Living Who I Am

I have just finished reading Wendell Berry’s “Jaber Crow”. This is one of the best novels I have ever experienced. How do I make that judgment? Because when I am finished I am sad. I am leaving behind people I love and a sense of place I would like to remain in.

Reading this book caused me to think a lot about living who I am made to be; living the “place” I was made to live. Sometimes, many times, this does not fit the culture of our world.

As I read this book that was set in the south, I thought of my dad. Reuben grew up in Arkansas. They were farmers. I have gotten the idea that most people who grew up in that region of the States wanted one thing…..to get out; mostly to move to the dream of California. I understand the economics of the depression would have pushed people to look for the land of opportunity. But, I also wonder how many, by moving, lost part of who they were.

Reuben came to California straight from his military service. I’m not sure if he ever even stopped in Arkansas after his dishcarge . His family had moved to California while he was oversees.

For most of his adult life he lived a California life. Got a job. Worked 9 – 5. When I was very young he hunted. We had hunting dogs and many weekends he would head for the woods. Every vacation we ever took was to the east side of the Sierras. My dad lived for those vacations. We would drive into places no one else would dare to go (and without 4-wheel drive). I often wondered if we would be able to get out. He would leave early in the morning and hike to places to fish; always coming home with dinner.

When I had been married a few years Reuben and Lona bought some property “out in the middle of nowhere”. The first time I saw it I must admit I wasn’t too sure. For a couple of years they lived part time in a trailer on this property while their home was being built and part time in the back of my mom’s beauty salon.

They turned this property into paradise. The house was lovely but the rest of the property was an oasis: fruit trees, vegetable garden, flowers, and room for a pig and a beefalo. My parents became alive again.

Many years later in following Brad and I back to Fresno they bought another home with some land. It had an almond orchard and two ponds. My dad would “fish” from the pond and work to keep the property beautiful. Feeling they were getting too old to do the work they moved to the city; nice house on a small lot.

That’s when my dad started to die.

When we moved to Seattle and Reuben and Lona once again wanted to follow us, I admit my dad was one of the reasons I wanted the house we bought in Edmonds. The creek, the woods. I thought it would give him one last chance to be surrounded by what seem to bring life to him. It was too late though. By the time we moved them in with us he couldn’t get up and down the hill to sit beside the creek and he died just 3 months later.

Why am I writing this now? Jaber Crow has made me aware of living who I am. There have been times over these last 10 months that I have thought Brad and I are too old to be starting something new. Then I remembered my dad was 64 years old when they moved to their little country life. As long as he lived who he was deep inside…a lover of the land and of nature….he stayed young and full of life.

I need to continue to recognize who I am deep inside. What am I made of? Where do I find myself? What brings life to my spirit?

These may not be the things others give value or worth to, but that doesn’t really matter. Life and the love of living come from being our true selves.


Footnote:  I wish I had a more recent picture of my dad on my computer.  I loved his gentle wrinkles.