I Tried My Best

It took him a good ten minutes to exit his car and walk the five or six feet to the shop's front door. He'd left his walker in the car. Pride. I've seen it a hundred times over the last thirty-one years of business.

The old man is bent, gray and likes battered fedora hats and blue shirts and smells like pipe tobacco, kinda brambly. He's tanned and wears a weary face full of creases and smile lines. His sharp blue eyes hold a minefield of trapped intelligence. I like and respect him. The old man's name is Lem.

I had the air set at meat locker and the smell of coffee was rich and thick when he finally achieved entrance. "Hey, Stephen."

"Morning, Lem. What's up?" He propped on his cane and pointed at one of the chairs and I came around and we both sat. I asked if he'd like a cup and when he was settled comfortably and had exchanged recent family news he went into silent mode. I went about my business and waited.

After a few minutes I stepped back into my office and jerked another cup of coffee. I heard, "Stephen."

"Yes, Sir."

Back on the floor I took a seat. "Ah, listen. I've got this old shotgun that belonged to my father. It isn't much. Just an old sixteen gauge and I haven't shot it in years cause the firing pin is broke. I think."

"No big deal, Lem. If we can't find a replacement I'm sure a nail would work." He smiled.

As we chatted about his fathers shotgun I noticed his eyes well and tears slowly slide down his face. He'd turned his head aside but tears are very hard to hide. I switched gears, "I bet you've run many different firearms in your life."

"Yeah, a few."

"What was your favorite?"

His attention had turned to the street scene. I waited as we listened to the traffic, the background music, and our hearts. I took in his old weather beaten hands with their liver spots and the rough worn cuff of his blue shirt. I noticed he hadn't worn his sweater vest - a standard with Lem. He'd complained about my air's temperature so often I'd lost count.

Finally, "Oh, I guess my favorite was the twenty millimeter cannon. I fired many a round at those Jap planes."

"Hit many?"

He turned and locked his blue eyes on me and said, "I tried my best."

He then reached and gave me his empty cup and asked for a refill. When I returned his face was soaked in tears.

"Lem, what's wrong?"

"I had to put her in the nursing home. I had to." I sat my cup on the table and placed my arm around his shoulders, and waited.

Then, "I just can't handle her anymore, Stephen. I'm just too old and her Alzheimers has progressed beyond my capabilities. It shames me. I'm a failure."

I explained how much I disagreed with his self assessment and how I felt he'd tried his best under very difficult circumstances. He removed his checkered bandana and wiped his face and then turned back to me and said, "I tried my best."

Then, I understood.

We talked for another hour or so. Just before he stepped outside I hugged him close. Like I said, I like Lem. He's a national treasure and hero, in the best sense of the word.

I whispered in his ear, "You did try your best."

I received a pat on the back. 

Stephen   

They're Fired

A few weeks ago I was backed into the 'ole proverbial corner which resulted in our hiring a professional yard service.  Wife said I needed to slow down, didn't have the time, was too old (really?) and needed help. I reluctantly agreed.

We hired a young couple. I walked them around our home and described exactly how I 'liked' things done. Trim here. Cut this down to there. Edge this way and please don't do this - you get the drift.

One of my pet peeves is the height of my St. Augustine grass. I like it cut high. Otherwise it suffers and the roots dry far too quickly.

Their first day on the job, they scalped my lawn.  They failed to trim the hedges. Didn't edge properly, left leaves and debris. They screwed the pooch with me. 

They're fired.

Sweet Wife has given me instructions....I'm not to work in our yard without adult supervision. So, as she sits in church services with her mother I shall dress in my grubbiest and hit the yard. I've work to do.

Time to sweat.

Stephen

Bah, Humbug

Today, as you all are very aware, is the first day of summer.  Ah, yes. Watermelons, Independence Day, back yard cookouts, iced tea, and beautiful ladies in their bikinis - what's not to love.

Well, in fact, summer. I hate it. Bah, humbug. Tell me of its wonder as the season rolls into August when I can step from my cooled home into our garage and within fifteen seconds you've been turned into a puddle of sweat and your very breath could light a fire.

Okay, the girls in bikinis and the fireworks aren't so bad. You can keep the rest....

Stephen

Hey, Wanna Deal?

He's a player, always with a notebook in hand. He moves merchandise; jewelry, gold and silver bullion, firearms. You name it he'll find the stash and pass it along at whatever profit the market will bear.

I call him Grease Bear...short, hirsute and oily, forever trailing the scent of garlic. Grease Bear walks in this morning and begins with, "Hey, wanna deal?"

"What 'ya got."

