Standing at Life’s Watershed

“And there’s always retrospect
(when you’re looking back)
To light a clearer path
Every five years or so I look back on my life
And I have a good laugh
You start at the top
(start at the top)
Go full circle round
Catch a breeze
Take a spill
But ending up where I started again
Makes me wanna stand still.”
—from Watershed by the Indigo Girls

___________________

I had lunch on Wednesday with a good friend, then did the same with another friend on Friday. In between, on Thursday, I turned sixty-seven years old. Both lunches were filled with talk about getting older. For some reason, that was on my mind.

Both of my friends are older than I am. They have more experience and wisdom. One of them is eighty-three. I joked that he can’t even see sixty-seven in his rearview mirror anymore. I talked about looking back on my life and reflecting on the stupid things I’ve done. They both dismissed it as a waste of time—nothing but a rabbit hole. There’s no point in reviewing old mistakes because they’re in the past, and there isn’t a damn thing that can be done about any of it.

Of course, they’re right. Pondering the past only has value if the lessons learned shape the present. And the present is all there is—no past, no future, only now. For all three of us, “now” is packed solid with responsibilities. There’s no time to ruminate on what might have been. Reminiscing is a hobby, something for people with time on their hands. We don’t have that luxury. Our days are full.

My two friends spend much of their time caring for sick spouses. I spend my days (and often my nights) watching over a four-year-old boy. All three of us have a mission, a reason to get up in the morning. Others depend on us. Our lives aren’t always easy, but we have purpose, and that makes all the difference.

When we meet, we vent about our struggles, but we’d never abandon the people who need us. In an odd way, we’re blessed. We know what needs to be done, and we do it. The people I pity are those who seem lost—bored with life, unwilling to commit, afraid to get involved. They exist, but they don’t really live.

Every day, we stand up on the watershed.

“Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agony’s your heaviest load

You’ll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When you’re learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while.”
—from Watershed by the Indigo Girls

_______________________________

Frank (Francis) Pauc is a graduate of West Point, Class of 1980. He completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course at Fort Huachuca and then went to Flight School at Fort Rucker. Frank was stationed with the 3rd Armor Division in West Germany at Fliegerhorst Airfield from December 1981 to January 1985. He flew Hueys and Black Hawks and was next assigned to the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, CA. He got the hell out of the Army in August 1986.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.