Goodbye

                                                                   Goodbye


     Interstate 75 thru Georgia and Florida is a road I have traveled many times since 1965 and here I am again heading south. Usually these trips are for pleasure though a few were for business and usually Linda is sitting in the passenger seat beside me, she would be singing along with the radio or crocheting something or maybe just letting me hold her hand as we talked while I drove. I am retired now so this isn't a business trip and while I always enjoy seeing Eileen and Ken I take no pleasure in this visit because I am going to say goodbye to Eileen.
     Eileen is not doing so well, Ken says she has not been feeling well since the first of the year, recently she has made a couple of trips to the emergency room. Her heart is giving out and there is nothing that can be done to fix it, the prognosis is that she has weeks left - how many is a question for which there is no answer. This is not one of those times where I can send a get well card or make a phone call that ends in a simple goodbye.
     This last year has taught me some things - 1. It makes no matter how happy you are in life or how well things are progressing something is going to happen to make you will realize that sometimes life sucks. 2. If I have learned anything from the events of the past year it would be that the hardest part of getting older is letting go of the people that were so much a part of your life, leaving you with nothing but memories. Yep, sometimes life sucks!
     Though there are hundreds of cars on the road yet I am lonely. Every exit holds a memory from the past fifty years, the radio can not compensate for the sweetness of Linda's voice so the memories keep me company. My mind ignores the radio and road sounds, it tells me this is too soon after Linda's passing, Eileen is too young, why am I not the one with a bad heart I am after all older than either one of them, what am I going to say to her, how am I going to say goodbye to another person that I love? The trip was long and tiring.
     Ken had a pizza waiting when I got there, we ate and talked. Eileen can't figure out what all the fuss is about, she knows she has been given six weeks to live but she feels good. Ken and Eileen are handling this much like Linda and I did - with a mixture of hope and reality. Linda was given months to live and she made plans for seven or eight months away, Eileen isn't looking that far down the road but she is looking past six weeks. The reality is that, like Linda, her time is short, her condition will not improve. Knowing that you will have to eventually let go of a loved one is the hardest part of holding on to them.
     Ken and I went fishing the next morning, we talked of many things while waiting for something to take the bait. Having walked the path he is now on I tried to pass along some knowledge of things to come and we made plans for future fishing trips. The rest of the day was filled with a nap, a lot of reminiscing and another trip to the fishing hole. The next morning we went fishing again and when we returned Eileen was awake and excited that two of her friends were going to take her fishing later that day. Ken and I went to breakfast, when we returned Eileen was still there, she had decided that she didn't feel well enough to go fishing after all. We all decided to take a nap.
     My plan was to stay thru Friday night and leave early Saturday morning but the reason I made the trip lingered in my mind like a six hundred pound gorilla, Ken and Eileen knew about the gorilla too and like me we avoided thinking about him. My nap was short and fitful so I got up and we all talked more about the past, it was good to hear Eileen laugh and I didn't care how loud she got, I didn't even care how many times she repeated herself.
     Ken asked about what we wanted for dinner and this was where my reality set in. I was hear to say goodbye to another person I loved and cared about, I didn't want to do it. I am tired of being sad, I am tired of tears flowing down my cheeks, I am tired of life changing direction on me.
     I looked at them and asked if they would mind if I left early, I think we all knew what was going on - the gorilla had to be dealt with. I loaded my things in the truck and as I came back in Eileen was getting off the couch, she said she had enough strength to stand for a hug. When we embraced I told her I was going to miss her, she told me the same then we kissed and hugged again, we both had tears in our eyes as I whispered in her ear to tell Linda that I still loved her, she hugged me tighter before letting me go. Ken stood with tears in his eyes and we hugged, then with out another word I turned and walked out.
     As I drove away I looked back to the house for a final wave of the hand but there was no one standing at the door or in front of the picture window, the gorilla was gone but the pain he caused would linger for a while.
     I'm back on the interstate heading north this time, once again memories help me to pass the time. It is not the memories that make me sad and lonely because I have nothing but good memories about Linda and Eileen. The memories are just caught up in the process of grieving that still has a tight grip on me and now I have more grief to deal with, life does indeed suck from time to time.
    


