Ups 'N Downs

I've been in somewhat of a melancholy mood as of late. I suppose writing and thinking of lost love, my grandparent's estate sale, the death of my dear 'ol ma and other assorted mileposts along my route just have put me in sort of a dark yin mood. But hey, all of us know ups and downs, joys and suffering. It's part of the ride we're each on.

Because I like to add even more pain to my blue moods, I utilized Google maps to take a look at an aerial photo of my grandparent's old place on Lake Hamilton in Hot Springs, Arkansas.

Back in the 1930s, when this man-made lake was being formed out of the Ouachita River, my grandpa -- being the shrewd businessman that he was -- purchased an entire finger of land which would soon become sought after lakefront property. Over the years, he sold it off lot by lot and pocketed a pretty penny for his foresight.

By the time I came along, only about one-fifth of the original mass of land was left. It included my grandparent's house, about 2 acres of adjacent land and another small parcel with a small cabin that included a downstairs open patio area that was called the crow's nest. (The cabin burned down at some point during my childhood.) The final bit of the property was now owned by my Great Uncle George and his wife, Hope -- my grandmother's twin sister.

Some of my fondest (yet vague) memories are of my days spent at grandma and grandpa's. Though by many standards their spread was not large, it was plenty big enough for me. I literally spent hours in their small forest communing with nature. I also have fond images of lazy evenings on the back porch listening to the waves of the lake lapping against the seawall.

Looking down on the area now via Google Maps, it makes me want to scream! My grandparent's house has been razed and Jerry's Point (the area of land just east of the house) has been cleared of its forest and replaced by a gaudy house and a manicured lawn. The dock and boat house both have been removed. The old time charm of my youth is gone. The only vestige that remains is the main street that bisects the area -- Sparling Road (named after my grandparents).

I mentioned to my wife that I sure wish we could win hundreds of millions of dollars in the lottery -- it might help just a scintilla if we actually bought a ticket! I told her that, if money was no object, I would march down to Arkansas tomorrow to buy off all those interlopers. I'd raze each house, so I could put things back to the way they are supposed to be!!!

But alas, reality interrupted my dream. Not only are we not stinking rich, but it would be impossible to recreate the genuine feel, sights, sounds and smells of the house and property that now only exist in photos and my memory. It was what it was when it was, but it no longer exists and it's not coming back.

That's why I'm blue.