A VIEW FROM EIGHTY
Today is my eightieth birthday. Eighty is always a milestone in the lives of the people fortunate enough to see it. It certainly is in mine. My overwhelming feeling today is gratitude for a long and full life, to God the great force of life in the universe, and all the countless people who helped me along the way to be the person I am today. My thanksgiving today knows no bounds.
My first thought, of course, is for my dear mother. After all, it was just the two of us involved in this a long time ago. She died several years ago, but she is always with me, and just as much today as ever.
Actually, at birth I was a great disappointment to both of my parents. After two boys (4 years and 2 years ahead), my father longed for a daughter. My mother prayed for a girl too, so she would be through with childbirth. Her first two births had been exceedingly difficult and dangerous. She had survived, but just barely. She wanted nothing more than to be through with giving birth. She wept off and on for the nine months, and then cried for a year afterwards as she realized she was not through. She was so out of it when I was born she gave the doctor the wrong name for the birth certificate. Years later I had to go through an official name change. In time, all she could remember about my birth was the cold watermelon she enjoyed at the (unairconditioned) Pensacola Maternity Hospital (I have always loved watermelon). I was the fifth generation native Floridian, my ancestors on my mother's side having moved from South Carolina to north Florida around 1830, years before Florida was a state.
Fortunately, longevity runs in my family. Both of my parents lived into their mid-90's (no dementia). The people on my mother's side routinely live past 90. Her grandfather lived to be at least 99. If I live into my 90's, it will be thanks to the good genes from my ancestors, not to anything I did to deserve it.
Although I have been blessed with a long life and happy life, I have reached that inevitable stage of life when dark clouds form. And, sure enough, an ominous dark shadow has moved over my immediate family. Nevertheless, I am resolved that this ugliness will not blot out the light of the sun. I refuse to be vanquished by the dark. So, to counteract the ugly shadows of life, I am resolved to summon up in my mind all of the most beautiful memories I have. The beauty of times past will overcome the ugliness of the moment.
Beauty, of course, is in the eye of the beholder. So, this has to be a very personal view of beauty. I would divide beauty into two categories, natural and human-made.
As for natural beauty, I would say the first has to be the birth of my children (twin girls) and granddaughter. On one hand, something pressed into place for nine months looks, well, a bit distressed, to say the least. But, to a parent and grandparent, nothing could ever be as beautiful as this new life. Here are some other outstanding examples of the nature beauty I have experienced:
---The Grand Canyon
I have been to the Canyon twice. Both times, I was in speechless awe. It is the most amazing physical phenomenon I have seen. Two-dimensional pictures do not do justice. The Canyon is ten miles across and filled with fantastic land formations. This is the earth at its most dazzling and, I think, beautiful display. The Indians believed this was the center of spiritual life of the universe. I tend to agree.
---Moonlight on Pensacola Bay. I grew up a stone's throw from the Bay, in the neighborhood called Sanders Beach. I have seen that beautiful bay thousands of times in all conditions. However, there was one special view of the Bay that took my breath away. I had not seen the Bay as beautiful before--nor since. In 1964, I was taking the Gulf Wind, the L&N streamliner train from Pensacola back to college in Tallahassee. It left at 12:30 a.m. Leaving the station, the train traveled along the edge of the Bay before it rounded a curve to follow the edge of East Bay and then went over a long trestle toward Milton. In the dark and quiet coach, I pressed my nose to the big window to watch the stars and the moon dance on the rippling waters. It was like sparkling diamonds. I watched with unblinking eye until the bays disappeared from sight. Then I dozed into peaceful sleep and the next thing I knew the conductor was calling, "Tallahassee." Every time I go back to Pensacola I recall the beautiful diamonds sparkling on the bay on that enchanted night so long ago.
---The Milky Way. On a night flight from New York to Paris (1975 as I recall), when the plane reached its cruising altitude of thirty-something thousand feet, the Milky Way filled the clear sky. I had never seen such before--or since. The great wheel was dazzling with its countless stars. I pressed my face, transfixed to the glass. I gazed for hours at that most awesome beauty. I felt so small, yet so honored to be a part of it all.
---My garden in springtime. After I retired, I developed a botanical garden on the adjacent vacant building lot. Always a joy, the garden is at its best in late winter/spring. I never fail to be awed by the incredible beauty of the plants. I have hundreds of them.
