Serving the High Plains
Serving the High Plains
When I was young, I didn’t know how good I had it.
My family wasn’t rich, but we had enough. My parents loved their children unconditionally, taught us the value of service and gave us all a foundation for lives well lived.
Moreover, I grew up with a hero in the house — my father. He wasn’t a war hero, a great athlete or television star. Instead, he was a good and decent man who made sure our home was filled with love and laughter, and I never stopped looking up to him as an example of how someone should live their life.
When I hit my young adult years, I came to realize I was not my father, nor could I live my life his way. I had to live it my way, and I took off in search of myself. I went the long way around to get there but, for better or worse, I finally got there.
I came into middle age as a husband and a father — the two most important jobs I ever had. I also found a career as a newspaperman, which gave my work meaning. I moved up modestly by moving from town to town and newspaper to newspaper, dragging my wife and children along each step of the way. Again, for better or worse.
Along with way, my wife and I divorced and our girls grew up. I couldn’t be prouder of how my daughters turned out, and my ex-wife and I eventually became the best of friends, all of which are among my greatest blessings, even if I do have to fight off the loneliness that senior citizens often feel when their homes grow empty and quiet.
Now I’m in my late 60s, tapping at my 70s, and my perspective has changed. I know now that life has been good to me, even if I didn’t know it at the time, and that it’s up to me to make my final years worth living still.
I’m fortunate to be healthy enough to keep working, so I keep busy. But I know my best days are behind me; the working world is moving on without the people in my age bracket.
Modern technology is supposed to make our lives easier but for people my age that’s not always the case. We grew up far more self-sufficient, and now we’re obsolete.
Sure, it’s wonderful to be able to “see” our children and grandchildren from half a world way through online video chats, and there are other powerful amenities that come with today’s gadgetry, but there are always tradeoffs. Smart phones now hold our family photos, but they aren’t the family heirlooms that photo albums once were. And emails may have improved our ability to keep in touch with one another, but they aren’t kept in the shoeboxes where hand-written letters were once stored away.
Nevertheless, I don’t want to be a cantankerous old man pining away about the good old days as if the modern world has no redeemable value. That’s a sad and distorted way to live out the rest of your life. Sad because you can only see your best days as the old days; distorted because the modern world isn’t all bad. The generations coming up behind us are, in many ways, better than we were when our generation ruled the earth.
Tom McDonald is editor of the New Mexico Community News Exchange. Contact him at: