Old, Blue, New

January 4, 2020

A GIFT OLD, NEW, BLUE

1.  I see old every time I look in the mirror. I feel old occasionally, like tonight my back hurts. When I was a kid, my grandparents seemed old to me, but I am older now than they were when I was growing up, and my image of them is not what I see inside me. Most of the time, my age is just numbers on a calendar, and I am thankful for each year, every day I’ve been given. Even a cursory glance through the obits shows me people who weren’t given the gift of old. 

2.  It’s been some twenty years since last I had them, so in one sense it won’t be new, but it will be new again. For Christmas, Linda bought me a beehive. I’ve wanted to get back into it for a long time, and come spring, I’ll either find a swarm or get a nuc (a small, commercially available colony of bees), and be back in business. A lot has changed in those twenty years; diseases previously unknown have infiltrated, making beekeeping much more hands-on than it used to be. A hobbyist like myself used to be able to set supers on the hive in the spring and leave the little critters alone till fall when it was time to take off the honey. With the diseases, pesticides, and such, a hive needs regular attention. Not quite the same as animal husbandry which requires daily work, but a bit more than I used to do. They are fascinating creatures, and provide much entertainment in addition to the honey and wax they provide. Linda listened to my heart, and I am grateful tonight for the prospect of a sweet future.

3.  “Isabel!” Linda exclaimed as the doorbell rang. She’s about the only one who announces her appearance with a push of the button as she sweeps into the dining room with a cheerful “hi!” Usually, she needs something—a stain to be removed from a shirt or basketball uniform, cookies baked for something going on at school; but tonight, she showed up for no particular reason at all. Full of stories and energy, her blue eyes sparkled as she talked. Mostly it was about friends and activities, both of which she has in abundance. Linda asked her about college plans, prompting a narrative about her grades. Half an hour later, she jumps up. “Dad wants the car back at 7:00, so I have to go,” she announced before giving us both hugs and bounding out the door. Recently, I have had a Facebook conversation with a high school classmate who spoke of the blessing of her grandchildren living nearby. Hers are twenty minutes away. Ours can walk to our house in ten. I am so thankful for Izzi’s blue eyes dancing in delight at our table tonight.