Coffee Break, the Farm, and Days Gone By…

My next patient was supposed to be a follow up after hospitalization, but she was still in the hospital. This meant that I had an unexpected hole in my clinic schedule.  I decided to go to the hospital cafeteria and get a coffee.  As I did so and was walking back to the office with the coffee cup in my hand my thoughts went back to, “coffee break.” 

We worked on my grandparent’s farm as we grew up. Working out in the fields together with my grandfather, father and brothers, my grandmother would come to bring us “coffee break.” Mid-morning coffee break would be with hot water, freeze dried coffee, and Styrofoam cups along with some type of cookie or roll. In the mid afternoon it would be Kool-Aid and perhaps slices of cheese and crackers. Often the cheese would have warmed on the trip to the field. I remember the cheese as being soft. It always seemed more appealing that way. 

I loved coffee break. It broke up the day and reduced the monotony of shaking cherries or picking peaches. I think back fondly to seeing my grandmother arrive with her little dog Blackie and whatever treat she had prepared for us. 

It is easy to get sentimental. I first started writing this blog a couple years ago when we had the sudden and unexpected loss of our Aunt Mary. That brought more change and with that came the reminder that life just keeps marching on whether I want it to or not. 

I wish I could rush back even if just for a moment. There is a movie where the main character can relive past moments and my heart longs to be back in the orchard with my grandfather, father and brothers. Life was simpler then (at least for me). While I may not have liked all the times working out in the orchards (it was indeed “work” and it could be hot or cold, and tiring and monotonous) I still would give a lot just to go back for an hour and relive it all. 

I would love to hear my grandfather and father talk as they climbed up and down ladders picking peaches. My grandfather always seemed to have some fascinating story or another from his various county commission or hospital board activities. He was a storyteller and he loved to tell the stories of current or past events. He and my dad both had wonderful ways of laughing. My grandmother was a small woman, but it never stopped her from doing whatever needed to be done. Everyone would marvel at how as a small woman she would climb up inside and drive the big farm trucks. She had her dog with her wherever she went. At their home, I would enjoy going and sitting by their dog and stroking his fur. If I went to market with her, she too would tell stories as we drove along together. 

I wish I could go back.

But I cannot.

Recently a coworker wisely reminded me that life is change. It doesn’t matter whether I like it or want it or not, life continues to move forward, and things continue to change.  We take the victories and losses, the joys and sorrows and live through them and then keep moving forward. 

It is like riding on a train or in a car and looking out the window. Everything keeps moving on whether I want it to or not. Maybe it is like Lucy and Ethel at the chocolate factory. The chocolates (or events of life) keep coming and it seems that ready or not they come faster and faster and faster.

What am I to do?

It is only natural that there are times when I want the world to stop and go backwards. I wish I could go back. I wish I could relive things. I wish I could enjoy simpler times from my past.

Life is change. Or as JFK put it, “Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.”^[1]

 I need to look forward. Today is going to be a memory tomorrow. I can and should face, experience and enjoy what today brings with an eye on tomorrow. 

But maybe, just for a moment, it is okay to sip my coffee and enjoy some crackers with sun warmed cheese and think of those I have loved, and times gone by. 

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^[1] Address in the Assembly Hall at the Paulskirche in Frankfurt (266),” June 25, 1963, Public Papers of the Presidents: John F. Kennedy, 1963.