              "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened"

           Dr. Seuss

No Need To Worry Any More

                        No Need To Worry Any More




     Today, Linda's sister Vicki decided to throw a party for my 68th birthday. I tried to talk her out of it and have her wait until the milestone 70th birthday just two years from now but she insisted. The family gathered at Vicki's house for the festivities. I had picked up M.J.from Danny and Marie, she and I did some shopping along the way. Shortly after arriving Danny, Marie and Matthew showed up followed by my sister Vickie and Maggie and Clay.
      I had some things for Clay in my truck so he and Maggie walked out with me to get them. It was there that they informed me that Clay had proposed to Maggie during a short get away this weekend, they were engaged. The fact that they were someday going to marry was never a doubt in my mind but there was always a wondering as to when Clay would ever get around to popping the question. I hugged them both and kissed Maggie on the head as I did so. I have long thought they loved each other, both Linda and I had eagerly looked forward to having Maggie as a daughter - in - law. With out a doubt I am this day a proud father.
     Since Linda's passing I have experienced moments of sadness brought on by memories that pop up from the depths of my mind. I recently changed my route to my grief counseling sessions because the road was the same one that I always took when taking Linda to her Dr appointments or following the ambulance to the emergency room. The other day I cleaned the back deck for the first time since Linda died, I bought new seat cushions for the chairs and then I relaxed in the chair that Linda always sat in and looked out over the back yard just as she did. We spent many hours on that deck and now I wonder why I went to the trouble, the memories are still strong and painful.
     Today is the first birthday I have celebrated without Linda beside me since 1966 and as we gathered around each other and talked of various things I couldn't help but feel the emptiness from Linda's absence. Today the announcement that Clay and Maggie were engaged brought back one of the more touching memories of Linda.
     One of the most endearing qualities of Linda was her caring for the people that meant the most to  her. You see Linda always put others well being ahead of her own. She always made sure that the boys and I had everything we needed or even wanted before she took care of her needs. This time last year she told me I needed to look for another wife because I needed someone to take care of me, she was afraid I wouldn't take care of myself and I must admit there are times I think she may have been right. After she was pronounced terminal I caught her in a moment of despair, she was concerned about Clay which was not something new, she was always concerned about Clay he was after all her baby and he held a special place in her heart just as Danny held a special place because he was her first born. She was deeply concerned that M.J. would not remember her and that she would not get to hold Matthew in her arms. She was even concerned for her dog Lizzy. She was concerned for Marie in that her pregnancy would go well and that Maggie would finally get Clay to propose. She didn't want her family and friends locked in long periods of mourning.
     For the last three years or more and especially the last couple of months of her life, I spent a lot of time telling her everything was going to be alright even when I knew there was room for doubt in my own mind. I knew that we all would suffer from her absence just not to what extent. I didn't know how the boys or her sisters truly felt because I couldn't bring myself to talk to them about my own feelings. It was like there was this elephant in the room, we all knew it was there but nobody wanted to admit it was there so we didn't talk about it. I got to the place where I needed help so I started attending grief counseling meetings months ago, they have been a big help for me. I am at the point now that I am like a man standing on the boat dock of the past with one foot on the boat of the future, the boat is slowly drifting away, the gap widening ever so slowly and I must decide if I will stay on the dock filled with grief or step on the boat of my new life without Linda. I am so close to stepping off of the dock and on to the boat letting the tide take me away to a time when all of my memories of Linda are happy ones void of the tears of despair and loneliness.
     I looked around at my family and decided we were like families every where that have suffered the loss of a loved one. We hurt and cry, we grieve in our own way some more than others, some longer than others and then we move on, sadness and pain is slowly replaced by happiness and smiles of the good times we had.
     Having said all this I can say to Linda that her worries are unfounded, you did your job well and though we may for a while longer wear a mask to hide our pain we will be alright. We will continue to miss you and love you but we will be alright. You can rest now your work is done, you don't need to worry any more.

