Priceless

 

Silas walked through the kitchen humming one of his favorite songs.  Dragging his hand along the refrigerator, he looked out the window and pointed.  “Leaf,” he said. 

 

Turning to the window, his grandpa Duane said, “Yes, leaf.  Many leaves.”  He stressed each word so the lad could hear the difference,  Then Silas spied his rake.  Immediately, he repeated, “Rake, rake, outside, outside, outside.”  Grandpa said, “You have to wait a minute.  You need your shoes.”

 

“Shoes, shoes, boots, boots.” 

 

“Yes, yes, come here little boy.”

 

Silas grabbed his boots and held them up to Duane as he stepped closer.  One of the boots slipped from Silas’s grasp and he said, “Oops!  Mess, mess.”  

 

Grandpa Duane smiled.  The boy was becoming quite the chatterbox.  He loved saying words he knew and being outside with his grandpa.  With his boots on, Silas reached for the doorknob but couldn’t turn it let alone fully reach it.  When Duane stretched out his hand to the door, Silas retrieved his and, excitement building, moved back to allow the swinging door to open. 

 

Silas stepped to the threshold and reached for his grandpa’s hand.  He repeated, “Hand. Hand.”  Once the little fingers wrapped around his grandfather’s pinkie, Silas stepped outside.  With both feet firmly on the ground, Silas started toward his rake.  Again, he hummed a melody as he walked.  He was in nature and he soaked it in.  Hearing a distant noise, Silas stopped and looked in that direction.  It was the garbage truck somewhere in the neighborhood.  

 

The little boy turned to Duane, pointed in the direction of the truck, and said, “Truck, truck.  Big truck.” 

 

“Yes, big truck, isn’t it?”  

 

Whenever the garbage men came to empty the trash cans, Silas wanted to watch.  Any time he saw a truck or bus, Silas was in awe.  Duane watched as Silas listened.  He expected Silas to request going out of the back yard to watch the trucks.  Instead, the boy moved again to his rake.  It was a plastic toy rake.  He held the long pole in the center.  When he raked the leaves and pine straw, Silas made short choppy motions.  He favorite way to rake was to dismantle the piles his grandfather already made.  

 

Duane wordlessly stood watching Silas scatter leaves, pine cones, and pine straw from one of his piles.  Yes, he would have to rake it again.  Still, watching his grandson’s joy was priceless. 

Shorties 79

 Silas

The boy was warm and taking deep breaths.  Two year old Silas had been lying on his grandfather for 45 minutes.  Duane considered the weight of the child.  His wife would say she felt squished whenever he was on her.  She also joked she got her weight training carrying him.  Though he could walk, they loved to spoil him.  When he was sick, like today, Silas’s grandparents did all possible to ease his pain. 

 

Duane could feel the drool soaking his shirt.  Due to congestion, Silas was breathing through his mouth.  He had grown so much in two short years.  Duane marveled at Silas’s sense of humor despite him not laughing very often.  He preferred to make the humor rather than enjoy it.  Duane chuckled at the thought of something Silas likes to do.  The shaking of his body caused Silas to start.  Then he relaxed and his breathing resumed.

 

Silas has a knack for throwing things accurately.  His father, an athlete, is overjoyed by this.  One day, with his toy basketball set, Silas made three baskets in a row when standing two feet away.  All who witnessed this were quite excited and praised Silas for his accuracy.  Then he missed several shots in a row and after each, Duane said, “You missed.”

 

With his beloved childlike innocence, he got excited about this too.  After each miss he exclaimed, “I missed.”  Each time this caused a great outroar of laughter.   He continues to do this to his great personal delight.  With a heart warmed by love,  Duane hugged Silas and tenderly kissed his head.  Duane mused how snuggling with babies on his chest is one of the best gifts on God’s green earth. 

 

“Papa?” Silas whispered.

 

Softly, Duane replied, “Silas?”

