A good friend of mine called yesterday to make sure I had seen his text to me about all the turkeys that are on his property in Kentucky. I apologized for not getting back to him and assured him that I had seen it. He ‘s been a good friend decades and his property is just over the valley from the farm where I was born. When we lived there, there were no wild turkeys or deer. Now they are abundant.
My friend is a retired Kentucky State Police detective and one of the longest serving officers in that department’s history. He served in several locations over the state with distinction and was well known as a “no nonsense” officer. He’s also a U.S. Marine who served his country and has kept the values of that organization all of his life.
Our conversations are never short. We discuss current affairs as well as history. We often wonder at the state of the world and how exactly we got to be where we are. Like many “old guys” we may remember history with a bit of bias and we may even romanticise it, although I’d never use that word in our conversations.
Our conversation yesterday drifted off to some of our high school classmates and how many were no longer with us. We’ve had a reunion the last few years and each year it seems, we’ve lost a classmate or two just before of just after that event. “I couldn’t make it this year but I’ll be there next year,” has been heard from several for whom there was not a next year.
I was one of those who said that last year. It really started me thinking about how we consider the future as if we somehow control it. How many times have we said, “See you tomorrow”, or even “See you later,” as if we had the ability to make that happen? Of course we make plans and we should. Living without any plan is not what we’re meant to do. Being assured of tomorrow however is another matter.
As my friend and I talked, he told me of some upcoming surgery the day after tomorrow. He’s been putting it off but now it’s reached the point where it must be done. He’s a tough guy so I know that he must be in real pain to agree to having it done. He still does hard physical work on his farm. He has cattle that he feeds each day and he also helps some friends and relatives who are older with their work. He’s a good man.
I was reflecting on that when he asked, “If we’re both in good health, will you come over and hunt turkeys with me this year?” I readily agreed and told him I’d really like to do that. I think we both realize that we don’t control our futures but if possible, we’d like to go on another hunt together.