   

T-shirts

                                                        T- SHIRTS



     In 1904 the Cooper Underwear Co. ran an advertisement for bachelors that introduced a crew neck undershirt that instead of having buttons down the front it could be pulled over the head. This was the birth of what we now call the T- shirt. General acceptance of this garment came about in 1913 when the U.S. Navy began issuing T-shirts as part of the clothing to be worn by sailors. The Army soon followed suit as did millions of workers from farmers to dockworkers and businessmen.
     The author F. Scott Fitzgerald is credited with coining the name "T-shirt" in his 1920 novel "This Side Of Paradise". The name correctly described the shirt when it was on a flat surface, F. Scott used the term to describe an item of clothing young boys packed when they left for boarding school.
     In 1950 T-shirt ownership was so widespread that the next logical progression entered the scene. The Miami based Tropix Togs entered into a deal with Walt Disney and the state of Florida to print images on shirts, Mickey Mouse was emblazoned on peoples chest nationwide and do you remember the shirts that said "someone I know went to Florida and all I got was this shirt "? Thus T-shirts as an advertising tool was born, the unknowing or uncaring public would purchase a T-shirt from a business with the company logo on it and walk around displaying the shirt for all to see, the company not only made money from the sale of the shirt it got free advertising to boot.
     By 1967 T-shirts became placards for all sorts of images from pop art to political statements and comic images, if you couldn't find one to express your ideas there were shops who would print whatever you had on your mind. Today T-shirts are sold in practically every type of business from the local convenience store to big dept. stores and even building material stores. Every tourist area has several shops devoted to nothing but T-shirts of all persuasions of color and graphics.
     Today 95 % of Americans wear T-shirts on a daily basis. I started wearing T-shirts when I was a kid in the 1950's, it was then that T-shirts were considered underwear to be worn under your shirt except those T-shirts worn during gym class, they usually were in the school colors and had the school name emblazoned on the back or front. From then on I was seldom without my T-shirt, I am writing this wearing a shirt that declares me to be a "Top Dad".
     Over the years Linda and I collected and wore many T-shirts of various colors decorated with all sorts of images both serious and comical. I am sure I once had a Budweiser shirt, I drank enough of their beer that I should have bought stock in the company.
     I had a friend named Mike, we were the same height and build but he was 10 years older than me and our mutual friends jokingly called us old Mike and young Mike. This disturbed old Mike so he came up with the idea of each week we would jump on a set of scales, he who weighed the most would be known as fat Mike for the next week. Linda and I moved to Florida but we kept up the relationship and on a visit to see us Mike walked in and tossed a bright orange T-shirt to me, it had "Fat Mike " imprinted on the front. Because of our friendship I wore the shirt everywhere over the next few years, it drew many chuckles and remarks from strangers and made a good conversation piece, it was all in good fun.
     While living in Florida I did something to help out a friend and they were so happy about the outcome that they said "damn you're good", I adopted the phrase and used it often. My friends gave me a key chain (which I still carry today ), it has a flat well worn piece of metal embossed with black letters "Damn I'm Good". My mother heard about the story and for Christmas gave me a T-shirt with the words "Damn I'm Good"written across the front. Again it was all in good fun and I was proud to wear the shirt everywhere.
     Linda has also been the recipient of many T-shirts over the years, one in particular was when she was pregnant with Danny. One of the big baby shower gifts of the day was an extra large T-shirt big enough to decently cover a bulging belly, it said "our baby is here" and there was an arrow pointing down to the belly. Having waited for twelve years for this kid to come along she was happy to display her condition to the whole world. Weekends would often find us at the Disney World hotel complex walking around checking out the various festivities they had, there was always a crowd. One weekend as we walked around the complex holding hands I noticed people smiling and even snickering as we passed them, it finally dawned on me that Linda about eight months pregnant wearing her "our baby is here" shirt and me walking beside her wearing my "damn I'm good" shirt. Guess we did cause quite a few snickers and giggles.
     Over the years I have worn all manner of T-shirts most were decorated with company logo's, colorful fish or scenes of leisure. Clay had a friend who worked for a company that had a large quantity of shirts made for a customer who happened to be a contractor, the shirts were red with white lettering and they had a pocket on the front, the problem was that they misspelled something and had to throw them out. Clay's friend got hold of the shirts and I wound up with at least a dozen or more. I wore the shirts to work and around the house for ten years or more, in some circles I was known as that man in the red shirt, I had enough of them to wear every day for about two weeks.
     Linda had many T-shirts that she wore for all occasions, she bought few of them as friends gave her most of them. The shirts were decorated with the American flag, birds, butterflies, puppies, angels and flowers. One plain shirt had holes in it from the parrot she had, Mango the bird would climb around the shirt as she sat crocheting and bite holes in the shirt. The bird was loud and obnoxious but the two of them were a pair, she cried for days when it died, she didn't give up the shirt for a couple of years afterward, it was her Mango shirt.
     When Linda died I washed all of her clothes and put them away as if she would need them again soon. I asked several of her friends if they would like some of Linda's things as a reminder of her, they said they needed nothing to remind them of Linda. Linda's clothes have hung in the closet untouched for months. Her T-shirts were many and varied in style, color and content, most were given to her, maybe she bought a couple because they were cute. Some were threadbare and faded but she couldn't bear to give them up, they each had a special meaning for her, but more importantly they had a special meaning for the people that loved her.
     I recently offered the kids any of Linda's clothing they may want before I pass them along to some charity. Marie wanted the shirt Linda was most noted for, across the front it said " I have a coupon for that". Maggie on the other hand hated to see any of the shirts go away so I told her to take what she wanted then I told her about Linda making a couple of memory quilts for people. The idea was to use articles of clothing ( mostly T-shirts ) from a deceased person to make quilt squares, each square represented a memorable moment in that persons life. Maggie seemed to think a memory quilt would be a good use for Linda's T-shirt collection, she walked out with a couple of large bags full of clothing. I will look forward to seeing the quilt when she finishes it.
     According to the internet, 9 out of 10 Americans have at least one T-shirt they refuse to throw away because of a sentimental attachment. I have forty seven years of memories of Linda and her T-shirts each one is special and will never be thrown out.
     














