On an Early Evening Walk - A Family Walk

A four year old on a scooter 

    ~ wheels with coloured lights 

A one year old in a stroller 

    ~ great grandma at the helm.

Mom and dad holding hands 

    with grandpa at their side

A stop to ride the swings 

    ~ and slide the slide

Clear sky, no wind, setting sun 

    ~ walkin’ off a delicious meal and the energy of children.

“Being a family means you are part of something very wonderful. 

It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life.”

~ Lisa Weedn, designer and artist

On an Afternoon Walk - Time Travel

A sweet face not to be missed! 

Even tucked away from the heat. 

Backed by another favourite, 

beautiful orange snap dragons ~

Grandma and Grandpa’s garden.

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colours 

are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.”  

~ Elizabeth Lawrence

Weighted

Grandpa and Grandma in front of their house.

Like a woollen shawl on a cool day, the weight of generations warms me.

Delicious memories of maple cookies, fanciful stories, Bible readings and cinnamon scents of sweet peas.

In my child’s mind,

it was a softer, gentler time.

“Their manners are more gentle, kind,

 than of our generation you shall find.”

~ William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Only a Baby's Cry

Grandpa Jason - two years ago

Dad Jonathan - two years ago

A baby’s cry and cuddle

softens rough edges ~

Dad’s forget themselves 

in the love of a child 

even if only for a moment ~

being a strong adult melts into joy.

                                                                                                                         

Great great grandad Marshal

“What you teach your children, 

   you also teach their children.

            ~ Unknown

                               

Chapter One, Episode 59 - The Rest of the Story and A Bit More - Situationally Theirs

July 04, 2020

Review, Edit and Update
Once more, I've written more setting along with the dialogue, watching for any altering of the details of setting and location. For example, Samuel's squatting position when accepting his glass of tea.

The Rest of the Story and A Bit More

“Hey Samuel, you’re workin’ pretty hard at keeping the weeds down.” Matt stood at the end of the long garden. Straight rows of black earth, new growth peeking through, soaked up the sun. Samuel was down on his knees tending to the fragile new plants, weeds dispatched carefully but quickly. “Can’t let’em take hold.”

“Take a break, Samuel. I have a question for you.” Matt spied a dandelion growing happily in the grass outside the garden. He pulled a slim trowel from his back pocket and dug out it out.

“Is that ice tea from Cook?” Samuel heard the tinkle of ice against the metal of Matt's tall travel mug. When he looked up, Matt was holding out Samuel's own drink container fill with tea and ice.

“Yep. And she sent out a couple of sandwiches. Roast beef from last night. 'Just like you asked for' Cook said.” Samuel took possession of his tea from his squatting position on the ground and took a big slurp. Matt slid the lunch basket from his arm and set it on the ground. "Are you sure you can tear yourself away from the garden?"

“Them weeds’ll have to wait. Elizabeth does take care of me.” Samuel sat back on his heels, dusted the loose dirt from his hands and stood up easily. One handed, he pulled the red kerchief out, hands and face wiped as clean as possible. He picked up the basket and set out to the toolshed.

“Dez said there’s lawn chairs around here somewhere. Point me in the direction and I’ll get us set up to eat.”

“In the toolshed, Matt.” Samuel was already eating the thick roast beef sandwich slathered with horseradish, layered with fresh lettuce and red pepper. He didn’t seem to mind the awkwardness of holding his tea with one hand, eating the sandwich with the other, while pointing with his tea hand to the toolshed. Matt ducked into the toolshed and glanced around for the lawn chairs. Finding them easily, he took them outside and set them up. He tipped up a chunk of log lying up against the toolshed so the two men had a table. Samuel set his tea on the table. “That was one good sandwich. You had a question, Matt?”

“You didn’t finish your story yesterday. You never told me why you got a hiding from your gran’pappy. I just couldn’t sleep all night because of that.”  Matt laughed.

“Well, I missed the most important part of the story. You done your lunch?”

“Last bite, Samuel. You going to tell me more?”

“Come on, Matt.”

“Where are we going?” Matt licked the good roast beef from his fingers as he stood from his chair. His tea gone, all but the ice, he left the glass to sit on the stump beside Samuel’s.

“I can’t finish the story without showing you the most important part. Here we are. Good old tree. You look up there, Matt. See those little scars on that big lead branch. You can barely make out the 'S' and 'A'  I carved in that tree trunk. I was 'bout ready to carve an 'M' when I heard gran’pappy comin’. 

“He called out to me 'Samuel! You get down from that tree. I didn’t give you that little knife for you to go around scarrin’ up Mr. Beaufort’s trees. Don’t you know that tree has to take care of those cuts. It’ll make scars that’ll be there forever.' D'you know he took that knife away from me for what seemed like a whole year. Couldn’t a-been that long. Got it back before the snow. He gave me quite a hiding. Between losin’ my knife and a sore bottom, I never have done anything to a tree 'cept to prune 'em so they can breathe and feel the sun.”

Matt grinned. “Did you ever apologize to the tree?”

