Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Joy of ol' Timers

I'm sitting here at the (newly-built to me) Tim Hortons, listening with half an ear to the ol' timers coffee talk at tables around me.  Occasionally I'll stop what I'm doing, and find myself gazing around the lobby with a smile.  Here are 'my people', here are the ones that make me smile with pride, here are the men and women who have roughed it out, survived and still have a smile on their faces.

And as I come back to the present and really look at the Vetaran with his brand-new, unfitted U.S. Army ball cap, the weather worn farmer with camo hat and thick black rimmed glasses, the sturdy older woman with her Halloween embroidered bright orange sweatshirt, and all those in between, I'm also struck by the many piercing ice-blue eyes that I haven't noticed elsewhere in such abundance.  Piercing ice-blue eyes that are so common in my own family, and that I now know I associate with 'Home.'

And thus, I sit here and smile, feeling a sense of connectedness that makes my heart sing.  These are truly 'those who came before,' who represent the way things were.  And a sense of deja vu washes over me, as I liken this gathering, this rhythm and murmur of speech and smiles, to many conversations at the Farm, barn talks at the fairs, and countless family gatherings - it's the music of my younger years.  Steady voices, rarely a voice raised to make a point, no overly boastful tones, just pure down home conversation mingled with low chuckles and many smiling faces.

With that recognition, I get back to work with a lighter, grateful heart and a smile on my face - thankful for this unexpected gift and to be home.

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