2024 is in the books. Did the year seem to fly by, as so many times we ask ourselves, where did it go? I remember the crops that never seemed to end. Back in the day, July would drag, and August moved like molasses in wintertime while cotton insects seemed to multiply by the hour. I don’t know who was more thankful when the crop season ended, me, the farmer, or the bugs. It was probably a mutual feeling when a truce was called by all parties. Today, it seems like even the crops move faster, though we all know the minutes and hours in the day are static. However, there must be something to this phenomenon of how time so quickly slips away. Maybe we should ask Ole Wille, for he’s long in the tooth, and perhaps knows more about the calendar clicking than any of us.
I’m sure many of you have established “New Year’s Resolutions.” I’ve never been a fan of writing down my “resolutions” and keeping to an agenda. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for setting goals and staying diligent with trying to accomplish these. Whether it’s staying in the gym to lose the holiday pounds that seem to find their way to my waistline, or keeping those biceps and back muscles toned to be able to not only draw my bow but hold it when that wary ole buck picks me out during the drawing process, I don’t consider these “resolutions.” Rather, these are just everyday endeavors that just need to become habits. I have read where habits are not truly considered habits until you “do” them everyday for at least six months.
You might want to keep this in mind for those endeavors, both good and bad. I try and do my best to stay focused to do what needs to be done to accomplish goals. Sure, there will always be obstacles that get in the way that delay your journey but stay the course as best you can and if there is a disruption in your routine, try and get back on track as quickly as possible. Did you notice I said “journey”? As far as I’m concerned, there is never a finish line, just a continuation of a remarkable journey.
So, if this article is not about resolutions, what is my message. I suppose this is more of an invitation to not procrastinate following your dreams. More appropriate would be to not miss chasing your dreams. If you’re not an early riser, why don’t you try getting up 30 minutes earlier than you normally do. Pour a cup of coffee, or a diet coke for some of you, and step outside when the sky is still pink and watch the day come alive. Maybe you have a porch you could sit on and listen to the sounds of the morning. If you have a bird feeder you could watch, all the better. My grandfather used to say that if you missed the sunrise, you have missed half the day. Have something to look forward to every day. Whether it’s pulling some weeds in the tomato patch, walking on a treadmill, or taking a leisurely drive down a country road, plan to do something every day.
I remember when my dad retired, he thought he could hunt and fish every day. He could and he did for about two weeks. Boredom soon set in, and his daily routine became the same. He would go to the coffee shop for an hour or so, then he went to the gun shop for a few hours, then he would return home to his recliner. I watched him decline mentally and physically. If I learned two things from Pop, it was this; you must enjoy your work and not dread going to work every day. I also learned that one must stay active both physically and mentally. Consequences for not doing both are dire. Remember, we’re not on this earth for a long time. Make the most of it and cherish every day.
Several weeks ago, I lost a great friend, and I must share his story. On second thought, it wasn’t just me, many of us lost a true friend, and more than that we lost a special person that will not be replaced or forgotten. This will be difficult.
I can’t remember the exact day I met Michael Parnell, but I would guess it was around the time when T-ball started for John Hartley and Mike and Teresa’s son Ben. Our two sons’ friendship and baseball were the common ground that began our relationship as well. In time, Michael and I began coaching baseball together. I took note of how he worked with each player to not only make them a better baseball player, but more importantly, better boys and eventually better men. Mike was an encourager beyond description. No matter what the circumstances were, Mike could lift up anyone. If a kid went 0-4 with two errors, Michael could find something good to build upon and restore confidence and a smile to the youngster. He did the same as a basketball coach. With a towel draped across his shoulder, he was up and down the court coaching every second of the game. Sure, he was engaged to win the game, but more importantly, he was in the game to mold young men into something much greater. He accomplished this flawlessly too.
By being neighbors, Michael was exposed to hunting and fishing. Imagine that. The time came when he wanted to try his hand at deer hunting. As far as I know, “Parny” didn’t even own a bow or rifle. No worries, I had plenty of gear. We settled in one afternoon together and it didn’t take long before an opportunity was presented. I handed my rifle to Mike and briefly told him what to do. I remember watching him settle in behind the rifle. This may have been the first time he ever looked through a scope as far as I know. It wasn’t a chip shot, but at 140 yards, when the rifle cracked, he just looked back over his shoulder at me and said with a grin, “I got him, didn’t I?” Indeed, he did. He looked like a pro.
The subject of duck hunting came up one day, so off to the delta we went. With decoys set, we settled in the blind to watch the waterfowl world come to life. I told him, the first ducks into the spread were his. It didn’t take long, and a pair of mallards read the script. They cupped and were boots down just above the decoys. In just a second they both lifted into the wind and headed for waters elsewhere. I looked at him and asked why he didn’t shoot? He replied, “I’m waiting on it to get right.” The look on his face was priceless when I said, “it doesn’t get any better than that.” We laughed about that for years. If I remember, we collected our limits that morning but also collected memories for a lifetime.
On several occasions we took our boys fishing together. Michael got pretty good at coaxing bass to hit his H&H spinnerbait. Heh, he was not only good at coaching sports, but he was good at teaching the fish to bite too.
Michael was probably the most organized person I know. Whether it was his garage, his truck, or anything else, words can’t describe how detailed he was. He didn’t cut his lawn, he manicured it. Meticulous wouldn’t begin to describe how he mowed, edged, and trimmed. I remember watching him take baby steps behind the mower. When he finished though, it looked like number 12 at Augusta National. He loved playing golf with Ben and his family. I remember tagging along with him at a few golf tournaments and he even coached me on the aspects of the game.
More than that though, I consider him a mentor for life. Devoted Christian, husband, father, and role model, we got cheated when he left us all too soon. One thing is for certain, my life is better for knowing him, coaching with him, and hunting and fishing with him. He is indeed the man that we should all strive to be.
We all have trials in life. How we respond to them is what defines us and allows us to grow or not. Michael had a gift for helping people through difficult situations. I remember him saying that the sun will always rise again. Darkness will always yield to the light. Truer words have never been spoken.
I know Teresa and Ben will miss him tremendously, but as time flies so quickly by, they will be reunited again before we realize it. I know he’ll have the lawns and gardens manicured too. We miss you, Mike, but we are all blessed to have known you. We’ll see you again too. Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
