may be just the lesson that my generation, and the members of my children’s and grandchildren’s generations need. As you know better than any other person on earth, my Dad had many wonderful and wise little sayings he would just come out with from time to time, precisely when we needed to hear them most. If you don’t mind, Mom, I would like to share my favorite one with the thousands of readers who visit this column. Quoted by Lyell A. Shuman: “We are all faced with a series of great opportunities… brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” Right now, all Americans may be facing the greatest opportunities of our lives.

Enjoy Life and Live Life Abundantly

Life Is Change

By G. E. Shuman

It was about four thirty last Sunday afternoon, and Lorna, the kids, and I were in my little gas-sipping car, heading home to Vermont from a visit to central Maine. The weekend had been a busy one. We had headed out Saturday morning to attend the wedding of a good friend, the mother of one of our sons in law, in Livermore Falls Maine. The wedding had been very relaxing and enjoyable. I’m not usually a ‘wedding’ person, so this was nice for me. It was good to see Adam’s mom, as she committed herself to her new husband, and simply allowed her life to take a wonderful new direction. This was only the first of several events of change that Lorna and I soon realized we were a part of on this nice weekend.

Saturday night we had driven to my sister’s home in Waterville, for a great visit with Barb and her husband Art, and my Mom, who is staying with them for the summer. We have stayed in Barb and Art’s home many times, but this visit felt a bit different to me than the others had. You see, their beautiful home is in the process of being sold, and, if all goes as scheduled, will likely be demolished and replaced by a new business before the summer is over. My sister and her husband probably entertained us for the final time at their present home, last weekend. They are strong people, who, I’m sure, will sail through this change with no whining at all, unlike the fits that would take place here, if it were all happening to me.

While we were in Waterville, we discussed with Mom the idea that my much older brother, Steve, (Okay, so he’s only a few years older.) who has lived his entire life in Maine, would probably soon make a big change, and move his family to Florida. Maine winters are becoming just too much for my frail old brother to tolerate. (Sorry, Steve. Just kidding. The fact is, I‘m pretty jealous.) That conversation led to talk of the seasons, and how they also had so quickly changed. Winter is not long past, but fields of white have been replaced by a seeming explosion of green across New England this year. We also discussed my younger sister’s move to a new apartment, and how her life had recently changed. We were visited briefly by my younger brother and his great family, and the changes in his growing kids were quite apparent. We all talked about our son Andrew, his upcoming eighth grade graduation, and the change that high school will be for him. We boasted a bit, or maybe a bit more than a bit, to Mom and my sibs, about Andrew’s towering basketball skills and Emily’s status on the high honor roll. We bragged about the changes we have already witnessed in our wonderful new granddaughter, Ayvah. On Sunday afternoon we visited with Lorna’s Mom and her husband, and noticed other, positive changes in them too.

When my family travels by car, especially when we travel home from such a visit with relatives, Lorna and I tend to spend much of the time discussing what we have just done, where we have just been. We sort of chew over things happening in our loved ones lives, often with long pauses between sentences, as we emotionally digest the many changes we have seen.

And so, we traveled from Waterville, down the highway to Portland, and Portsmouth, and then to Manchester to see Cathy and her family for just an hour or so. We then headed on the two hour trip home to Barre, which gave us even more time to talk. We certainly went over all of the family changes mentioned above, and chatted about how they would affect our lives too. We discussed, after once more filling my little car up with the liquid gold it requires, this great energy turmoil our world seems to be in. We saw gas prices as high as $4.08 along the way. We talked about other changes, including the upcoming presidential election, more about the kids, and college, and our own future plans.

In all of this, my dear wife of thirty five years and I sifted through many of life’s possibilities, certainties, and options. It was Lorna who, somewhere along the way, made the profound observation that life really is all about change. In fact, life IS change, if you think about it. Little Ayvah, just three months old, was already working on her own changes, as she smiled widely for us, for the first time last Sunday.

And suddenly the day itself was changing. The night grew upon us on the long ride home. As the sun set, I began to wonder about our observations of all the changes we had seen, in just two days. The sun continued to abandon this, another day that I could never do over, make better or worse, or share again with those people I love so much. Lorna was right, as she tends to be more often than I give her credit for. Life itself really is change. Call it coincidence or not, that as we were leaving Waterville, we noticed the sign in a local churchyard, advertising the pastor’s upcoming sermon. The sign said: “The only people who like change are wet babies.” To me that is funny, but more profound in its timing for us, than funny.

One of my favorite, anonymous quotes is one I have shared several times over the years. It speaks to life, to missed opportunities, to spiritual decisions, and to our possible reactions to change: “It is not possible to go back and make a brand new beginning. It is possible to start from today, and make a brand new ending.” I really wish I had written that one myself.