“Truth be told, I did. Cryin' like a little baby givin’ the tree a hug and gettin' it all teary wet. Don’t you ever tell nobody about that. Nobody at all. Especially not Elizabeth.”

“Who’s Elizabeth? I’ve met most people around here but no Elizabeth. Samuel, you’re looking a little flushed.”

“Stop that Matt. Elizabeth’s called Cook most of the time. Now I have a question for you? What you doin’ out here today? You told me yesterday you wouldn’t be back here for a week or more.”

“Dez wanted  me to take her into town and show her the equipment that she’ll be having to get. You know. A little tractor, pruning shears, all kinds of things. I could have met her in town, but she was already out here so I just thought I’d drive over and pick her up. It’ll take a while so we’ll probably get something to eat for supper in town.” Matt was rambling. “I’ll take her out and show her what healthy trees look like and my apiary. The bees'll settle when it cools off in the evening.”

Samuel’s blue eyes twinkled. “Well, you just better go on then. I think I see Miss Dez comin’ to the toolshed now. Maybe you want to check in there before you go buyin’ a bunch of stuff. Chairs go back in the toolshed, Matt.........  lookin’ a little flushed yourself, Matt.” Samuel was enjoying himself like he hadn’t for years. “I’ll be gettin’ out of your way. Got to go to town myself.” Samuel stifled a chuckle, patted the old apple tree and walked out of the orchard.

“Not much gets by that old guy.” Matt shook his head, smiling sheepishly. He ran his fingers through his thick curls, patted the old apple tree and whistled his way toward the toolshed.

“There is always the rest of the story, right? 

Even if you don’t know right now what it is.”

~ Sarah Dessen, The Rest of the Story

A Christmas Story with Grandpa

This is a much edited repost. The original, written in 2008, was 'Giggles at Christmas'. In 2014 ~ after some (but not enough) editing it was entitled 'A Christmas Foray.' 

Today I've chosen to do another re-write with several additions, subtractions and a new title: 'A Christmas Story with Grandpa'. Here is:

A Christmas Story with Grandpa

Grandpa would always listen to me, so I decided to tell him about what Sam and I did on Christmas Eve. Sam told me not to, but I was excited and Grandpa was in the big rocking chair by the fireplace, so I didn’t listen to Sam. This is what I told Grandpa.

“When do you think Santa’s coming?”

My brother, Sam, and I were whispering because we weren’t supposed to be awake. And we definitely weren’t supposed to go downstairs. Santa had not even been here yet! We really had tried to go to sleep, each of us in our own rooms across from each other. As soon as our parents closed our doors and went downstairs, we opened our doors so we could call to each other. Going back to bed, eyes closed tight, we both lay stiff and still. Grandpa, we even pretended to snore so it really sounded like we were asleep. Sometimes even pretend snoring would help us to go to sleep, or at least prove to mom and dad that we were asleep. All it did was make us giggle. Our spirits were too excited to even pretend to sleep but we really did try to be quiet. 

“You kids be quiet! Santa can’t come if there are any giggling kids around.” That's what mom and dad both said.

I grabbed a stuffy and cuddled under my covers. My eyes were shut tight again, but the stifled giggling wouldn’t stop. Sam said he didn't do any of that, but I don't believe him. He always keeps his stuffed dog on his pillow.

Then dad called and said “Your mom and I are just going outside to take Butch for his walk. Then we’ll be in the garage for a few minutes. Now, you kids settle down and go to sleep.” 

Butch was our brown and white English bulldog that we had gotten for Christmas two years before this Christmas Eve. As soon as we heard that we would be alone in the house, Sam came into my bedroom. We tiptoed to the stairs and made each other be quiet. I held my breath til I was blue! And my jingle bells on my red Christmas slippers made too much noise. My brother just thought they were dumb. He always went barefoot. So I took my slippers off and went barefoot too. Just as we got to the top of the stairs, we heard the garage door slam shut so we knew mom and dad were inside of the garage.

Sam said “Come on. It’s safe to go downstairs.”

Our bare feet were cold! But there thick carpet at the top of the stairs, and we listened to make sure there was no one in the house yet.

“Sam, aren’t you glad Butch had to go out?”

“Yeah, he’d be making too much noise. He doesn’t know how to be quiet. He'd be running up and down the stairs like crazy!”

My heart was pounding really fast, but we tiptoed down the stairs anyway. Sam said he wasn’t scared. He said he was never scared of anything.

“Oh, look at the lights!  Aren’t they beautiful?”

“You can’t even see them yet!  What are you talking about?”

‘Brothers!’ I thought and then I said “Of course you can’t see them, silly but look at the glowing blue from the lights.”  

Out loud, Sam said “Well then, why didn’t you say that.”

“Shhh. We have to be quiet”

“Why? There’s no one here.”

“If we talk loud we won’t hear if anyone comes in! So just be quiet...”

This talking carried us down the four stairs to the landing and, on the first step after the landing, there was our beautiful Christmas tree. All the lights sparkled on the silver and gold Christmas balls and sparkly tinsel. Dad always had to hang the tinsel in perfect straight lines. The sparkle and glitter under the cloud of angel hair looked like magic. Our very old Christmas Angel, was on top the magical tree.

