Fire on the Mountain
I stood there watching her hold his hand for the last time. Even though I’d heard stories, there was never a moment he seemed dangerous. One June afternoon we met in his kitchen. Seated quietly behind the kitchen table, soon he would be out running heavy equipment. Yes, he’d been eligible for social security for a while now, and he never stopped working. Despite being older and sometimes lonely, he made the most of his sense of adventure. He’d take the horse trailer for a weekend getaway. Perhaps drink from a mason jar and howl at the moon. A man never confused about his age, just confusing you with the wrinkled and bruised skin. Folks fail to see the identity issues many of us have. A person we all acknowledge is still experiencing loneliness. They make choices to take on greater risks in the hopes of duplicating old feelings. The sort ...