---Mt. Shasta. After I retired, I took up two big hobbies I had always loved but never had had much time for, gardening and the train. I have been fascinated by trains for as long as I can remember. After I retired, I began traveling all the routes that Amtrak offered across the west. Once I was on the Coast Starlight, from Los Angeles to Seattle. As I awoke in the morning, I opened the curtains at my window to find Mount Shasta, California, filling the scene. It was breath-taking. I sat transfixed as I drank my coffee then hurried down to the dining car to claim another window as I could stare at the mountain while enjoying my pancakes. I have seen lots of mountains, but I do not think I have seen one as beautiful as Mt. Shasta with the sun rising beyond it.
Now for the human-made works of beauty I have enjoyed:
---In 1970, when I was a poor graduate student, my wife and I were in London at Christmas. For Christmas Eve, we went to midnight mass at Westminster Abbey assuming we could catch the subway back to our lodgings. We got in the second row of the north transept with a perfect view of everything. It was spectacular. While the service was going along, I looked up at the clear glass windows and saw snow coming down. After dismisal, we Floridians went out into a winter wonderland. However, there was no public transportation, nor taxi cabs. In fact there were very few cars, and people, on the streets. We had no choice but to walk the two miles back to our room, near Harrod's. It was like walking through a Christmas card. We arrived home at 2:30 a.m. too filled with joy to settle down. It is still our most memorable Christmas.
---Bok Tower. My first college teaching job was in Orlando, in 1966, B.D. (Before Disney). Gas was 25 cents a gallon. Roads were uncluttered. Soon on, we discovered Bok Tower, in Lake Wales, an hour's drive. It was love at first sight. Admission was 50 cents a car. We started the first of hundreds of visit to the Taj Mahal of America. Until a few years ago, we routinely took our winter vacations in Lake Wales in order to visit the tower. The combination of architecture, music, and the gardens was irresistible. Besides, in winter, one can load up on fresh oranges. If you want a serene paradise on earth, you should try Bok Tower.
---Fonteyn and Nureyev performing Swan Lake. I must confess I know next to nothing about dance, and almost as little about music, but I know great beauty when I see it. Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev dancing Swan Lake was the most beautiful stage performance I have ever seen. And, it all happened on a fluke. In, as I recall, 1972. a ballet tour stopped in Birmingham where the two were to star in Swan Lake. A group of us university people decided on a lark to go for a night out. From start to finish, I could not take my eyes off the stage. Gravity seemed irrelevant and lost in elegance, grace and beauty. Fonteyn, who was in her fifties, danced like a teenager, twirling on the tips of her toes as if it were the easiest thing in the world. There was a very athletic Nureyev throwing his partner up in the air as a graceful football player would toss about a rag doll. And, all of it to that most melodious music of Tchaikovsky. Not many years later, Fonteyn and Nurevey both retired, and died soon thereafter. I must be among the few people still alive who can say I saw the two greatest ballet stars (with the possible exceptions of Nijinsky and Pavlova) dance the greatest ballet of all time. I will never forget it.
---Chartres Cathedral. My wife and I were fortunately enough to visit most of the great Gothic cathedrals of Europe. Our favorite was Chartres. It is the best combination of architecture, stained glass, and sculpture. We were even in Chartres one time when suddenly the organ boomed out and a wedding began. We stood transfixed to the side as the radiant bride floated down that grand central aisle on her father's arm and trailing a long train. It was all a vision of loveliness in that hallowed heaven on earth. The stained glass windows were our favorite parts. Chartres is most famous for "Chartres Blue," a shade made from peculiar local minerals. It is unduplicated in the world. There are three great rose windows and many side windows, almost all from the Middle Ages.
The North Rose Window was a gift of St. Louis and his mother, Blanche of Castile. Their coats of arms are on the sides of the rose.
---The Crown Jewels. The British crown jewels are housed on display in the Tower of London. This remains one of the favorite tourist spots in England, and for good reason. The various crowns and assorted regalia are kept in numerous glass cases set out for public viewing. Under the lights, the diamonds seem to strike sparks as one moves around them. This is certainly the greatest collection of fine gems available for public viewing in the world. Not to be missed.
So, today I feel like the most fortunate person in the world. I have had a long and good life. I have been granted three score and ten and ten more. And while I cannot stop the inevitable shadows from creeping across my life, I can keep the light shining by recalling the great experiences of beauty I have been fortunate enough to claim. If God is in beauty, and I think God is, I have seen His/Her face time and again. Nothing can take that away. If I am given one more day, or one more decade, I will always have that.