 

Silas made no further reply and Duane wondered if the lad was asleep again.  Then Silas pushed up and sat on Duane’s stomach.  Looking down at his grandfather, Silas stared absently for a moment.  Silently, he started looking around the room.  Silas began gesturing to items in the rooms and calling out their names.  ‘Lock, (clock), pillow, blanky, hand, head, ear, mouth, etc.  Then he gestured to the ceiling fan.  As always, he thrust out his hand, like he could cause changes in the natural order of things, and commanded, “Stop!”

 

Duane smiled.  Silas smiled.  All was right in the world. 

Shorties: 78

 

The air was frigid but inmate hearts were colder.  Another trainload began expelling a bewildered and terrified cargo while Sarah dragged bodies from the shower by the arms and across the ground.  Being ordered by a guard, Naomi approached and bent down to the feet of the corpse Sarah dragged.  She recognized this dead woman who was new to the camp.  It still had muscle and fat on the body. 

 

Beyond weary, Naomi took a deep breath and the two woman lifted and tossed the body onto a pile of death.  Except one of the feet slipped for Naomi’s grasp.  The torso landed on the corner of the pile and tumbled awkwardly to the ground.  Landing face down, a hollow thud resounded when the forehead slammed against the concrete. 

 

Sarah cursed inwardly as she heard one of the guards approaching and screaming insults.  Because they didn’t get the body onto the pile, there would be one additional exertion to their bankrupt energies.  Again, they bent down and took hold of the extremities.  This time they paused an extra beat to ensure firm holds and muster an additional ounce of strength.  Then, ignoring the shouts of the guards, both women lifted and swung in unison and the body flew with a perfect arc onto the top of the pile.  Another one down.  Still an infinite number to go.  It would never end.  The supply was continuously replenished.

 

Scanning the train passengers now standing in front of the vacant boxcars, The Nazis always chose the strongest for work details.  The weakest adults and youngest children were doomed.  Sarah noted a large number of children.  She was happy to know there would be lighter loads in the near future when she cleared the showers of bodies after they were gassed. 

 

Screams drew Sarah’s eyes to a woman being dragged to one side by two guards.  She struggled against them as two youngsters, screaming in fear, toddled toward their mother.  One child lost its balance and bent at the waist to catch himself.  The other continued to mommy.  A guard grabbed that child’s hand and pulled it away.  Fully righted and balanced, the first continued on.  Both needed their mother’s comfort in this obscene cesspool.  A booming crack split the air and he slammed to the ground dead.  

 

The gunshot from an officer’s pistol momentarily froze the all who witnessed the scene.  Enraged, the mother wrenched free from the hands encircling her.  She ran five steps toward the her lifeless first born when a rifle butt split her bottom lip and broke three teeth.  She fell into a heap in the dirt.  The guards allowed two women to help her to her feet and back to her designated section. 

 

Sarah saw it all with weary uncaring eyes.  Eleven months of this hell stole the heart from her chest and cast it into the deepest sea.  The body was alive but her spirit was a corpse.  This was the day Sarah realized her heart and soul were dead. 

The School of Life

 

My grandson is inching toward two years of age.  He is a sweet little boy who is quite talkative and has an amazing sense of humor.  His effervescent demeanor charms all who come in contact with him.  I also see a soft heart and gentle spirit in him.  The little boy warms my heart.

 

Recently, he started going to a day care 2 days per weeks.  On his first day of “school,” his mom, grandma, and I brought him there.  We took photos and he met his teacher.  It is hit me hard when I saw his face the moment he realized we were leaving him there.  I fought back tears as his spilled onto his cheeks.  In that moment, I wished life didn’t have to be like that.  Why should we have to separate, even for a short time, from our little boy?  I hurt for him.  I started to feel an existential question bubble up in my heart: Why must he/we do things we don’t want to do?  

