If I were to condense my life into one phrase it would be; "
Almost, but not quite". I was almost good at a lot of things, but I never quite reached the point of being great at anything. Even though it seems like most of my everyday life fell short, I suppose I hit one homerun which I will talk about in a moment.
I was always physically a year behind everyone else growing up; never quite big enough to play football, never quite fast enough to be a good sprinter, never had enough endurance to be a good distance guy, a solid swimmer but never competitive, never quite smart enough to make the honor roll, almost a good artist but not quite, always wanted to learn how to fly, but never did, still looking to capture that one great photograph, was a decent marksman but never an expert...you get the idea. Oh, I was somewhat competitive in most of those endeavors, but always seemed to fall short. There was always someone faster, bigger, stronger, smarter, more talented.
Even so, in spite of all that, I suppose I never gave up, but kept on trying, kept on pursuing that next level. There were times I felt discouraged because i could not get there, and times I felt like I actually made some progress. Most of the time I simply pressed on biding my time until another day when I might make that forward leap to the next level, until one day I realized time and age had finally caught up with me. The windows of opportunity gradually began to shut never to be reopened. A few new ones jarred loose from time to time, but barely cracked open enough to allow for a clear opportunity to materialize.
Even as a photographer, there are times I feel like I've almost achieved something unique and powerful, until I see the works of other truly talented photographers and realize I am still a long ways off. I often fondly recall times from my past that were truly unique in their own right. My time in the military qualifies for such, but even so I realize how I missed a lot of opportunities back then to achieve a higher level of accomplishment. I suppose I was never destined to experience the moment(s) of excellence my heart always felt like it could achieve.
But, you know, all that is okay, because as I ponder on all the events of my life, collectively they add up to a great deal more than their individual values. Because I have accomplished a great deal in spite of those apparent short falls. I've hiked across and deep into the high country of the Rocky Mountains. I've kept myself physically fit, I've gained an education that lead to a career that supported my family, purchased my now paid for home, and gave me a sense of purpose for many years. I've witnessed numerous sunrises as I've sat inside my canoe on gentle waters, and stood transfixed as countless prairie sunsets bid my day farewell. I've felt the cold wind on my face and the hot sun on my back, and weathered many storms both physically and internally. I've stood spellbound beneath a starry sky to witness one of the grandest displays of creation. I've witnessed the birth of my two sons and watched them grow into men. I've spent more hours just sitting on the front porch as the morning awakens and as the evening dissipates into the night. I've sailed on storm tossed seas and performed life threatening rescues and had someone gratefully shake my hand for having done so. These are but a token of the life defining events of my life, all of them lead and contributed to that one perfectly defining moment.
I did manage to achieve the highest mark on one thing. It is what I call my homerun moment, the moment when I stood with knees shaking and thoughts of an uncertain future haunting me as my new bride walked down the isle and took my hand as my life partner. Through all the almost forty one years, she stood by me, encouraged, corrected, guided, cried, consoled, confided, and offered herself as a beacon of light in my often sometimes stormy, sometimes dull life. Everything else pales in comparison, for she was the defining moment of my life, and she has been the God given lighthouse that has always brought me through to a safe harbor.