The Naming of Things

 

The Naming of Things

By John W. Vander Velden

 

For most of my life I was not in the habit of naming things. Oh I named pets, a tom cat named Gray Gray spent most of his life on our farm in the sixties. Dad named the farm dogs, Ike, a boxer that was tougher than nails, yet terrified of thunder. A mutt of a snow dog, whose soft fur seemed a foot thick, was named King. The fur wasn’t that thick, but King loved the cold. He would lay all day on top of the snow bank in a raging blizzard. An incredible beast. We’ve had cats named Moose, Baby, Oliver, and so many others that we attached names to.

But in general, I did not name objects.

Jackie on the other hand named some of her automobiles. She called my blue 86 Dodge Aries, Beasty. To be honest it was a good car, but the least animal like of anything I owned. But the time came when we felt she needed 4-wheel-drive. Winter in Marshall County usually means snow, and she was expected to make it to work on time no matter what. That was when we purchased a small white Jeep. Now that vehicle, she decided, deserved a name. It only took a couple of weeks to hang the moniker Pearl on her Renegade.

Time came when I needed a different vehicle, and as luck would have it, two years after adopting Pearl, we added a younger sibling that looked just like her. Now I was faced with naming the second white Renegade. Hmmmm. It took a few weeks, I toyed with names that sounded Italian. After all our Renegades were imported from there. Finally I settled on Benny Italian or not.

Perhaps that opened the floodgates for I have named other objects since the summer of 2019. The most recent are the tools that help me with my mobility, which are the real subjects of this post.

It began in late February, when a cane became a needed accessory. I had taken one of dad’s metal canes as my own. But the thing betrayed me. I named that piece of Aluminum, Judas, for it tripped me in the dentist’s office. The result was an ambulance ride, seven stitches above the right eyebrow, a broken finger, and four weeks of Physical Therapy for my pinky finger. Hence the name Judas.

A pair of surgeries in April and May changed things, and my bionic knees demanded something stronger and more trustworthy than Judas. A dear friend of mine loaned me a walker, which I promptly named Jethro. If you’re familiar with the CBS Monday night lineup, you might understand the name choice. You see my Jethro was quiet and dependable.

Jethro was my companion until just before Independence Day when I finally was allowed to move to a cane. Jethro was no Judas, he never let me down, no matter how awkward it was to get around. The new cane went unnamed for several weeks. It seemed to me the device had a similar personality to Jethro, but I thought calling it Jethro II, was not acceptable. I finally named my new black cane, LeRoy.

Fact is me and LeRoy have gotten around. Gone shopping in Plymouth, took a trip to Shipshewana, Indiana, but the outing most common was to Physical Therapy.

They have not given me permission to set my dear metal friend aside. I had hoped to be allowed to wander on only two legs by month’s end, but alas it does not seem to be the expected situation. It seems that I will be needing to keep LeRoy close at hand for the next several weeks.

It’s a good thing I gave the cane a name…  

(630 Words) 8-23-2024

   

Bindings

 

Bindings

By John W. Vander Velden

 

For each of us are bound,

With cords we recognize and those that go unnoticed.

Some are connections that hold us but briefly,

Others, attachments made, that endure many years.

Yet for each of us there are bindings

That seem as fragile as a single silk strand.

It is those delicate threads,

Which are never broken.

For they are what continually hold us,

Connecting each of us to another.

For it is with those threads we are forever bound.

Night Walk

 

Night Walk        1-26-2012

By John W. Vander Velden

He crossed the street not certain where he might go.  The rain drops silver beneath the street lamps, splashing new puddles in the street.  Joe’s head uncovered, hair hanging wet, water flowing into his eyes along his cheeks down his neck, cold…wet…soaking…miserable.  Yet he continued moving the direction he faced, confused…lost…in his home town.  It didn’t matter where he went…only he could not go home…not yet…maybe never.  His mind raced, scarcely noticing the chill or the places his feet carried.  How had he come to this place?  The place that home seemed off limits.  How could things change so quickly?  Two hours…only two hours…the time he had left…the time he had walked…the time he had been drenched.  Joe should go somewhere dry but the hour gave few choices.  He should find a safe place…a dry place.  Home came to mind.  That was impossible…now….

 

(151 Words)

Lookin' Back Again

 Lookin’ Back...Again            

By John W. Vander Velden

Some might think it silly.  Some think it a waste of time.  Some might say they never do…but I don’t believe them.  But I look back.  So today when I reach yet another milestone of my life, I think about the road that has taken me to this place.  Yes, I look back and wonder if I have used the years to their best purposes.  But I also find that if I examine my personal past objectively I realize I could never have predicted the outcome.  I imagine the twenty year old kid that set his college degree on a shelf to take on a very different profession.  That boy had no idea where that road would take him, the highs and yes, the lows.  He had no idea of just how difficult farming would be, or how much physical abuse he would willingly put himself through.  But oh, what a journey, and the things I have done.  From the fringe it might seem I lived a small life.  But I would differ from that opinion.  For forty-five years I was up to my elbows in “the mud and blood of life”.  (I always liked that quote from Tree in the Meadow, but like it or not, it fits the life I have lived).  I’ve seen this small part of Marshall County Indiana from the top of a silo.  Times I have even stood on the very top when I had stacked it above the concrete rim and seen the panorama of what was my world. 

