“The Only Place To Be” – Gord Downie
“October is finite – not only in volume, but in reoccurrence.” – Greg Mcreynolds
He checks the caller ID. Its work. He thinks about not answering it but does.
“Hello. Its Darren. You got time to chat, I’d like to talk to you about something quickly?”
“Just wondering if you’d be interested in spending some time in Spokane for that week long conference we talked about?’
“Yeah. You bet. Did they finalize a date on it?”
“Yes they did. Its in October.”
“You’d fly out on the 9th and be back the 17th”
“Yeah, sorry. I, uh . . . can’t go.”
“How come? As you know this is pretty important to us.”
“Well, my dogs getting old . . . and I . . . thats prime bird hunting season . . . and I just can’t spare any October days . . . I don’t know how many more years she has y’know. Sorry. I truly appreciate the opportunity and all . . . but . . . yeah, I just can’t”
“Well we will certainly be disappointed”
“Ok. Well we’ll see you at work Monday then.”
“Yeah. You bet. Thanks.”
He wasn’t thinking about that conversation back in August as he walked back to the truck with a full game bag. He wasn’t thinking about how he hadn’t helped his chances for possible career advancement. He wasn’t wondering if he hadn’t really taken enough time to fully consider the situation. He didn’t think about letting down co-workers or family. He wasn’t filled with anxiety about having his priorities skewed.
He only thought of the the old dog out in front of him, and about how much he’d rather be here, out in the woods in October with her, as opposed to anywhere else, for as long as he could.