     





 

I Love You

                                                           I Love You





     " Death is the great equalizer. It puts all things in their rightful perspective. It neutralizes transgressions, resentments and disappointments. If there is only a single chance to say something -- I love you is the most important thing we can say to each other. "

     Stephanie Ericsson
     Companion Through The Darkness


     I love you - the most endearing of sentiments between two people, probably the most used and sought after of expressions. Hugs, kisses, hand holding or whispering sweet words of prose into ones ear can only attain second place to I love you. Women are better at saying I love you than men, I think it is because they mature faster than men, so I have been told. Maybe it is because women are more prone to sentimentality and romance. Men on the other hand have no time for any sentiment that might be construed as a weakness, again - so I have been told.
     I grew up with out being told I was loved, sentimentality was a perceived thing. Consequently when I met Linda I had very little experience with love much less expressing it. I don't know which of us said it first, it could have been me as Linda was somewhat of a hard sell, she forced me to break tradition with my upbringing. What matters is that Linda was the first person I ever told that I loved them and she was the first person to ever tell me that they loved me. We said such things only when we were alone, after all this was nothing to be blurted out for the whole world to hear. We did love each other and would seek out opportunities for a quick kiss followed by an I love you or I would whisper I love you in her ear as I hugged her. Our letters written to each other when I was in Vietnam were littered with I love you's and signed I love you.
      All that was in the beginning, as we matured so did our love for each other. We sometimes stumbled and sometimes the storm clouds started to gather but we loved each other so much the fear of parting was unbearable so we fought to stay together, the words "I love you" turned disagreements into moments of shear bliss and dried the tears of despair.
     Most of her life Linda fought off depression, holding her tight and telling her how much I loved her as she cried was the only thing that kept her from sliding over the edge. Linda was a person that needed to be loved and I needed someone to love, we were a perfect fit for each other. Linda was the one who taught me to love her.
     Her illness did little to diminish what we had, if anything it strengthened our feelings for each other. Saying I love you several times a day became the norm, hugging was more frequent as were kisses and whispers in the ear. The last months, weeks and days of her life were no different than any other time just maybe more desperate. I tried to make I love you sound more sincere the hugs tighter and longer lasting, her happiness was more important than my sorrow.
     The above quote is from a book which was homework from my grief support group. The last words Linda spoke were to me, she said " I love you, I love you ", of all the times we said these words to each other this time is the one I will never forget. I don't know if she heard the last I love you I said to her but I like to think she did.
     Months have passed, the stress of loneliness is continuous, the pain of remembrance is still strong, the tears of sorrow still cloud my vision. Not long ago the house reverberated with the sound of Linda's voice, now it is haunted by her silence.  No more kisses, no more hugs, no more I love you's.
                                                 -------------------------------------------------
     Today is March 30, 2015, it should be Linda's 66th birthday, were she still here she would be pleased that I remembered, I have forgotten my share of birthdays and paid the price for my forgetfulness. Instead of a celebration this day has become another reminder that Linda is not here, June is the month of our anniversary, September will mark the day of her death, then the holidays will start the cycle over again. I am told that someday these milestones will be marked with happy memories that make me smile and be thankful for the time we shared. Today I am sad not for the memories but that I miss my Linda.
     I Love You Sweetheart, Happy Birthday.