I have helped cows give birth more times than I would care to count.  I have aided the vet on hundreds of occasions as together we had to deal with life and death…hands on.  How many times I had found myself working the soil at cool hour of first light, and continue till the day ended.  Sometimes those days ended long after the sun had abandoned me.  I have raced the rain when the hay was almost dry, and hoped for the best.  Sat in a combine cab and watched crop devoured, listened to the machine as it processed plant into clean grain.  They were hard years and I wouldn’t trade one…not one for any alternative lifestyle.

But what I see behind me is more than the farm.  For though the time demanded made up such a large part of my awake hours, there was so much more.  I think back to March of 1989 and a new chapter of my life…a chapter that has not reached its conclusion.  For when Jackie bound her life to mine, my existence took a new and wonderful turn.  I could not stand where I am without her at my side.  I could not have reached the feeble goals I have set without her assistance.  And then there are the other days, when together we have discovered a larger world in our travels.  Whether it was Alaska or Arizona or the other places we have wandered.  Whether it was walking on deserted beaches or climbing lighthouses, one plus one makes so much more than two.

And together we have raised a son.  How many runs did he require…to school…to baseball…to basketball…to band, the list goes on.  I had the flexibility Jackie did not, and so I was the chauffeur, but time spent behind the wheel needed to be made up at the farm.  It might have seemed a sacrifice then…it does not now.  Now when I look back and see the child my son grew from, my eyes dampen.  But only pride come to my heart when I see the man that child became.

So I look back and yes, there are regrets.  There are moment when I know I failed myself and more…those that depended upon me.  But failing is part of living.  And failing is only loss when we do not learn…do not get up and try to do better.  Today I will not dwell on mistakes, lost opportunities, and those things that tend to bring me down.  No, now I look back and smile, for Thursday was my birthday and though I’m officially seventy-two, my whole life is not in my wake.  There is so much ahead, and today I will stand on the past and stride toward the future.  (722 Words) 2-10-2024

 

More Than a Dash

 

More Than a Dash

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Recently one of Jackie’s cousins passed away. The obituary revealed the man had lived an amazing life, what some might call the dash. The dash has been described as the mark carved into a tombstone between the day of birth and time of passing from this world.

After reading that lengthy piece in the paper and attending the funeral, I was led to thinking. Most of us never figure that our time on the green side of the sod is significant. To us our dash means very little. For we are just ordinary people, living ordinary lives. We never even take a moment to consider our own dash, the people around us whose lives intersect with ours, or any of the other ways our dash has and continues to affect the world.

But when we do so, we forget one important thing. For though we might be unable to see it, our dash is not some random mark of no consequence. For I know that each of us has been placed on this globe at this specific time, for a specific reason. God gave you life, for a purpose. It is up to us to find that purpose, to seek it out, to fulfill that place in the mechanism, that is the human race. You are not some random speck. You are not some biological accident. You walk this earth for a reason.

And that reason is more than a dash, more than the list of accomplishments or awards. It is more than the years given to a job or profession. It is more than the heirs we will leave behind. For as unique individuals we fill a space that none other can fill.

Be assured you are more than some lines that one day might be printed in the local paper. For you are more than a dash.

(309 Words) 1/26/2024 

Looking Toward Tomorrow

 

Looking Toward Tomorrow

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Soon I begin another year.

I look forward to 2024. But it is my hope that I will change more than the calendar that hangs on the bedroom wall. Each of us has our own opinion of the year just completed. Many are pleased to see 2023 in their wake. But when I look back, I see more than the disappointments and difficulties I have faced; I see the accomplishments and great times as well. I have grown these past twelve months. I have had the opportunity to meet many amazing people in 2023. Each year is made up of plus and minuses and this year is no exception.

For God had given me 365 days, and I was obligated to do what I could with that gift. I have tried to move forward in my own way. Though my age limits some the things I once did easily, I live by a very different schedule than years gone by. That new schedule allows me to work on new and different projects, and I do.

These new projects help me to remain optimistic in a world that only emphasizes the negative. Not that optimism comes easy. Not that optimism is my natural reaction. But because I know God is in charge. I know His fingers are in not only my life but the world in general. This knowledge makes my optimism possible, even when much negativity is tossed my way. For as I said, I have been given an incredible gift, my life, and to focus on what cannot be while ignoring what can, does not pay the Giver the complement He deserves.

God does not promise me that I will see the end of 2024, so I focus on the chances and opportunities each day gives. The hours should not to be mired in the muck of what ifs, but rather grasped firmly as I work on the tasks presented, and use what strength remains. For though I am no longer in my youth, there is yet some strength in this man, and I must use that strength to move forward each day.

So as I approach this new year, let me look toward the future, with eyes wide open. But always remembering that life gives good times and times that I will feel in the end were not so good. It is for me to face each new day with confidence, for there are things God wishes me to do...

And God has plans for you as well!