My brother raced ahead of me. “Wow! Look at all the presents!”  

There was a ton of presents!! Our old brown stockings, the old brown ones that we had to wear to school every day were still flat. No Santa Claus yet. Then we froze. The back door opened and before mom or dad could see, we raced back upstairs, closed the doors to our rooms really quietly. I jumped into bed and looked like I was asleep. Sam said he did that too so I guess he did. By the time our parents came in to check on us we were safe. They let Butch in my room, then closed our doors softly behind them. I heard them whispering!

“So, Grandpa, when they were both whispering, do you know what they might have been whispering about?” 

“Well, they probably just didn’t want to wake you up. You and Sam really fooled them. Your mom and dad thought you were sound asleep. Now, let’s go find Sam and Butch and go for a walk. You can tell me whether Santa Claus brought you anything.”

“The world is shaped by two things ~ 
stories told and the memories they leave behind.”

~ Vera Nazarian, Dreams of the Compass Rose

Homecoming

Homecoming

He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. Quietly crying, poised and well-dressed.

“I was so afraid that you wouldn’t be home. Is mom here? Do you even want me here?”

Her father hadn’t said a word. Just stared at her.

“I’ve made such a mess of my life. Of your lives. And I’m so very, very sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you asked me to leave.”

Manley just stood frozen while this woman cried and talked. He had heard it all before as had Genevieve,  his wife of 40 years. He had cut Cassandra out of his heart a long time ago, but the scar had never really healed. Today, the aching started again. They had not seen or heard from Cassie for several years and believed her dead or dying in some dirty back alley. But there she was….his Cassie-girl. Shivering and cold and crying. Manley felt soft warm hands on his shoulders.

“Manley? Who is it? Cassandra!! Oh my dear sweet daughter, come here to me! Let me get you warm. Manley, it’s ok. You come in here too and stop looking so shocked.”

Cassandra melted, sobbing, into her mother’s arms. Manley slowly stepped back into the front hall, quietly shutting out the cold, his hand lingered on the shiny brass door knob. He felt the need to do something. To get something. Go to the kitchen for some tea? He couldn’t really have seen Cassie. Is she really home?

“Manley, come in here a minute, honey. Cassie has something she wants to tell us.”

“Now, Cassie, your grandparents will be here any moment. Do you want to wait to give them your news? They will be so excited for you. Oh, honey, you’re scared. It’s ok. Maybe it would be easier to tell your dad and I first with just the three of us.”

Cassandra took a deep breath, held on to her mug of tea like it was the only thing keeping her still. She looked in her dad’s eyes. So suspicious, confused and ready to be hurt again. She had planned this day for the last year. Not by herself, but with her new friends, and with her counsellor.

“Well. Oh, this is so hard.” Cassandra  hesitated, tears slid slowly from her clear, green eyes. Then her words tumbled out without warning.

“You haven’t heard from me for so long because I have been doing a lot of work. I was in the hospital for quite awhile - that’s another story - I wouldn’t let them call you. I went through detox there then the social worker got me to a long term treatment center down east. I’ve been out from there for a year now and have my own apartment. I’ve kept a job at one of the thrift stores on the other side of the city since moving into my apartment. You also have a grandson. Caleb is two years old now. I have shown him your pictures. I would like him to meet his grandparents but will understand if you don’t want to.”

Manley’s voice had returned to him. Gruff and defensive.

“Cassie, this is quite a lot to take in when Christmas is just a day away. Sounds to me that you’re just creating your usual Christmas crisis. And where is this grandson anyway?”

“Dad, I’m not going to beg and I’m not going to fight either of you. I’m telling you all this for my son, your grandson. Right now, he is with his babysitter. I won’t wait for Grandma and Grandpa, but will go now. Please tell them I love them and hope to see them soon.”

Cassandra got up to leave, still wearing her coat and pulled her gloves from her pockets. Genevieve, always the placater of the family, turned to Manley. 

“Manley, it is Christmas. I know, that’s not an excuse and sometimes not even a good reason. Why don’t we have Cassie and little Caleb over for Christmas dinner tomorrow? In fact, Cassie, could you stay here a bit longer to help me get some of the salads ready for tomorrow.”

“I don’t know, mom. I’d love to but dad is pretty worried. We need to listen to him too.”

“Well, it might be alright. But it might be better if we went and picked up - Caleb? A good family name. Your mom could come too, but she needs to be here if your grandparents get here. I’d do it by myself but Caleb won’t know who I am. Do you think we could take a ride together?”

“Thank you dad. Mom, is that ok? I don’t live that far away so we’ll be right back.”

Genevieve felt such relief and joy at having her daughter back with her. The old niggle of fear, ever present, felt much more distant than it had for a long time.

“Every traveler has a home of his own, and he learns 

to appreciate it the more from his wandering.”

~  Charles Dickens

*Opening line from writingexercises.co.uk