prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Driving alone in the middle of the night.

Sunday morning at 3 am I was driving down the middle of Louisiana. I had a six hour ride in front of me. In Louisiana at 3 am on Sunday morning the traffic is almost zero. From my oilfield service work days I remembered the many times that I had left the house at three in the morning and drove to wells. This drive seemed a lot like those rides of long ago. My mind was flooded with memories of those days.

Driving alone at night for many miles, at times was a big part of my life. On this particular drive the memories of years past flooded over me. Memories of my wife Jackie, my children Nancy, Chris, Kerry, and Mike were near and intense. For a few hours I was really into memories. I am often into memories anyway but was really into it Sunday morning.

I am 88 years old. I have memories of some 84 or 85 of those years. I become aware that things are winding up for me. I am on my last ropes and very aware of it. Wallowing in memories is not always a pleasant thing. It can be pleasant. But quite often you can become very conscious that you have had it, especially when you remember all your loved ones and friends who have passed away. These are not pleasant moments. When you realize that life is behind you and so many of your loved ones are gone.

I should stop wallowing in memories. I have to keep busy. I should double my efforts in genealogy and writing my life story.

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