 

We were able to watch him through a two way mirror and his fear eased as he clutched his blanket.  When we returned three hours later, he sat on the floor in the middle of the room looking through a book.  He loves books.  There were 2 children crying in the room but, with blanket in hand, he was lost in his book.  We called to him but he couldn’t hear us.  Finally, he turned, recognized us, and got up.  His eyes looked weary.  He normally would have had a nap but missed it. 

 

Driving home, I pondered my earlier thoughts about humans experiencing heartache.  On a primal level, I wish no one has to suffer the pain of separation or loss.  Unfortunately, life will never allow it.  We cannot be everywhere and everything to everyone.   As much as it hurts, we must experience disappointment, loss, and pain.  While it might sound like heaven, a life without negatives would be more hellish. 

 

Have you ever known someone who has lived life mostly alone and able to do as they wish?  Are they not eccentric?  I have family members who do not want to have children because kids will ruin their ability to travel.  I know their parents traveled with them when they were young so it can be done.  I’ll just get to the point.  When left to do as they please, people become spoiled.  Spoiled children are a nuisance.  Spoiled adults are boorish at best.  Who wants to deal with spoiled children or adults?

 

As I consider these situations, I find myself more grateful for the trials of life.  I haven’t always enjoyed them but I’ve grown and gained strength due to the fires. Iron sharpens iron and I know I’ve had people in my life who have challenged me.  By this, I mean their temperament was contrary to mine and I had to adjust.  I don’t like it but the callouses have fortified my soft heart and I have a greater appreciation for beautiful moments of my earthly existence. 

 

I’ve heard it said before we appreciate light because of darkness.  Because of life’s challenges, we can embrace pain, loss, heartache, abandonment and other privations of life.  Perhaps we can’t while in the moment.  I am very acquainted with the darker times of life.  Still, when your heart heals, (please seek help if this isn’t happening for you) your life can be so much more that it was before. 

Quest

 

Echoes in the halls
A promised land calls
Can you find the clout?
Or even know the rout?

Going from either to or
Always knocking the door
Release all your might
You will gain the sight

DWP

(c) May 2022

Grandma's House

It's funny how memories pop up.  

My dad's parents lived in Marquette, Michigan when I was very young.  For some reason, some memories of that place came to mind.  I'm just going to jot some of them down.  

The front door had a storm door that opened the opposite way from the main door.  That is, the storm door swung to the left but the house door to the right.  The storm door also had a device that would either hold it open or allowed it to slowly close.  I once got the pinky finger on my right hand caught in the door when it closed.  Looking back at that moment, I'm surprised it didn't break my finger.  

Since we lived in central Illinois, we didn't see my grandparents but once or twice each year.  Normally, we drove there in July.  There was one time we went and my grandparents had some sparklers.  My siblings and I ran around in the back yard one night, swinging our arms around to watch the light and colors of the sparklers.  I then tripped on the anchor used to hold the leash for the dog, Lady, so she couldn't leave the yard.  When I fell, my face fell onto the sparkler and burned my face on the right side near my lips.  

On a happier note, I remember once sleeping with my grandparents.  When I awoke in the morning, I remember grandma picking me up and setting me onto the floor.  As she turned, rolling on the bed, I reached out and grabbed her hair.  I still don't know why I did that.  

Just off the kitchen and, I think, in front of the back door, there was a chalk board.  Once, my sister and I drew pictures on it.  They were silly pictures.  She drew stick figures of me with either a huge body and tiny head or vice versa.  

I find it interesting that when I focus on memories and places like I am now, I remember more and more things.  I like these strolls down memory lane.  

A Man After God’s Own Heart

I met Alejandro while on a mission trip to the Talamanca region of Costa Rica about 8 years ago.  He was a young man who left the comforts of home, like the rest of us, to give gifts to underprivileged children in the jungle.  It was a long, exhausting trip that brought us to various groups of people.  It was equal parts joy and heartache to see the need but also the smiles of those receiving their gifts.  It was fun going down a river that bordered Panama in a dugout canoe type of boat. 

