Autumn

Autumn

Friday, March 30, 2012

Bits & Pieces

Isn't it weird how fast time flies when you're locked away at home. I've found myself walking back and forth between small chores I've ignored for months. I clean cluttered cabinets and drawers, sort through back issues of magazines and then find myself on the back deck where I sweep away the catkins and leaves that fall like rain at this time of year.

Afterwards, a chair speaks to me and I sit and watch, and breath, and smell, and listen. Squirrels tease me as they use my privacy fence as a boardwalk. They know full well it's their breeding season and I shall not shoot. Over the river an Osprey circles and drops for a fish and uses one of our two tall pines to land and eat his catch. It's warm out. The sun feels good.



Back inside I finally take the time to change the dead batteries of my handgun vault. They've been dead for two months and I was reduced to the use of my key. The batteries are a royal pain to change. It requires me to first unload the contents. Then take the vault and flip it upside down and pull back the foam lining and remove the battery tray. Simple. It took me almost an hour. Most of the hour was taken with finding my instruction booklet. I found it atop my bedroom gun safe...if it had been a snake....
Then, reprogram the keypad. Almost chunked it through the French doors. I told myself to have patience. It works, now.


I took a slow walk up our street this afternoon. I have this funny or quirky habit of noting all the citrus and other fruit trees in my neighborhood. Never know when this bit of intelligence will come in handy. I take note of other items too, but that's neither here nor there...anyhow, most of my neighbors fruit falls and rots. It kinda ticks me off. I know of a certain fellow that would put it to good use. Many times I come close to walking up and tapping gently on their doors to seek permission to take away their fallen fruits. One day perhaps. Think of all the poor Canadians that suffer for the lack of vitamin 'C.'



My son and daughter-in-law came over last evening with our grandchildren.

Little Bit eased her way into the family room, and without a word, slowly walked over and gently climbed into my lap and placed her head on my shoulder. I didn't say a word, just reached down and placed a kiss on her hair. She shuffled, tucked her arms under mine and cried.

It was a silent soothing display of tears. I held her and continued to place kisses. Not shamed to admit she had me in tears too. Then the others walked in and it seemed awkward for me. I tried to hide my face, man stuff you know. It didn't work. Nana just had to ask what was wrong. Little Bit just shook her head and dug in deeper. They left us alone, finally.

I said, "Honey, it's okay."

She shuffled again, then raised her face to mine and I wiped her runny nose and tried to dry her tears. Then, "Papa, why do you want to go to Heaven?" I waited a few seconds, gathering my thoughts.

"Sweetheart, Papa isn't going to Heaven. I plan to stay here as long as I can, I promise. I want to walk you down the isle some day. I know you don't know what I mean, but it's important to me."

"You promised me last time you wouldn't go to Heaven but you broke your promise and went back to the hospital and Daddy and Mom said you might go to Heaven and they took me to your room and you were sick again. You promised, Papa."

About then I wanted to say a few words to my son. "Honey, Papa can't control when and where and how I get sick. It just happens. I promised I would not go to Heaven, and I didn't, did I?'

"No. But you tried."

"Honey, Papa didn't try. Really, I didn't. I just became sick. I'm back now and I'm holding you and next Monday Papa promises to drive you to school, no matter what anyone says, I'll be there."

"Really?"

"Yes. And, I'll see you again tomorrow night. Do we have a deal?"

She smiled.

 I always keep my promises.

Stephen

33 comments:

  1. I'm just blown away by her nearly-adult intellect pushing its way through the childhood emotions. What a gift from God!

    If it helps, re: the hospitalization, just tell her it's like a repair shop for cars - you go there to get better, to fix whatever's wrong. The point is to keep on running, after all.

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  2. Not a bad idea, repair shop...now why didn't I think about that...yes, she's bright. In first grade and reads at third grade level...of course her Nana is a Mensa member. Guess it rubbed off on her. Thanks, my good friend.

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  3. I am waiting on ya to spin a yarn about how "the pimp" comes to visit, climbs in the chair.........

    (no disrespect intended)

    You are so blessed. I do not get to see my grand kids as much as you do. You got a good girl there....many times reading these accounts near brings me to tears.

    Hurry up and get back to a hunnert per cent....

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    1. My friend, I'll try and write about The Pimp soon. He's certainly a open book. Yes, I'm blessed with a couple of fine grandchildren. Sport Model is just now speaking a few words. I'm working hard on my recovery. I understand it's rare for a person to leave the hospital on the second day after a heart attack...guess I'm ahead of the game.

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    2. I will write about The Pimp soon...yes, I'm blessed with a couple of fine grandchildren...love 'em much. I work hard on my recovery...can't sit and wait. Thank you, my friend.

