OH MaY!

OH MaY!

By John W. Vander Velden

 

May can sneak up on a guy.  Here we are endlessly mowing our yards even before we have properly put the snow shovels away.   As a farmer, May has its own hectic significance.  You would think that as I enter my 46th season a rhythm would exist...well yes and no.  Yes, there is a constant sequence of tasks, but things never go as planned.

But everyone faces a bit of insanity as the year marches on, and May certainly is not exempt, for even as the days grow longer, our "to do" list swell.  Flower beds need preparation, the gutters must be cleaned, again.  We gather up hundreds of sticks and twigs that decorate the lawn. Winter's grime needs to be removed from our windows, the grass is always too tall, and the dust bunnies have been breeding like rabbits.

And if all the regular thing were not enough, there are those special events that seem to pop up.  The last 78 things to plan for a June wedding or completing the details of a grad party...been there, done that...hmmmph.  A guy can get tired just thinkin' 'bout it.

Summer is coming and there is just so much to do.  It seems too often we are just “chasing our tail”, as each day we race after unending obligations while reaching toward opportunities we watch slipping away.  Whoa…take a breath…and another.  The world roars on whether we have dandelions in our yard or not.  Time to balance things, or at least prioritize.  Attack the things that need to be done, but allow yourself a bit of time for the things you enjoy doing.  Take care of today…it has plenty…rather than focusing on tomorrow and the days after.  When you reach day’s end, look back at what you have accomplished, trying not to dwell on the unfinished. 

It’s May and though we find ourselves busy it offers the special days of full spring.  We cannot allow “things to be done” to overshadow the damp freshness of the world that surrounds us, or let the roar of the lawnmower mask the Robin’s call.  Find ourselves so focused on errant weeds that we cannot see the flowers that bloom in red, blue and yellow, or to permit the odor of cleaning solution to separate us from the fresh scent of the lilacs. Yes, there is so much to do, but it’s oh my…May, and May is a wonderful time!

(405 Words)

To Honor

To Honor

By John W. Vander Velden

I walked on a rolling green perfectly mowed space with line upon line of limestone markers.  It was a beautiful spring day, when in breathless awe I stood in Arlington National Cemetery.  The rows of tablets carved with names, ranks, and dates, simple symbols of the thousands who considered the worth of my freedom greater than the value of their lives.  My eyes teared at the thought of so
many lives cut short, those that gave their all. 

And we that stand spared, how do we honor them?  Too easily we turn away from our duty to protect the weak, the oppressed.  Too easily we take our privileged freedoms for granted.  Too easily we put out of our minds the names and faces of the men and women that stood in our stead and faced fear head on, those that came home changed, and those that did not return.  Should we not take time to remember?  Are not among them kin, and neighbor?  Have we forgotten the “others” that shared in the cost, the loved ones of the injured and fallen, those that stood silently in the shadows, yet bear heavy burdens as well?

Surely in a perfect world there would be no need…no need for the sacrifice…no need for the remembering.  But this world is not perfect, and time and time again blood demanded, lives stolen, such a high price set that must be paid.  The bugle’s melancholy notes honor those that have earned their rest.  Let us remember the reason the flag flies mid pole.  And allow the remembering to shape our lives so that we stand boldly for what is right and true.  Today we are reminded, we must live to honor them.  Uphold the high standards they fought to protect, justice and honor, respect and understanding, truth and equality.

One day insufficient, the parades and ceremonies, of themselves, not enough.  Until the day comes when all wars cease, we must remember them, and live each day to honor them.

(333 Words)  5-21-2015

The Torch Passed

The Torch Passed

By John W. Vander Velden

There are events burned into our essence, brands we carry for the remainder of our lives, and among them, for most, is the passing of the torch.  For when the torch is passed, all is changed.  It is a dramatic instant, a life altering event.  Though facts known – strength – mortality -- the reality of it seems distant, lurking in the mist, beyond our reach out of our thoughts, and when the moment arrives, we are never prepared. 

The torch is held out to us and as we grasp the flame, for the briefest of instants an equality exists, for only then the heavy burden is shared.  The instant vaporizes as we fold our fingers, firmly grasping the flame for the first time, and the time has come for us to carry the torch alone. Some may yearn to feel the heat of that flame so near.  Some will turn away from that bright light and the obligations demanded.  And some know they are not ready, understanding their weakness, and yet, ready or not, do their best to grasp the torch held out to them.

I was deeply wounded by the fire when it came to my hands.  A time the flame seemed to burn low, nearly extinguished, dropped at my feet, and none other could step forward.  It was not my fingers singed that morning, but my heart.  Even today, after ten years, those unhealed scars remain, as day by day I carry the fire.  I know the flaming beacon is but loaned to me for an interval, for the torch belongs to time eternal.  I recognize the privilege, the honor in the obligation, and understand one day I will leave it for another to carry.  I only hope that I do the “fire” justice as I transport it on this part of its journey, as proudly, above my head, I carry the torch passed.