More Stories About Linda

                                 More Stories About Linda







     When I first met Linda she was wearing hard contact lens, soft lens wouldn't be available for quite some time. She had been wearing contacts for several years. She told me that she didn't know she needed glasses until one of her teachers had her eyes checked and chewed out her father for not noticing the problem. Once she got glasses she was amazed at the transition, up until then she thought that everyone saw the world thru blurred vision.
     The glasses worked well in that they opened up a whole new world for her that was full of details she had never seen before. The only draw back was that her vision changed so rapidly that she required new glasses annually and each prescription was stronger than the last one. It wasn't until she was a teenager that she tried contact lenses and things settled down, her vision didn't change for many years, in fact she was wearing the original lenses when we met and she didn't get new ones until years later. She never indicated to me that she had a problem although I was concerned that she would wear her contacts for a couple of days at a time only removing them for a quick cleaning, she was not supposed to sleep in them but she did.
     We were constantly on the go back then, swimming, water skiing, camping trips to the mountains or Florida. We would be up all night driving somewhere or partying to the wee hours of the morning. When driving a long distance I would get tired and she would take over for me and I would awaken later to find her hunched over the steering wheel, she would deny anything was wrong. She was in her late twenties when I finally got her to have her eyes checked again, her prescription had changed but not much. Because we did a lot of water skiing I had her get a pair of glasses to wear in case she lost a contact, her vision was so bad that the lenses of the glasses were thick, like the bottoms of coke bottles, but there was nothing she could do.
     Years went by, the boys were born and grew to be teenagers, she was a housewife and as such she was constantly on the go for activities involving the boys. Years later Linda told me the reason she had Clay go with her to craft shows was to read the road signs, her eyes were getting blurry again but she wouldn't admit to anything. Now is the time I will say that Linda was not only beautiful and genuinely a good person she was also stubborn, independent and always concerned about money, she took care of every one else before tending to her own needs.
     There was a fix for her problem, it was called radial keratotomy. It had been around for several years having been perfected in Russia of all places, the procedure had only been performed in the US for about ten years and Linda waited to see what after effects may occur. Finally in the mid 1990's she had the operation which involved slicing the iris of the eye like the spokes of a wagon wheel, if performed incorrectly the she would lose her eyesight. She had her eyes operated on one at a time and after many months of recovery the operation was a success.
     Several days after the first eye was operated on and the eye patch was removed she took a shower, when she got out she found me and with an excited voice she told me she had looked down while in the shower and saw her toes. This didn't connect in my brain right away because that is what people usually see when they look down while in a shower. Linda explained that she had never, the optimum word here is NEVER, seen her toes unless she was wearing contacts which she didn't wear while taking a shower. A day or so later she was washing dishes and looked out the window and saw a squirrel in a tree which in itself was nothing unusual except that she also saw individual leaves on the branches of the tree. Up until then all tree leaves were just a green blur.
     Linda's world was expanding larger than life itself, it was brighter than ever before and full of little inconsequential items like leaves, pebbles, and dust on the furniture. Everything I had taken for granted my whole life she was just now discovering in great detail, only then did I realize just how bad her vision had been all those years. I watched as she threaded a needle for the first time without squinting, watched as sweat ran into her eyes without making her cry. At this time she was probably as happy as she was when her sons were born, Linda was most beautiful when she was happy.
