Reflection

By Keith N Fisher

I went to the doctor the other day. No big deal you might say, but believe it or not, I haven’t seen a doctor in thirteen years. Before that, it was probably twelve. Not that I have anything against them, I just have other things to spend money on.

Hearing the diagnosis, with more test results to follow, made me reflect on what I’ve done with my life. Things have changed a lot since the picture at the right was taken. That’s me on the left, being manhandled into the picture by my brother.

I spent my childhood in an almost Norman Rockwell type of existence. My friends and I could pack a lunch in the morning, be gone all day and never run into another house. There were farms and ranches where we lived and if we went far enough, there was Utah Lake.

We were free to let our imaginations run wild and we did. There were sand dunes, and orchards. There were abandoned houses we believed were haunted. Yes I had a great childhood.

As a teenager in the late sixties and seventies, life became complicated. Turbulent times called for difficult choices. Many of us were confused. We didn’t want to die in Southeast Asia, but we learned patriotism in the Boy Scouts. We built rope bridges and pole towers, went camping and let our hair grow. I barely missed having to register for the draft, but I have friends and relatives who served.

Later, after high school, I worked in the construction trades and wasted a lot of time without any direction. Then, through a series of events I found God. I returned to my roots and went on a mission at twenty-six years old.

I married my high school sweetheart after, and went about making a living. I worked on the degree I’d started before, but Architecture had lost its charm. Life has a way of making you change your plans.

I’ve made a living in several different occupations, grabbing experience along the way. Now, I use that experience plotting stories. I expect to live another fifty years, putting my adventures to good use.

Thanks for letting me ramble. Good luck with your writing—see you next week.