For six decades I lived my life as one in which the bad times overshadowed the good. But now, reclining in the overstuffed warmth of a more gentle and accepting perspective, I like to allow what’s left of my mind to wander back to some of those golden moments and, accompanied by the mellowness of years and the benevolent glow of hindsight, relive and enjoy some of my happier experiences.
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I was recently remembering the first hit I got in a Little League game. Because it was more than a half century ago, most details have faded. I do recall standing on the bag at first base, the colors of the game more vibrant than our thrice-weekly practices up to that point; our ragtag practice attire bearing no comparison to our bright uniform shirts. My heart was beating in my throat and adrenaline tingled at my fingertips. My exuberance was suddenly quashed with the thought, “Now what do I do?!”
A few years later our pitcher and I (playing 1st base) managed to successfully execute the hidden ball trick on pompous Ralphy and, it felt so good, I was giddy for a few seconds. Successfully pulling off that play is a rare thing. It was actually the only time in my Little League career that it was so. But Ralphy was in my class at school and was such a blow hard that it made that moment even sweeter.
In my early 20’s I was playing in the county amateur golf tournament and I stunk up both courses for my first two rounds. I was nowhere near making the cut. I began the consolation round with a humiliating 12-over par on the front nine. Then, on the 11th hole, I made an adjustment to my swing. I played the final eight holes in even par and won my flite. My father and mother walked around the course that day, watching me play. When I placed a nine-iron shot ten feet from the hole on 18 and rolled in the putt for birdie, I looked up and saw my father raise his arms in triumph. Finally pleasing my father on the golf course was a big moment for me. As was the first time I out-scored him.
Of course, the birth of my kids, and being there for each delivery, has to rank at the top of my list of all-time wonderful moments. I can still recall my elation at the words, “It’s a boy,” when my eldest was born and the same feeling when my daughter arrived. When my third child was born, nearly 16 years later, I held him the entire night through, welcoming him to the world and telling him that I hoped his life would be all that he wanted it to be. And my granddaughter being born! Can’t forget that. From the moment they each arrived, until this moment, I have felt nothing but Love for them.
But, it may have been my beautiful daughter who ruined what could have been the best morning of my life. Sure, when I was a child, there were Christmas mornings and many others on which I awoke with anticipation of an exciting and wondrous day ahead, but there was this one magnificent morning…
For nearly two decades, I spent time each summer fly fishing in Montana. The place we stayed had a wonderful café and I’d gain about five pounds each summer from the breakfasts alone. The food was exceptional—because just about everything was fried in butter—and I ate at the café most mornings. I rarely strayed from my usual menu selection: Two eggs, three strips of bacon, hash browns, toast and coffee. And the bacon was the best! The cook—the owner of the lodge—had selected bacon from a specific purveyor and all winter long I looked forward to it.
Now, bacon is my favorite. I once heard a friend say that if you wrapped poison in bacon, he’d eat it. His comment perfectly matched my feelings on the subject. And this particular bacon put all other bacon to shame. Sometimes I’d go to sleep in our cabin, just thinking of having that bacon for breakfast.
Over the years, we became friends with the owners. One summer I arrived for my vacation and met my fishing partner (who had arrived earlier in the week) down at the café. I had eaten breakfast on the road that morning and, since it was close to noon when I arrived, I just ordered a soft drink. The waitress brought me my drink and, lying across the top of my glass, was a perfect slice of crispy bacon. I laughed and leaned around the corner and caught the eye of the owner as he stood before the griddle. I raised my bacon/coke in acknowledgement to him and he called out, “Welcome back!”
A few years later, my daughter and one-year-old granddaughter joined us for vacation. On our first morning there, I excitedly led them from our cabin down to the café. The three of us sat at a small table, our view overlooking the majestic Madison River. It was a beautiful morning, I was beginning my vacation with my favorite girls, the view was incredible and I’d just ordered my standard breakfast so bacon was on the way. How could it be more perfect?!
It could.
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When the waitress set my plate down, there, next to my eggs and hash browns were five strips of my favorite bacon! Five! My stomach flipped and I may have heard angels sing. Could it have been heavenly trumpets sounding? Everything around me was in soft-focus except that plate containing the extra bacon. Somewhere, off in a fog, I heard the waitress say, “Chuck says welcome back…” and I must have made some throaty grunt in response. Words were trying to form in my head about how this was the most perfect start to a vacation I’d ever had. Heck, this could be my best morning ever! Unfortunately, all of my reverie was ripped asunder by my daughter’s hand appearing over my plate. My jaw grew slack as she removed two pieces of my coveted bacon. I looked up at her face with what I can only assume was an expression of dumbstruck confusion.
“Your blood pressure is too high,” she calmly stated. “Those three pieces are probably too much for you, too.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I knew she was right. She was demonstrating her love for me by preventing a possible stroke. I’m not even sure if they let you into Heaven if you die from a stroke following consumption of five slices of bacon on your first day of vacation, but I was willing to risk it.
I know my daughter loves me and was looking out for me. But… darn! That was almost the best morning of my life…
