A Visit’s Last Day

MON., AUG. 14, 2000, 3:13 PM
MAYS BEDROOM, DURANGO

Yes, o son, this is the last full day of this family visit in these rural Durango homes of kin. It has been a busy day, with more exercise (most of it “non-productive”) than usual (by the time you get back to Zane’s). You, rightly, feel foolish in making the wrong turn and thus walking two miles in a wrong direction (and then 2 miles back!)… but it was a warm but not hot afternoon, and, aside from traffic whizzing by it was mostly a pleasant, scenic walk… and good for you!

As you have looked at these aptly named Rocky Mountains you have considered whether you would, if given the chance, live here. It is “classically” more beautiful than your home place, but it will be covered with snow in a few months… and will be such nearly all winter. You have not been a winter sportsman, and it seems too late in life to try to develop at least some prowess. So you conclude your muse with the judgment that your Home Farm is best for you… and this shall remain “a nice place to visit.”

You haven’t been as successful as you wanted to be in initiating conversations about the spiritual aspects of life. There still could be some chances tonight, but you may have to admit that you are not yet very good at turning a conversation to this relationship of Ours… and… well, you’ll just have to settle for, “Well, maybe next time.”

This error in judgment about direction and some of what happened last night suggests that early senility is “almost yours to ‘enjoy’.” Your inclination is to “fight it” for awhile, but for how long?… before you just begin to accept that your memory and judgment are deteriorating, and are unlikely to do more than “hold steady” – if you try harder to “think as of yore.”

Alcohol is another “amplifier” of this problem, and you shall have to accept some strange consequences if you choose not to control your intake more often and effectively. You can sometimes, in safe situations, take in a bit too much and then just say something like… “at my age, what difference does it make?” or… even… “I’m a dying man.”

No more trips are planned as of now, and you truly wonder if this might be the last… or close to it? Is it yet time to declare, “You come see us at our place”? You’re not as old as your folks were when they stopped visiting, but you’re not likely to live as long as they did. And, happily, you have no desire to live on into the truly elderly.

I won’t repeat what I said in yesterday’s Teaching, except to tell you again that you have less and less desire to relate to a lot of people and to be “delightfully social,” as you never quite were. You haven’t made much effort to relate to these “home kids,” but neither have they, to you. You feel “full up,” with the children and youth of John Patrick’s and Michael’s families (with Wendy and Debbie, too, of course). The others? Well, you’re not likely to see them again (at least until they’re older), and it does require what seems to be too much effort. You saw real “withdrawal” in your parents, which can be a good reason for not living much longer.

When you return, with the aid of this little book give to you by , you should start to “get your financial affairs in order.” Be sure what your insurance is known, accurately, by you and by Lenore. This money from the folks’ estate seems to suggest that your gambling with minimal insurance was worth the risk. But… as you know, I claim no expertise nor much interest in matters financial. And when folks get nasty (as you almost did with Howard) about money I see this as one of earth’s sadnesses.

You trust Carolyn’s affirmation that the Farm is “functioning well.” This was more than friendly of her to take these responsibilities for this visit time. Lenore can probably suggest a better way of thinking her than you can.