May God bless 2024...

 (420 Words) 12-30-2023

2023 Christmas Letter

 

2023 Christmas Letter  

December 5, 2023

Friends, another year has nearly come to its completion. I don’t know about you, but it seems that the calendar pages have flipped more quickly than ever before. Here it is with Christmas so near, and it feels like summer had only finished the day before yesterday. But it is December and once again Jackie and I reach out to you.

Where to begin, that always seems to be the hardest part in describing a busy year. Let’s start at the beginning, or near the beginning. For March 7^th was the date for the release

of my third novel, With the Sun’s Rising. I felt compelled to pick that date for it was my father’s 98^th birthday. I sometimes wonder what he would think of my writing. He was a man that had always made his way by sweat and toil, and might not understand the whys I push so hard in this endeavor. Yet I believe he would see the importance of these stories I tell.

Jumping ahead I go to April and our first getaway of the year. Our first choice of road

Lower Falls, Hocking Hills State Park

trips unraveled even before we got the suitcases out of storage. So instead, we directed our eyes and feet in a totally different direction. Jackie and I had promised ourselves that this was the year we would go to Hocking Hills State Park, Logan, Ohio. After seeing pictures of the park, we longed to see for ourselves. Though it rained, and rained, and rained, we donned our rain gear, our hiking boots, and poles, and ventured the trails of the park with care.

Though the weather was less than perfect, particularly for the photographer in me, the rain fed the streams. The trees and foliage were bright with what Mom called, “new green,” and waterfalls were fantastic. We spent three days wandering six trails and saw many of the wonders of the area. If you love the outdoors and like hiking among rocky cliffs and flowing water, go to Hocking Hills.

In June Jackie and I set our sights northward to one of our favorite areas. We planned another four-day escape with Holland, Michigan, as our temporary base. Stopping in St. Joseph on our way north for some shopping and a walk along the Lake Michigan shore. The following day we visited Saugatuck and several of the interesting shops in that artsy community. That afternoon found us hiking out to the Saugatuck Dunes on an intensely hot day, but the views of the lake were incredible.

Of course we went to Windmill Island on this trip. I find many reminders of my family’s culture there. Perhaps it had rained while we were in Ohio, but the weather at Lake Michigan’s shoreline may have been a bit warm, but in every other aspect it was fantastic. We drove up to Grand Haven and wandered about among other tourists through the quaint downtown. The trip concluded with a stop at South Haven as we headed southward, another one of our favorite places. We would have taken more time, but our precious wonder dog, wasn’t feeling the best when we left. We had entrusted her to some dear friends that loved her nearly as much as Jackie and I, but all the same we felt the four days enough of a parting.

A short time after our return from Michigan, Cloey, a dog that was so much more than a pet, took a turn for the worse. It should not have surprised us, for our small dear friend had not been well for at least 2 years. But she had recovered each bout in the past, and we had hoped that she would rebound once again. But though she rallied a few times and we were certain the crisis had passed; the end came quite suddenly during August’s closing days.

Even now I am not certain we will ever fully recover from the separation. I still want to call out her name as I enter what had been her domain. But we feel so fortunate that we were able to share those 13 and a half years with the small dog with a large heart.

It was mid-September before we ventured down the road once again. Another hiking

vacation was the plan. We drove down to Turkey Run State Park, near Crawfordsville, Indiana. Though the leaves were changing it was a little too early for fall’s color peak. None the less, Jackie and I dared to hike trail three, one of the more rugged trails. Our intentions were to tackle a trail or two in Shades State Park the following day, except the rains began during the night. We had walked a bit in that park before and it did not seem wise to clumber along slippery stony trails along cliffs, so we postponed those hikes for another trip. Instead, we took in the Park County Indiana Covered Bridge Festival.

Rain did little to dampen the spirits of those that took festivals seriously.  We don’t, you understand, but it was interesting to see the thousands that seemed to have no problem slugging through muddy parking lots and going from tent to tent to tent. The festival is spread between 10 communities, we visited three. I consider the Mill in Mansfield the high point to our day.

Ogle Lake, Brown County State Park

That pretty well covers our out of time adventures.

Jackie continues to help at the pharmacy, as a fill in when needed. She says those obligations will likely cease in the coming year. Time alone will tell.

Nick remains in the Denver, Colorado area. He continues to work for ConMed, as an engineer in the research and development department of the surgical device company. He so enjoys the city and its location. Our son has fallen in love with the mountains and hikes as well as other outside activities (read golf).

As for me, I give all the time I can to my writing. I am working on the fourth book of the Misty Creek Series. Time at the keyboard and a wide variety of Author’s Events fills nearly every moment I can spare, and more than I should allow. 

So, that gives you just a taste of our lives this past year. I leave you with these few words: know that you remain in our thoughts and prayers. It is our hope that this coming season fills you with all the joy and light it can, for Christmas is a very special time. And as we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, our Savior, we are reminded just how much God loves us. For God is revealed in love and love is the greatest force in the universe. It is our hope that you tap into that love, that you share it with those you care about, as well as your friends and neighbors.

Have a blessed Christmas,

The Vander Veldens