(315 Words)                5-18-2015

The World Reawakened

The World Reawakened

By John W. Vander Velden                          

The snow, the blowing and drifting snow, the pristine pure white that melted into gray mushy snow, has become a memory, another winter in my past.  The world about me is changing.  Yesterday’s rain has left its traces.  The dreary gray clouds blown aside as the sun shines down from a sapphire sky, filling the tiny drops that yet remain with diamond fire.  The sparkles blaze brightest from the drops that cling on the butter yellow petals of my daffodils.  I am surrounded by the fresh and new, infinite shades of green, the grass at my feet and the brand new leaves on every tree.  Flowers in bed and roadside, pink, white, and blue, all around vivid colors replace the dull tones of grays and browns that have been revealed by the snow’s retreat.  The song of the Blue Bird floats upon the breeze scented with the lilacs that bloom across the road. 

The day’s glory draws me away from my labors, a few moments must be spared, a walk of leisure, a time immersed within a world so alive, reminds of days past and prepares for days yet to come.  Overcome I whistle, a tune that forms within, stirred by the beauty that surrounds, notes clear and loud that mingle with the Blue Bird’s, Redwing’s and Robin’s symphony.  I have my place among them.  I have my place here in the open country.  It feels good to remember the connection; the connection to sparkling raindrops, fresh young leaves, the daffodils, songbirds and the scents of wildflowers.  I am connected to the world that surrounds.  

In this season of renewal, I find a moment of peace.  I know that the world is larger than these few acres that delight my senses.  I know my connections broader that the nature that this morning wraps its arms around me.  Work awaits, as do bills, and all the people that make up the core of my life.  But those connections do not grow weaker by these precious moments, but rather stronger as I spend this time with the reawaking world.  I am like the grass, the flowers, the trees, and the birds that sing, revitalized, and prepared to face a new season.  Yes, the glory of this spring day fills me with optimism, places a smile on my lips, and lightens my steps.  For I am part of this reawakening world, reenergized to do my part and ready to face the unknown changes and challenges that lie before me.

(416 Words)                4-4-2015

Lucky Alex

Lucky Alex

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Alex raced up the stairs to his room.  His mom had just brought the boy home from baseball practice, and he couldn’t wait.  He knew he was a luck guy, because of the robin’s nest outside his window.  Each day he would sit quietly and watch the birds so close at hand.  Just this morning he had witnessed the first baby as it escaped its powder blue prison, and hoped that in his absence the others had joined.  As Alex tiptoed across his floor and took his seat in the chair by the window, he did not notice that this toy trucks had been gathered from their scattered abandonments and placed carefully away.  While he looked awestruck at the nest’s new additions, his stuffed bear watched him from its place on the perfectly made bed.  The lad remained motionless as he considered the labor the nest’s construction had required.  He remembered how day by day mud and straw woven, a home for the babies’ birth and growth.  He smiled as he watched the mama Robin land upon the nest’s rim tilt her head, the young stretching upward with mouths open.  She stuffed her gift into a hungry mouth and flitted away. 

Time passed.  Alex did not notice the scent of homemade soup drift up the stairs and into his room. He watched as Mr. and Mrs. Robin came over and over again, feeding one, then another, their labor unending.  Transfixed, he did not consider the clean clothing that waited him in closet or drawer, and barely heard the call to dinner.  Moving away from his chair with care he headed down.  Yes, Alex was a lucky boy, perhaps one day he will know just how lucky…

(286 Words)                  5-5-2015

 

Courage

Courage             

By John W. Vander Velden

Each of us has our own definition of the word courage.  Many center their thoughts upon the brave that stand the front line upon the battlefield.  I can agree with that.  But I have witnessed courage in the lives of what most might consider ordinary folks.  There are many difficult situations, aren’t there?  Too often we overlook others that battle each day, fighting wars no one sees, against foes that they know, in the end will overcome.  Does fear only come with the sound of explosions?  And does facing a personal terror take less grit than a public one?

Sooner or later living requires courage.  The only other option is surrender.  Too often, it seems, some flee from life’s contentions, racing toward an artificial release, a fleeting escape that in the end brings its own battles.  Each will face a monster, some must face many, whether they stand or run at those times reveals the truth.  How important to remember that tears do not wash away courage.  Tears do not dilute the actions of the brave.  Times they provide the fuel to reach places unreachable.  Sometimes their flow carries the heart to the source of Love and the needed strength that can only be found there.

How does one face the test of principles?  On what ground do those stand whose values are shaken by the shifting winds of current opinion?  Some might not notice the demands upon them.  Few see how difficult holding onto what is truth, when most others proclaim those things invalid.  How easy to simply give in, to follow, to forget.  But the courageous are not afraid to question, for the truth remains true.  And when at last the test has passed, the brave with an open mind determines the place they stand, and with courage state, this is where I stand, this is what I am!

So what is your definition of courage, and who do you call brave? 

(324 Words)