He scratches his nose, flips his pad. "I got eight thousand five hundred rounds of .22. Can you move it for me?"

"How much?"

"It's a deal man. Only $1,400.00."

I held back the laughter.

"What. You think my price is too high...maybe..."

I cut him short, "Look man. I'm sorry but there's no way in hell I can move twenty-two's at that price. If anything I encourage everyone to wait and allow the market to settle. Supply and demand will correct these silly prices."

Him, "Okay. Sure man. How about some nine's?"

He gave me his price. Again, I held back the laughter.

Stephen
  

Father's Day

To your father, and mine.

Happy Father's Day.

I love you, Dad.

Stephen

Little Bit & Pieces

A few days ago, "Honey, next Saturday I'm driving north and will bring my mother here. She plans to stay for a week."

"Really....ah, okay."

Just like that...

When she arrived I stood and gave the 'ole reach out my hand routine. She gently slapped it aside and instead gave me a hug.

Shucks...felt so loved I had a cup of coffee ready when she came out this morning, dressed in black, ready for church.

She likes to stay in character.

*****

(Late afternoon, June 12th)

When I'd reached the main isle of the market I began the search for the frozen section with my focus on the overhead signs in search for icecream. I found my target and was about to make the turn when this flash of red, low down, caught my attention and I immediately tried to step aside in order to avoid a collision.

Instead, the little girl wrapped her arms around my waste. Total and complete shock. I looked down and realized the tiny girl in the red dress was my Little Bit and behind her was a shopping cart held by her father.

So many thoughts and emotions ripped through my mind and I knew I had but milliseconds to react. I reached down and took her and kissed and hugged and kissed again and tried to soak/absorb as much of her as I could because I knew or thought for certain he'd jerk her away and run.

She hadn't said a word. She just held me tight. After a few seconds she looked up into my face with the most wonderful smile and I again bent and whispered into her ear, "I love you. Nana loves you," and then, "Are you happy?"

She smiled and said, "Yes, Papa. I'm okay." She released me and took a step back and in a happy kind of way said, "Now, Papa, take a picture for Nana."

I reached, in desperation, and took her back into my arms, hugged her again, and took the first photo. For the second picture, she stepped back, and I took a full body shot. Her father remained still, head down, almost as if he were embarrassed.

With Little Bit back in my arms I turned to him and extended my hand. We shook. I asked after his welfare, life, work and he shyly answered. Things weren't good. Money is tight. He'd asked for a raise and was refused. His company (Acura) had even cut vacation pay. His wife, Little Bit's step-mother, refused full time work. Same old story.

I reminded him he needed to visit his mother and expressed her love of him. Only a nod in return.

As we spoke I gave kisses to Little Bit. As the old saying goes, I had eyes only for her. She told me she'd graduated to third grade and I replied of course you did, Honey. Then I turned back to her father, my son, and said, with care, "She's awful thin."

"She eats like a horse. Can't put weight on her." I smiled and said, "Yeah....she is her father's child, after all."

He has rules. His rules exclude sweets, any fats, and starches.

Little Bit, during this brief and unexpected encounter remained fairly reserved. She held me during the entire visit. When I'd ask a question she'd quickly cut her eyes in his direction, but she'd answer, in each instance, all of my questions, in a tiny whisper. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms and walk out, to take her home to her Nana. To protect her and feed her and love her. But, the law is on her father's side. I'm just her grandfather, a void in the legal system, and his wife is the law in their home.

Bitter, aren't I. Such is life.

Twice I asked if he'd please visit his mother and try and restore life back to normal, for all of us. My queries were answered only in nods. Never a vocal affirmative.  

And then, she was gone.

We had all of five minutes.

*****

As you may have noticed I haven't written much of late. There is a reason. First, business has increased, and secondly I have been slowly weaning, ever so carefully, myself off most of my heart medications. The side effects of all these medications are awful. Muscle problems, cramps, lack of sleep, fatigue.  Before the doctors saddled me with all these pills I was a fairly active dude...now, I feel like a piece of, well, crap. Unfortunately there is a price when you begin to drop medication from your daily routine. I understand and will take precautions, but why on earth should a person need two cholesterol drugs when one should suffice.

It'll work out in the long run.

*****

Take care out there.

Stephen

A Little Red Dress

On my way to the ice cream isle I almost collided with a little girl in a red dress. I stepped aside to allow her to pass but the little girl in the red dress instead wrapped her arms around my waste.

I felt love, once again.

We had all of five minutes.

She's so very thin and tiny. And, to me so very beautiful.

When I have composed myself I'll relate the story.

Stephen