Alejandro and I sat in the back of the bus during our return to San Jose.  I was impressed by this young man.  He was still in high school but he WANTED to serve.  We have stayed in touch over the years.  He is now married and has a one year old daughter.  We joke she will marry my grandson. 

Today, Alejandro and his family are missionaries in Romania.  Today he and to other men he works with went to the Ukrainian border with some basic supplies and to see how they can help.  He told me what he saw broke his heart.  There is so much need.  I hope to share more soon about what they need and how we can help. 

#ukraine

Sick, Time Travel, Grandson

While I feel better than a few days ago, I feel I could sleep all day and all night.  Also, I just want to be warm.  Actually, I want to sweat.  Just to be hot and sweaty.  While I think I still can muster the strength for that, THAT isn’t what I mean.

I’ve noticed I crave salty foods.  Maybe it is some sort of electrolyte thing.  Hard to say.  I did get some Gatorade and Pedialyte.  I think I want some more. 

Sometimes when I am in bed I have moments like I’m lucid dreaming.  Actually, I had an episode a couple weeks ago where I dreamed about time travel.  (That has happened before and I even wrote a story based on what I saw in the dream.)  In this case, I my dream dealt with the fact that whenever we consider time travel, mind, body, and spirit must travel together.  What if we could leave the body behind?  That eliminates many obstacles to time travel. 

My grandson also has covid.  Poor little guy.  He just wants to be held.  I put him down yesterday and he slept in his bed for a while but awoke crying.  I went and picked him up and laid him on my chest for a while.  I could tell he was getting feverish.  Everyone once in a while, he would say something or make a noise.  I couldn’t see his eyes but I think they were open the whole time.  He is such a sweet little boy. 

He still makes more noises than actual words but his vocabulary is expanding and his understanding of the world grows each day.  For a couple months now, I would say his name (Silas) and mine (grandpa).  When doing this I would place my hand on his chest when saying his name and on my chest when saying mine.  Occasionally, I would point to our noses or some other part.  Also, I would use his hand to do the pointing.  Recently, when saying his name, he puts his hand on his chest.  I pray we recover soon.

Covid: Well, this is new

 If this post makes little to no sense, I sincerely apologize.  My head is quite foggy and my body feel charged.  It almost feels tingly.  I'm not sure why though.

Two days ago I finally joined the club.  That is, I tested positive for Covid.  Hurray for me!  I had been joking for a while now that my wife and I must be immune.  Alas, we have it.  Compared to some, I guess my symptoms are mild.  I've felt worse and worked but have stayed home. I feel bad my grandson must have gotten sick from us since we watch him during the week.  

Whenever I get sick it seems post-nasal drip is the first thing I experience.  The same was true with this.  After a couple days of that, I got tight neck muscles.  Along with that was very tense scalp muscles.  The top of my head literally hurt to touch.  Mind you, I didn't cry out in pain when I did touch my head but the sensation was painful.  

There was one day that I just wanted to sleep.  I did nap during the day and slept through the night.  I think the extra time in bed simply added to the muscle tension.  I took the baby for a couple laps around the neighborhood and they seemed to loosen my muscles.  I felt better but I could still feel something wasn't right.  

We spent time outdoors since the weather was mild and day was sunny.  We even took the baby outside to sit in the grass for the first time.  He enjoyed it immensely.  

With the extra time to ourselves, we have cooked and eaten soups, drank copious cups of tea, taken hot showers and epsom salt baths, and various other things to alleviate our symptoms.  As I sit here typing, I feel a mild pressure in the sinus directly behind my nose even though my head has been clear.  By that I mean my sinuses are clear.  As I said before, my brain isn't clear.  

Sometimes I can't think of words.  Sometimes I start to do something only to think I should do something else.  I had gone 2 days without coffee.  I sometimes take off a day just to do it.  Two off days wasn't major.  Most disappointingly, coffee hasn't tasted good.  Everything else is fine.  

So this is the novel coronavirus.  This is new

for me