Contemplating the Nature of Change

So I went on a solo trip to see my folks over the weekend. I don't go often enough (for any of us) but my excuses are work and life and it's a long drive, and the best times to go are exactly the worst times in my work schedule. So I only make it once or at the most twice a year.

Before I go any further I have to let all of you know that my parents are incredible. They are quiet ordinary people that have lived a life of grace and beauty that I fear is rare these days. And beauty in an expanded definition: my family never had more than just enough money, we lived very simply (they still do) and few luxuries. But there was always good food on the table (mostly homegrown) a sound roof over our heads, and we never went shoeless (except in the spring and summer and that was by choice) or wanted for any necessity. My mom stayed at home, dad worked and we did a lot of farming, and just grew up quietly in what was then a very rural part of the country. They are active and committed to their faith, but in a quiet unassuming way. They are good people and I am fortunate beyond words to have them for parents.

Anyways, the trip...they live in eastern NC, in the hot flatlands. Not even a bump in the road to disturb the horizon. It gets incredibly hot and miserable there starting about this time of year and lasting thru Sept; high temps and humidity that suffocates you. I was long gone from home before they even considered air conditioning, now a mandatory requirement of the whole population. As an aside, I have to say the weather was the best it's been in the past 20 years. Cool dry breezy days, very disorienting.

My folks are in their middle 70's, very active, still maintaining the place and having a huge (and I mean farm family huge) garden of every vegetable possible, and strawberries, blueberries, melons and grapes. Their garden will easily feed a family of ten in season, with still plenty for canning and freezing, which they continue to do. And feed the neighborhood they do- my dad likes to give stuff away, best if people are in need, so they pick whatever is ready, take what they want, and then he'll drive around and give the rest away. They like to share whatever they have.

When I was growing up, the area was all farmland. The soil in that part of the country was so rich you didn't even have to try to grow things, they just did. It was the heart of tobacco growing country, so every farm had tobacco (a big cash crop at the time) corn, beans and some cotton. Most folks had animals too, usually pigs but some cows, and of course chickens. Entertainment consisted of riding around and visiting, and usually food and eating were involved. In the summers folks would gather under trees and make ice cream. Simple stuff.

We had 10 acres. Dad and I cleared a spot for the house by hand, and eventually a place for a pasture and barn, which grew to a couple of salvaged outbuildings. We always had a couple of cows, often times some goats and chickens. Rarely pigs, because they can be a pain and so many people had them we could trade something for one. We had our own smokehouse, and butchered all the meat (cows, pigs, chickens) ourselves for years. It's just what people did. Of course, the huge gardens. Dad always had a soft spot for some kind of exotic animal "just to mess with", usually fowl. We went thru phases of ornamental chickens, turkeys, peacocks (for years!) and pheasants. He'd build incubators and hatch off eggs and build a little flock, and let them run loose around the barn and pasture. I always took it forgranted that's what everyone did. Dad likes to have something to do so he always had animals around. And of course there was the cast off machinery and equipment people would bring him, and he'd fix it up and get it running like new and use it or give it away to people who didn't have anything and needed it.

I of course couldn't wait to get out of there, having been worked like a migrant laborer my whole life, and unable to appreciate at the time how lucky I was. So I left about 28 years ago and went out into the world rarely to return. And now on my infrequent trips back, I get really sad at what has been lost there.

You see, the story there is much like so many other places in the country. It is being suburbanized, in a big way. When I was growing up, it was trees and farmland and farm ponds, blackwater creeks and dirt roads. Now, houses. Big, stupid MacMansions, on 3 and 5 acre lots, with not a tree in sight. Mom and Dad now possess the only wild woods for 5 square miles. Everything else has been cleared and "developed" Artificial ponds, sown and manicured lawns. White fences. Where the nearest house used to be a mile away, now there are at least 10 big houses within rock throwing distance of my folks house. Progress is closing in around them. The roads are paved, there is traffic, the predominant sound is air conditioners instead of cicadas, and SUV's blast up and down the long flat roads.

Mom and dad sit in the swings and watch the world come to their doorstep. They don't resist it, just take it all in in a matter-of-fact way. There are no more animals on the place, because we used to make our own feed from gatherings and tradings on the farms (hay, corn, molasses) and that's all gone. Plus the places and equipment to make feed have been shut down: it's more economical to buy it off a railroad car. There's too much traffic around, and unruly dogs to have yard animals. The barns, sheds and smokehouse are looking a little run down from disuse, and the repaired equipment stands silent for lack of reason to use. It reminds me of a David Smith quote that had to do with the great and ponderous silence of stilled machines, or something like that.

They still have the gardens, which is where they spend most of their spring and summer time and keeps them active. But their whole way of life is being rubbed away- at least the way they used to live. Many of their friends are dying off, and while they are in good health they are reminded every day of the finiteness of life. They wear this well, like so much other stuff just accept it as part of the deal. When my sister died a few years ago it was extremely hard on them. Parents shouldn't outlive their kids. My sister had been sick on and off for years (cancer) and they just took every day as it came, doing the best they could, and helping her out however they could. When she passed away, my dad said "it's bad and it's sad, but the sun still will come up tomorrow morning, and you have two choices: either give up, or do the best you can do. And if the sun doesn't come up, well, then that's a bigger problem than what we do..."

Watching them, and watching how their life is changing makes me feel a little old. It really makes me think of change in general. It's the natural occurrence of things, and I wonder why I am so resistant to it at times. Maybe better to take a lesson from them (ever the teachers by example) and just flow along with the river. They are always very careful to not label change as good or bad, but just different. Their focus is more on the people around them, and what they can do to help out and get along. And they keep their feet on the ground, solidly, and don't let change or the world swirling around them get them out of balance much. Slow, steady, solid, graceful and elegant. An extraordinary life in the face of unending changes. What an example to learn from and live up to.

Hope everyone has a great day and finds a way to flow easily with the changes around you.