     About four years ago, that would be 2011, Linda's vision was once again deteriorating, the diagnosis was cataracts in both eyes, she was slowly going blind. We knew nothing of her heart condition at the time, it would not have mattered to me had we known, I would have rather she died on an operating table than had to live out her life unable to see the beauty in her world. The issue again was payment, no insurance and no money but we had credit cards and $5000 was, oh well you can't take it with you.
     The operation was successful and she was soon back watching the Hummingbirds fight over the feeders in her back yard, she could see to make quilts again.
     For most of her life Linda had problems with her vision but she thought it would never improve so she lived with it, she hand stitched quilts, embroidered, needlepointed, crocheted with small thread and never complained. Every bit of her work was beautiful, perfect because she would put up with nothing less. It was Linda that taught me to see beauty in the daily grind most of us call life, I would see a squirrel chewing up the lawn, she would see a cute, furry, cartoon like character playfully looking for food.
     In the end Linda slipped into a coma, her eyes open to a world she could no longer see, a sad commentary for someone who could see so much beauty in the blurry shadows of life.



                           --------------------------------------------------------------------------------


                                                                The Babysitter


     After years of trying to have a baby I was told I didn't have enough little squigglies running around. We tried to adopt but it was not only a difficult process back then but I personally had a problem with the program. I worked on my adoption issues but before things could get serious Linda went to the doctor one day and came home with the news that she was pregnant. I can't tell you my exact feelings at the moment but I do remember being scared to death, what me a father, why I'm 33 too old to be starting a family, how are we going to afford another mouth to feed, I was dumbfounded and awe struck at the same time.
     By the end of the nine month incubation period I had resigned myself that fatherhood was not that bad of an idea, I was actually looking forward to holding a little bundle of joy in my arms. Ultra sounds and fathers in the delivery room were ideas still in their infancy so we didn't know for sure the sex of the baby although I think Linda knew it to be a boy. Then the great day arrived, July 10, 1980 Michael Daniel Riggan arrived via cesarean section, he had a full head of dark hair and his Hungarian doctor pointed to the large wet spot on his surgical garb to indicate that all functions were operational.
     Much like today mothers who gave birth via caesarian section had to take things easy for a while so I helped out wherever I could with feeding and diaper changes. One morning I awoke to the sounds of Danny waking up, I decided that I could handle his feeding and told Linda to stay in bed. Danny was a couple of months old at this time and was bottle fed so the first thing I did was mix his formula and warm it up. While the bottle was warming I changed his diaper and carried him in to the kitchen to check on the bottle which was ready. There we were father and son sitting on the couch, me in my BVD's and Danny in his diaper cradled in my arm and sucking on the bottle when the biggest grin appeared on his face. I thought he was happy to be looking up at his dad until I felt a warm sensation on my belly and a strong aroma permeating the room, whoever said that a babies poop didn't smell was obviously not a parent.
     Changing diapers was part of the job and nothing that couldn't be handled even though this was a lot to deal with. I took Danny in to the bathroom, turned on the water in the tub, removed the diaper and was in the process of figuring out what to do next when Linda walked in wondering if I was trying to kill my son. You see, when I stood up to take Danny to the bathroom I had to put the bottle down but he wasn't thru with it and became angry, voicing his displeasure very loudly. There I stood poop running down my belly over my BVD's and thighs, holding my son at arms length trying to wash poop off his backside and all the while he was screaming and the water in the tub was turning brown.
     I don't remember Linda's exact words but I do remember the feeling of relief as mom came to the rescue.