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  4. i was already in tears reading this and then Rev. Paul and Warlock's comments got me even more teary - ugh! thanks for thinking of vitamin c-less canadians when you see fallen fruit! your Little Bit is just a touch too intelligent and sees and feels things that adults would have a hard time putting in to words. just keep reassuring her. she is scared and worried - she has every right to be after the last few months. she trusts you implicitly - a very hard thing to live up to, Papa. but you have to. LIVE up to her implicit trust. if that feels heavy - it's because it is. you have to LIVE up to it. re-read that several times until you fully understand. try and keep a low profile for the next several months, follow your doctors orders, don't overdo it - you have to LIVE up to her implicit trust. i am not trying to beat a horse to death...i just want you to really consider it from her point of view. if she is your life - you have to be there to walk her down the aisle!

    all of our love to you, our dear sweet friend, always.
    kymber and jambaloney

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    1. Touching, kymber, very touching and I'll take your advice...I do plan on sticking around, trust me. Thank you so very much...

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  5. It looks like you have some pretty good medicine there.

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    1. Yes, indeed. She is my heart and life. Thanks, my friend.

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  6. Stephen,
    My daughter and her family left thirty minutes ago, moving out, moving home, after nine weeks with us. The house is so quiet, so still. I miss Natalie and Little Man so much. Already. I was in tears so I picked up the laptop and first site visited was yours. The more I read, the more the tears flowed. When grandparents have the relationships that you and I have with our little ones, we have a responsibility to keep our promises, to be there as long as possible. I tell Natalie I want to live to not only see her children, but to know them. She's four. I'm 55. There is my motivating reason. Listen to Kymber, listen to your friends, listen to your doctors. So that you will be there to listen to Little Bit. She is your motivating force. Don't let her down. She needs you and needs to trust your promises. Praying for your recovery and for her precious heart.
    Mammaw B

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    1. oh Mammaw...you are so wise. it is because of what you have lived through. i wish that you weren't so wise. but how would us younger ones ever learn if we didn't have our elders to learn from? i wish that you weren't so wise Mammaw...but i am glad that you are. i have learned so much. and have so much more to learn. if you are willing to teach. thank you for everything so far. your heart is so large i am afraid i will get lost in it. thank you.

      your friend,
      kymber

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    2. It is awful when they leave, isn't it...please rest assured, my dear lady, you've much support out here. Please be at peace, rest. You'll see them again..in time. God bless you.

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  7. We really need to stop cutting onions around here, makes it hard to read. Normal has returned in your life.

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    1. Sorry, Rob. Believe it or not I really don't set out to make people cry. I just write from my heart, my feelings. Thank you.

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  8. And now I cry!....what a precious little girl! Several of us are blessed to have our grandchildren close by. My boys are just a bit older, 13 and 11, but so precious. No longer lap-sitters, but huge huggers and I take advantage of that!!
    Stephen, do take care and do what you are supposed to, but know that God watches over you and Little Bit. Many prayers for a full recovery are sent your way.

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    1. Thank you, dear lady, I shall mind my manners and do what the doctors tell me...within limits. God bless.

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  9. Phyllis (N/W Jersey)March 30, 2012 at 8:49 PM

    Take care of yourself, Stephen. That little girl really is a gift from God. Treasure her. Her love for you is so special. Thank you for sharing those personal, lovely moments with us. We are honored.

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    1. I shall, Dear Phyllis, I shall. Yes, she is a gift from God. I remind my son and daughter-in-law of this often...and you are most welcome. I share these vignettes with all as a by product for her. This is my way of keeping my spirit alive for her when my soul is but a shadow on this earth. I hope the record stands long enough for her to read and understand.

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  10. What a touching story Stephen. Thank you for sharing that with us and you better keep your promise is all I can say or you will get another earfull :)

    Glad to hear you are up and about your made of stern stuff sir.

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    1. Thanks, my friend. You're welcome. Stern stuff, maybe...we'll see.

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  11. Oh that is such a sweet, tender loving story. I am glad you have her and she has you. I am glad you are with us and are doing better! Hugs to you all!

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    1. And hugs right back at 'ya, Pretty Girl...my pleasure.

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  12. When I lived in San Bernardino many years ago there were still many orange groves near our new development. But overhamging a right of way was the biggest lemon tree I have ever seen, perhaps 75-100 feet tall and juge branches full of lemons. So one day I took a big shopping bag and filled it while standing on the sidewalk. I love fresh made lemon juice. Interestingly there were so many lemons on the tree you couldn't even tell I took a couple hundred from it.

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    1. I once upon a time lived near San Bernardino..nice place. Too many people, but nice. We take our bounty when offered...thank you very much for your nice comment.

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  13. Everything I could say has already been said above. Just take care, my friend.

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    1. You too, my good friend. Have a great day.

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  14. That's a tough conversation to have. She needs her Papa.

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    1. She has me...thanks, my friend.

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    2. It was indeed. She has me. Thanks, my friend.

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  15. Take care of yourself. You have a promise to keep.

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    1. Larry, if at all possible, I shall keep it...thank you, my friend.

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  16. Keeping your promises are sometimes hard. I know you can do this. Your love for her outshines all. Praying for you and your loved ones, you are In My Prayers!

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    1. I work very hard at keeping my word, Sweet Girl..always have and always will. Thanks for the prayers, I need them. Bless you.

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