This is going to be a somewhat convoluted post and its intent is not meant to be morbid and I am not thinking of dying.  Don't feel you need to read it...sometimes stuff is just on my mind and in the words of a good friend, Helen Aderholt..."John, you'd be a good politician if everything that came into your brain didn't come out your mouth"....or in this case fingers.

This past weekend I took two more grandchildren Xander (almost seven) and brother J.T. (almost four) on their first overnight camping trip away from home and without Mom and Dad.  It was an experience.  I enjoyed myself.  At one point, though, I did pass a Community Mental Health Center in Minden, La., and contemplated while waiting for the traffic light to change, “Should I just check myself in or leave them at the door?”

I gave them plenty of chances to go home before nightfall and they insisted on spending the night. In a tent, in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana, (Bisteneau State Park) the tent area was WiFi; we watched Jurassic Park on my computer.  I found a Dallas, Texas, oldies but goodies station and let it play all night. The boys slept well and a good night’s rest also allowed them to be helpful breaking down the campsite.  I turned them over to my daughter at a Waffle House some 20 miles away that morning and came home thinking about the following.

That’s the set up.  Here’s the story.

On Monday of this week, I went to Jackson, had lunch with good friends Cecil Brown and Jay Eads.  Cecil asked, “Why did you do it?”  Cecil is known to make some smart aleck remarks when we are together, so I let him know I would tell him if he didn’t laugh.

The bottom line is I did it because I was thinking of my own mortality and just had a hankering to do some things and that was one of them.  He leaned back in his chair and simply said, “I understand.”  I appreciated that.

That afternoon I related the same story to a lady in the clerk’s office.   And ended with about the same thing I told Cecil.  She stopped what she was doing and related to me that she was thinking the same thing and was writing a lot of her thoughts in very short paragraphs and putting them in a binder as she finishes a “chapter” to give to her children and grandchildren.

Her words were not flowery, nor poetic, but they ring with realism, a beautiful prose to be handed down to family members to come.  In their simplicity, they spoke of an honest story on why she only has a first and last name (no middle name because

her Mother did not want her to have a lot of names when she eventually got married) as well as other genuine thoughts. They were beautiful words that showed a loving

Mom and Grandmother.

Recently, I almost lost it when watching “America’s Got Talent.”  A group of homeless vets sang.  When they were interviewed later one said he lived on the streets for 28 years, another nearly 15.  They all have their lives together now, but when asked by Pierce why they do it, one answered, “Because we want to let other vets know it is OK to ask for help.”  God, I thought I would break down.  To know you are not alone.

Anyways, I’ve come to find out that I apparently am not alone in thinking of my mortality, end of life, what I have done, and what I want to be remembered for.

Maybe it’s just a phenomenon of crossing over (as in past 60 and applying for Social

Security).  Maybe it’s a phase.  Maybe I just want to go on road and camping trips with my grandchildren.

I don’t know…but I am given comfort to know I am not alone.