     Another time Linda left me in charge of Danny, he was walking by this time, he and I were in the garage and I wanted him to come to me so I called out to him and his response was one of the few words in his vocabulary "no". When I started after him he turned and ran in the opposite direction which was toward the street and I gave chase. Those short little legs of his propelled him quickly down the drive just as a car was coming down the street and the driver could not see Danny because of a parked car at the curb, fortunately he could see me running toward the street and had slowed enough to slam on the brakes when Danny darted out in front of him. The old man was a little shaken, I was scared and Danny was scared as he stood in front of a car that had just come to a screeching halt about two feet from him, he started to cry although I am not sure that at that age he knew why. I picked up my son and apologized to the old man as he breathed heavily, Danny's crying brought Linda to the scene and she took him from me as I explained what had just happened. Linda held Danny with his face buried in her neck and walked away quietly talking to him in a soothing tone that calmed him. As for me I got the " you have to keep an eye on the baby at all times " speech.


     Then there was the time Linda went grocery shopping and left me to watch Danny, we were in the garage Danny was playing in the saw dust on the floor when a neighbor walked up and he and I started talking. As my neighbor and I continued to talk  Danny lost interest in saw dust and started to wander around the garage, I followed him out of the corner of my eye but became momentarily distracted which was enough time for him to get into trouble. I heard him cry out and turned to find a coke bottle which had acetone in it laying on the floor and Danny was wiping at his face. Without saying a word to my neighbor I swooped Danny up in my arms and rushed into the shower stall in our bedroom. I turned the cold water on full blast and with Danny's head resting in one of my hands and the other hand holding tightly to his ankles I held him under the cold shower to wash away any of the acetone.
     It was about this time that Linda comes home and hears Danny's screams from the near drowning he was undergoing and she walked into the bathroom. There we were, both of us fully clothed and soaking wet, Danny in a nearly upside down position was sputtering as the shower briskly sprayed in his face, his little arms flailed at the water as he tried to cry out. Linda was upset as we checked Danny out and determined him to be ok, once again I got the keep your eye on the kid speech accompanied by the I just can't leave you alone with him. It was some time before Danny and I could enjoy a little guy time with out mom within earshot.
   

     Now with all of my problems pertaining to parenthood this is not to say that Linda was perfect, she was a great mother, she loved both boys with all her heart and did everything in her power to make sure they reached adulthood as young men that we could be proud of, in that respect she was very successful despite my ineptitude and my not always being around. She did though have her own troubles which I didn't always find out about until after the fact.
     There was the time, when we lived in California, she and the boys had gone on a day trip, Danny who was about six at the time was apparently acting up and Linda, her nerves frayed, had had enough  so she pulled over to the side of the interstate and made him get out of the car and she drove off. She didn't go far and Danny got the point.
     Danny was such a handful as a preteen it was even money if it would be Linda or one of his teachers who would kill him prior to his reaching puberty. There was the night I called home to tell Linda I was working late, Clay answered and quickly told me Danny had removed a window screen in his room and jumped to the ground running off to who knows where. Linda was not concerned and actually seemed somewhat relieved. I rushed home and went to his friends house and brought him home.


