The Older I Get

“The older I get, the more I think, you only get a minute, better live while you’re in it, cause it’s gone in a blink.”

Driving back from Denver this week I was struck once again by the spectacular beauty of nature in Colorado. I had checked the webcams at Wolf Creek and the road was clear and the weather apps didn’t show any snowstorms on the way. So I took the scenic route along the mountains and plains. The consensus of the weather folks seems to be that winter is late coming to Colorado this year. Once it sets in I’ll most likely have to go up I-25 and that rolling treeless country isn’t my kind of place. 

I drive through Bailey, one of the prettiest sections of the trip. The narrow road winds along the South Platte River. There are no shoulders on the road there and the forest and the river come up close and wrap you up. I skirt the little towns of Buena Vista and Salida as I go into and out of the Colorado plains. The Arkansas River tumbles along past them. 

In Conifer a big mule deer buck stops traffic as he crosses the highway. A small herd of buffalo graze in a pen near Fairplay. A group of young men wearing football jerseys play a game of football in a ranch pasture beside the river where fly fishermen cast a line back in the summer and early fall. Their jerseys are big, as if they covered shoulder pads on a different field in a different game. They all look like Dallas Cowboy jerseys but whether they are professionals here on a Thanksgiving break, or are fans, or college friends, or family, I can only speculate.  

As I left Denver V-formations of Canadian geese fly over heading to a warmer climate ahead of the cold snows that are surely coming soon. I can hear their honking and am reminded of how much Rickie loved the wild geese. As I pass a high school football field I see it’s covered with them, taking a rest and a feeding break. We used to see them by the millions in the rice fields west of Houston before subdivision after subdivision replaced the flooded fields of rice. 

In the higher elevations there are patches of snow under the trees and the sun dims. A few cars are parked at Kenosha Pass, their occupants off somewhere down the trail. Once I get to Wolf Creek there is more snow. At the summit kids and parents are sledding down the hill. Later in the season snowmobile, cross country skiing, and snowshoe trails will embark from this area but for now the kids have it to themselves. 

It’s been 3 years today since I sat on the deck of the screen porch and held Rickie’s hand as we waited for the formality of the medical examiner’s proclamation. On the Masterpiece series Poldark, Ross says that his mother was the star his father set his course by. Rickie was that to me. Since then I’ve had to set my own course. And it has led me to this beautiful place and here I’ve found a home. As with the ranch, I find I have to keep returning to it when I’m away. It centers me and the loneliness of it comforts me in a way that’s hard to explain unless you are also a person like me. One of the things about losing your best friend at this stage of your life is you realize you’ll never have another best friend. On the rare chance that you should run into someone who maybe has potential to be that friend you don’t have time left to form that bond you had. So in its place you embrace the loneliness of being best friends with a memory. 

All is well when I make it home and the first thing I do is go around and raise the shades to let the sunshine in. No matter the temperature outside this is what I do the first thing every morning. In the same spirit, I try to let the sunshine into my life.

Because the older I get, the more I think, you only get a minute, better live while you’re in it, cause it’s gone in a blink.

Alan Jackson The Older I Get

My granddaughter Lexi introduced me to this song. Click on the link above to hear Alan sing it. 

I Can’t Remeber If We Said Goodbye

“I only miss you every now and then, like a soft breeze blowin’ up from the Carribean. Most Novembers I break down and cry, but I can’t remember if we said goodbye.”

Heard these lines from Steve Earle’s song Goodbye today. November is a month that swings back and forth for me. It’s the month 3 years ago that we began life without Rickie. It was always our favorite time of year. The hot summer heat finally broke for a while, it was hunting season and all the excitement associated with that, and the holidays were coming up with family gatherings and visits. We had some time off from work and from school for the kids, and we spent more time at the ranch than any other time of year. Orion was back in the night sky, the Milky Way was clear and bright, and it was time to put a pot of chili on the stove.



Whenever that first front flows down bringing the north wind, I’m overwhelmed with memories. It feels like a punch in the gut and I try not to double over when it hits. Rickie’s favorite day of the year was the day the first norther blew in. He was very in tune with the natural world and living with him taught me to notice those changes, both big and small.



We had our first snowfall here in Pagosa yesterday. It was snowing when I got up and a few hours later it was gone. But it stayed cloudy and cold all day. I got a fire going in the fireplace and read all day. I’m reading Where They Bury You by Steven Kohlhagen. His wife, an author in her own right, is in the dog walkers group that I’ve been welcomed into here. We walk dogs each week at the animal shelter then we go to lunch. The book is set in the New Mexico and Arizona territories during the Civil War days. It’s interesting and I’m learning some history of my new part of the country.



The last two weeks I’ve been trying to get some things done before the real winter weather settles in. I hired a fella to come haul some old wood and junk off and to take down an old greenhouse frame. He never showed up and the other bid I got to do it from someone else was more than I was comfortable spending. So I cleaned the junk area up and then took the geeenhouse down myself.



One day I went up to the tree line and did some trimming. I found a little 2’ tall Douglas fir there. This was Grandma Hattie’s favorite kind of Christmas tree; in fact the only kind she would have. I can remember taking her to the store to pick one out. I hope I can dig it up and transplant it in the yard for Bixby. We like to have trees for people in our family. Then he can decorate it every year for Christmas.

I found a deer trail leading up into the woods. Once the bears go to sleep I’ll explore it. I haven’t been back there yet. Rickie would have already been up there and mapped it out! I’m feeling a little bad I’ve let it go so long.



A longtime friend of mine from Houston was out a couple of weeks ago. We rode the train from Durango to Silverton one day and went horsebacking riding another day. The weather was beautiful, the leaves had changed, and it was good to have adventures with an old friend. They are few these days, old friends, and to be treasured.



I made a trip to Houston the end of September for my granddaughter’s wedding. It’s a priceless gift in life, this starting off on a new adventure together. That feeling of everything being new. I wish Rickie could have been there, and maybe he was. Because we were there, those of us who love Natalie and Austin. And we carry him with us. Maybe that’s why I never said goodbye.