No Future to Plan

Yesterday, Michael was thinking that not having a distant future was freeing. 

A great weight had been lifted from him. 

The past was gone. There was no future to plan for. 

There was no future to worry about. 

All he has is now.

When Michael was a young man he had to think about his future.  It was expected that when Michael turned 18 years old, he would get a job or go to college.  He decided he wanted to go to college. Coming from a poor family made this a bit of a challenge. The school counselors didn’t really pay attention to this kid from “the wrong side” of the tracks. 

For him, this term was literally true. 

Michael was 6 of 7 children who his parents raised near the train switch yard in Fargo, ND. These children spanned 25 yrs from the oldest to the youngest so his Mom was 44 yrs when she gave birth to her last child.

Michael was born in Moorhead, MN. His Mom walked the 3.4 miles, over the bridge to St Ansgar Hospital from Fargo, ND while in labor. Because of the spring flood, she beat the doctor to the hospital. She was 42 yrs old. 

They lived on the poor side of town. His Dad walked to work every day at his job at the front counter of an auto parts store because they didn’t own a car. His Mom stayed at home raising children for 43 some years.

The house he grew up in was very small. By today’s standard, it would be considered a larger “Tiny House”. 

He remembers walking everywhere with his Mom. When they went to the grocery store or the laundromat, he remembers pulling the little red wagon that held the clothes or the groceries. By the time I met his Mom, she was approaching 70. I would walk places with her when I visited. Even though I was a 21 yr old athlete and quite a bit taller than her, I struggled to keep up with her. She was tougher than nails!

So because college was a future he wanted, he had to figure out how to do it. Finding a way to pay for this was up to him. The college counselors didn’t seem to think he was worth the time helping, though his test scores showed otherwise. The poverty aspect was just too over arching.

His brothers, also wanted to get an education. Some of them found their way, by entering the military.

Michael followed suit, but in his own way. 

His Mom took the kids to The First Congregational United Church of Christ on Sunday.  At the time, they had a notable member of the church. Senator Quentin Burdick of North Dakota was also a member, though he was rarely present at church. At the time of his death, in 1992, he was the third longest-serving senator (after Strom Thurmond  and Robert Byrd) among current members of the Senate. 

Michael wrote to Senator Burdick asking for a nomination to a military academy. When he received his answer, he found that Senator Burdick had secured nominations to ALL of the service academies for Michael. Michael chose West Point because his poor eye sight precluded his admission to the other academies.

This was the way he could figure out to get himself an education. 

During the turbulent years of the Vietnam Nam War, Michael entered West Point. That first tough year, he remembers the rigorous training that left him (and others) literally crawling up the stairs in the evening. 

But he was formed and built of tough material. 

He successfully completed the difficult first year training period without receiving any demerits. This was an outstanding accomplishment, however, it could not be allowed to stand. The last inspection left him receiving one lone demerit for “pubic hair on pillow”. This was their way of not allowing him to get through with a  spotless record, yet give him a nod for his accomplishment. 

He always said that the way he made it through this year at West Point was to avoid anyone knowing his name. He tried to blend in, as much as possible...to just be one anonymous cog in “The Long Grey Line”.

But then a seminal occurrence happened. 

In preparation for the cadet’s future military life, the vaccinations began. These were not just your simple every day vaccines. What was given was a vast array of different inoculations all at the same time...some were probably more obscure ones.

Michael’s body rebelled. His arm and upper body swelled up like a well stuffed sausage. His tee shirt had to be cut off.  He spent some days in the infirmary. 

Then they did it again. He reacted even worse. 

The doctors were not recommending further shots.

He, then, had a decision to make. Risk dying from the continuing vaccinations and the escalating allergic reactions if he stayed, or leave West Point. 

He left West Point, though the school tried to get him to stay.

Of course, that meant he would be eligible for the draft because men were actively being sent to Vietnam Nam at that point. 

 After he was out his number did indeed come up; he was number 106 for the next draft round. The last draft had called up to 103 so he was in the third position to get drafted, which was a sure thing. 

But before he got drafted, the draft was ended. 

He dodged that bullet...and probably quite literally. 

That reaction to the vaccines was probably the first sign of the rare disease that would remain undiagnosed for nearly 40 years. 

The disease that would ravage his body and the disease that he passed genetically to his oldest child. 

This disease killed his kidney function with its symptoms and the disease led him to where he is today.

There is a Zen saying that one should not wish for an easy practice (or in other terms: an easy life). An easy practice does not test you deep. 

Through his life, which I will write about in future posts, he has not had an easy practice. 

However, Michael has faced his life and future with the toughness honed by life experiences. 

But today, he has discovered an ease after the years of difficulty.

He has put down the burden of a future and he has put down the heavy memories of the past. 

Today, he is here. He woke up this morning. 

The day is a lovely pre Fall day with a warmish breeze. The old apple tree outside our apartment is dropping apples, some of which are half nibbled by the grey squirrel that lives in our nearby trees. 

The leaves are turning and falling onto our deck. Friends are coming for a visit. 

No future to plan, no worries to carry.

There is the life that is right here in front of him. 

He sits and the world revolves, life flows around him right here, right now. 

Today he is alive and there are good moments to live.