We went to a fair last night. It was the second fair we have attended hosted by our granddaughters, ages 5 and 8. The popcorn was delicious, although it did seem like the 11-year-old who was in charge of distributing popcorn ate more than the rest of us combined. I was remarkably successful at “pin the tail on the unicorn,” but did not do well at all with the maze. None of the adults did well on the maze, which had passageways designed for bodies with less volume than ours. I made it through two rounds of “magical chairs” before being eliminated. Magical chairs was remarkably similar to musical chairs, but I was corrected when I used the wrong name for the game. The game 4 corners was new to me, but I succeeded in being the second to last to be eliminated from the game. The piñata was remarkably tough, surviving multiple hits from three children and four adults before breaking. I was awarded one mint-flavored sucker from the piñata. The children divided most of the spoils, which was fine with me. I think the stash of candy came from the post-holiday sales bin at the grocery store.

All-in-all, it was a delightful event and I’m glad we were invited. On Thursday, we will have our youngest grandchild, who is 11 months old for a couple of hours so his mother can catch up with a bit of paperwork from her office. Susan will volunteer in a kindergarten classroom in the afternoon and we will attend a middle school choir concert in the evening.

These are all events that we would have missed were we still living in South Dakota. It is for events like these that we made the move to the Pacific Northwest.

According to financial experts and advisors, spending the bulk of one’s active career in the Dakotas and then retiring to the Northwest coast isn’t the wisest of financial decisions. I’ve read a few articles saying that we could live with more luxury and have more financial security had we made different decisions. Lately, however, I have found such articles to be quite boring and I pretty much have given up reading them. They never evaluate the benefits of spur of the moment carnivals or middle school choir concerts. They never consider the health benefits of holding a sleeping baby while rocking in a comfortable recliner. They don’t count the sheer joy of doing farm chores side by side with your son.

Like an old advertisement on late night cable television, “But wait! There’s more!” The security of having our son and his family just a couple of miles down the road is more valuable than having money invested in a volatile market. Our neighbors recognize his family’s vehicles, and expect them to be in our driveway even when we are out of town. Returning home from a trip to find a baby toy that has rolled under the sofa is way more fun than finding a slew of undone chores.

Mind you, we had incredible support when we were living farther away. When Susan had a health scare in 2019 while we were still in South Dakota, our son arrived all the way from Washington the same day. The next morning I woke up to one of my sisters and one of Susan’s sisters who took over laundry, shopping, and cooking at our house. Our daughter flew in with her infant son from Japan for a supportive visit. We were never left alone until Susan was well into her recovery. Despite the realtor’s mantra of “location, location, location,” we know that when it comes to navigating the tough times of life the real blessing is “relationship, relationship, relationship.”

Yesterday we were invited to tell a bit of our story to one of the fellowship groups that meets at our church. We recounted our career path through college, graduate school, three parishes in three different states, retirement and our return to working in the church. We told the general stories of our children’s lives, families and careers. We talked about the work we are now doing with the educational and faith formation ministries of the church. There were a few questions and a few supportive comments. There were lots of smiles and happy conversations. There were excellent home made scones and piping hot tea. As they say, “a good time was had by all.”

As I slipped into my bed in the evening, I reflected on how genuinely happy I am. It is easy for me to county my blessings. If you count wealth by the number of possessions, the size of a stock portfolio, the value of real estate holdings, or the savings tucked away, I am not a wealthy man. But if you count the blessings of family, friends, health, meaningful work, and good memories, my riches abound. Alongside Lou Gehrig, “I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

And, when you think of it, I’m even luckier than he was when he made that famous speech. This journal entry is far from my farewell speech. I’m not putting the cap on the end of my career. I’m not saying good bye to my friends and supporters. I bet I have a few more impromptu fairs left in my future. I know I have a few more precious minutes of rocking a baby and cooking barbecue for hungry children and playing silly games with giggling kids. From where I sit the future looks bright.

It was sunny yesterday afternoon as we walked down to the beach - a stark contrast with the last few days of walking in driving rain and lots of wind. The clouds had parted and the islands were in clear view. The seagulls were flocking and the ducks were finding plenty to attract them to the shallow waters of the bay. The beach was littered with new shells washed up by recent tides. The sun was warm on my face.

Sometimes making a poor financial decision can be the best choice to make. It isn’t the first time I made a decision that others considered to be unwise.