BY RICHARD MORGAN

Recently I read a book by a local author, P.J. Grondin. The book is called Under the Blood Tree. And while this column isn’t about the book, it was really good. It’s a story of five kids who are bonded together by a deed and how this affects them 15 years later. If you’re looking for something to read, I recommend this one completely.

But that’s not what this is about. What is it about? Well, somewhere in the middle of the book, one of the characters was talking about the times these 12-year-old kids used to be best friends. And he said that they were “the best times of my life.”

Which got me thinking. What are, or were, the best times of my life? Can I say that? Can you? Can anyone? I’m pretty sure that, if I live long enough, I may be able to look back at a time and call that time “the best times of my life.” But I don’t know that.

I’m also pretty sure, however, that the answer is not obvious. And we can’t choose those times for other people. For instance, I saw an article about “Timmy” from Lassie. Professionally, those years when he was in that TV series were definitely his best. But personally? I have no idea. For instance, I read that the person who played Charlie in Willy Wonka (the Gene Wilder version) never acted again. He just didn’t want to. Instead, he became a veterinarian, and by all accounts, is happy with his choice. From the outside, we might look at him and say that the Wonka days must have been the best of his life. But he says no. And who are we to judge?

Of course, my childhood days were great. They were so good, I even wrote a book about them! We played all day (in the summer anyway) and seemingly didn’t have a care in the world. But that’s looking back. At the time, we all wanted to have more freedom, to be older, to stay up later, etc. We probably didn’t think of those as great times. But, who remembers?

The times when my kids were small were really good years. But unfortunately, like many parents, I was just too busy to enjoy them. When my kids were really little, I couldn’t wait till they were older. So we don’t have to change any more diapers, we don’t need to find sitters, etc. (Yes, I know that was a stupid attitude.) But of course, now that they’re grown, I look back and realize how good those times were, and I miss them. Even though I may have kinda wished those times away. Sadly.

Professionally of course, my years as a teacher and coach were great. I think I was a good teacher. (Although every teacher thinks that, so I don’t really know.) But I KNOW I was a good coach. Most of my teams were pretty successful, and my athletes really seemed to enjoy the times. But that’s my professional life. Were those the “best”?

And it’s 100% possible that these days, right now, are the “best days of my life.” While I’m much older and physically not what I used to be, I do enjoy the freedom that my semi-retirement gives me. So there’s that.

The point is that I just don’t know. And I also realize it’s not really important. Whether tomorrow will be “the best” or not, doesn’t really matter. As long as I enjoy my life, no matter where, when, or who with, that’s the important thing.

Still, I can’t help but wonder. When I’m on my deathbed, will there be a time that I look back on and say that “Yeah, those were the best times of my life.”
I just don’t know.