About Me

Pearl City, HI, United States
Husband, father, grandfather, friend...a few of the roles acquired in 68 years of living. I keep an upbeat attitude, loving humor and the singular freedom of a perfect laugh. I don't let curmudgeons ruin my day; that only gives them power over me. Having experienced death once, I no longer fear it, although I am still frightened by the process of dying. I love to write because it allows me the freedom to vent those complex feelings that bounce restlessly off the walls of my mind; and express the beauty that can only be found within the human heart.

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Two Weeks in the Grandchildren Zone



Copyright © 2019
by Ralph F. Couey

For someone neck-deep into the later years of life, there is usually a kind of mundane sameness to each day.  We have our routines, constructed around the things we have to do along with a little time for what we like to do.  Day after day, the calendar ticks along, the days passing all too quickly, like posts flashing past the windows of a speeding car.  There is a kind of grayness to that existence.  Then, one day grandchildren show up.

They burst into the house, bringing a most wonderful noise with them.  They smile big, and come at you with arms wide, ready for that first great big hug.  They're all full of news about where they've been, what they've been doing...little lives full of really big things.

The first thing you notice is that they grow.  Rapidly.  Too rapidly.  They're taller, their speech more sophisticated.  For the older ones, you begin to see the beginnings of that descent into madness we have come to know...and remember...as adolescence.  But it's all new stuff wrapped up into special lives that you know you can never live without.  One of the wonderful things that I've come to realize is to recognize that these are lives for whom the story has yet to be written.  I have to admit that there are days when I feel tired and used up.  But spending even a few minutes with my grandchildren, I realize that there is still so much life yet to be lived.  

You see, because of my long perspective, I see a world where people choose to divide themselves based on blind obeisance to party politics.  I see a world where violent crime and senseless acts become more common.  I see a world spiraling down into some kind of suicidal black hole.  But even a few minutes with grandchildren, and I realize that in these young lives hope survives.  In their presence, I believe that the world can survive; that things can be better if for no other reason than they can make it happen.

Monday, December 09, 2019

When Did I Get So Old???

"My face carries all my memories.
Why would I erase them?
--Diane Von Furstenberg

Copyright © 2019
by Ralph F. Couey

It's kind of funny that we can be so consumed by the requirements of each individual day that we can become blind to the larger passage of time.  When we finally recognize that particular albatross, it is a moment of shock, and at times, dismay.  Usually we confront that moment when we see people we once knew as children who are now full-grown adults.  Also for sports fans, when we attend an Old Timers Day and we see athletes we remember as young, strong, and graceful who now are gray, bent, and shuffling.  Of course, we never, ever think that such a deterioration is happening to us.

Last week, in anticipation of my grandson's birthday, I recorded a video in which I sang "Happy Birthday" (didn't pay the royalty) and wished him best wishes for the day.  I attached the video to a text message and prepared to send it to his parents.  (Ain't the 21st Century grand?)  Before sending, I reviewed the recording.  I was shocked.  The face that smiled back at me from my phone was....old!  The skin hung loosely off the cheeks and jowls. The eyes were almost lost in folds of wrinkles that I swear hadn't been there yesterday.  My smile turned my forehead into something which resembled a topographical map of the Appalachians.  Even my earlobes seemed to have gotten longer.  Atop it all was a roof of silver hair within which all traces of the original color had somehow vanished.  What had once been a youthful visage had now surrendered to Father Time.