When We Were Young
By W. F. Twyman, Jr.
The hour is late in San Diego.
On the way to work this morning, I turned to my wife and lamented. I lamented, that I did. My daughter and “Shelby” were having the time of their lives exploring Palm Springs. I love Palm Springs. Palm Springs and Me I said, “I wish I was in Palm Springs enjoying the desert floor and the vibes. Instead, you and I are going to work.” My wife turned to me as she always does during my flights of fancy. She said, “we had our fun when we were young. It’s their turn now.”
I know I am no longer young anymore. My receding hairline in the morning tells me. Why else do I wear the shaven head cut? My genes will not be mocked as I worry about a rising PSA level and my prostate. I don’t hear as good as I used to. My genes are the culprit once again. I cracked a tooth on a kernel of popcorn and felt vulnerable to my genes once again. Every morning, I take vitamin D, two tablets, and a high blood pressure pill. At night, there is another medicine regimen — cholesterol horse pill, steroid inhaler, Flonase inhaler, religious dental flossing, hand toothbrush, electric toothbrush, Listerine. No one ever told me that growing older meant a dislocated shoulder and anxiety about falling down the wrong way. And don’t get me started about the Battle of the Bulge.
No, dear readers, the body is not young anymore, although I do have the optic nerves of a twenty-one year old! Or so I was told at my last eye appointment.
Come closer, however, and I will tell you my secret. Dreams are ever green. When I think of Palm Springs in my mind, I am taken back in time to family holidays at the Palm Canyon Resort, the first time I experienced Christmas lights at night in Palm Springs, our first hotel stay in the desert at the Gene Audry resort, my first sight of snow-capped mountains in the distance and people below sunbathing around the pool, family trips with the kids up the Palm Springs Tram to the San Jacinto mountain top, exploring the Indian reservations, the library, the splendid humungous chocolate fudge brownies at Manhattan in the Desert, the Zoo in Palm Desert, the first time my Bright and Morning Star learned to drive…and she learned on the reservation...at Palm Springs.
Seems like only yesterday.
My wife got it wrong. As long as I have memory and music, I can take myself away in my mind back to Palm Springs and savor the beauty of the desert floor. I am never too old to remember what brought out joy in my heart. And with this knowledge, I can go on to work today and smile that we had a good run of it…when we were young.
Downtown Palm Springs, California
Memory and music!!!
My husband says I sing and hum around the house, all the time, sometimes without even realizing it.
I am usually in a good mood most of the time, and I figure that it has a lot to do with great music in my head.
Keep having those great memories and that music all the time!