     When Clay was just a baby he developed a fever and even started turning blue, Linda was alone with the boys, I was at work. Fortunately the girl next door was at home and drove Linda to the nearest clinic as Linda gave mouth to mouth to Clay. Once they reached the clinic the doctors packed Clay in ice to get his fever down, he survived.


     These are but a few of the perils of parenthood, for my part I can say that Linda was probably right, left to my own defenses I should not have been left alone with the boys, their survival was solely due to their mothers efforts, she loved them, took care of them, watched over them and turned them into men who are a credit to her name, a legacy which she was very proud of.  

Grandpa's Day Out

                                         Grandpa's Day Out




     These last couple of years watching MJ grow have really been great, it is amazing how much energy and enjoyment can come from such a small bundle. I wish I could see the world with the same innocent view that MJ does but like anyone over the age of eight I have to be content to watch the expressions of her face shift from amazement to wonder and awe then listen to her limited vocabulary of oohs and wows.
      I had promised Marie that I would come over a couple of times a week and watch MJ so that Marie could get some rest. I have been waiting for a nice day to take MJ outside and that day finally arrived although it was a little foggy and not as warm as I had hoped it was tolerable. Today there would be no Mommy or Daddy or Aunts, just MJ and me.
      Once MJ was dressed in her pink jacket, jeans and pink boots I grabbed her back pack that was loaded with all of the necessities needed to take a two year old more that fifty feet from home. We headed for a nearby park that had a pond with ducks, geese and a playground with swings and slides. This is the park where Sis and I brought her when we baby sat her a few weeks ago. The pond was good sized and held a collection of ducks and geese some of whom had a rather questionable heritage according to their coloring but they were a fascination for MJ and quite willing to eat the bread as she tossed it to them.
     Today we were the only ones at the park and I was able to stand back and watch MJ as she explored her surroundings unencumbered with anybody pulling her away or trying to talk her into going some place she didn't want to go. She would pickup pine cones and hold them up to me and say " look " or " wow ", some things were even "cool ". She was fascinated with small twigs, broken sticks and rocks that she would have to dig out of the gravel with her fingers. These common place things which we as adults tend to walk over without thought garner intense interest on her part at least until some other trinket catches her eye. She was like a honey bee going from flower to flower seeking honey only in her case she was seeking knowledge. It was like Christmas morning, everything was a present to be opened and played with until the next gift was unwrapped. There was the hole in the netting on the tennis court that she had to bend over to look at and then giggle with delight. She showed intense interest in a piece of flaking paint from the tennis court and curiously examined it as she said "ooh", she carried it around for about ten minutes refusing to give it up until she found a bottle cap.
     Then we found a shallow puddle of water that made a splashing sound when she stomped thru it in her boots, she giggled with delight as she ran back and forth thru the puddle. She didn't stop until a goose flew by flapping it's wings during a short flight to the pond, she watched wide eyed and simply said "wow" then it was off to find a yet undiscovered object of delight. There were goose feathers, dirt and surprisingly a yellow crayon, nothing escaped her eagle eyes.
     I let her walk every where, as she started up a hill she would grab a hold of my finger to steady herself. She was constantly looking around and pointing to something saying "look", not knowing if she was pointing near or far Grandpa just said "un huh" and she moved on. I can't wait for her to talk more clearly, there is so much I want to say to her.
     Walking around she would see things like the worn out and faded paint on the tennis court, I don't know what the original colors were but now they were a faded red trimmed with a black border that has faded to a bluish tint and stripped in white. MJ ran to the colors bent over pointing and saying "red, blue or white ".
     Lunch time was fast approaching so I loaded her up and we took off to Grandpa's house, the weather was still a little wimpy so she watched some Disney channel while she ate. I pulled out my copy of Monster's Inc., she clapped and said "yea". Once the movie started she crawled up on the couch and snuggled in next to me. I have to say moments like these are the reason I enjoy being a Grandpa.
     After the movie it was nap time, I had prepared the trundle bed for her to sleep on and had already laid out several stuffed animals. I picked her up along with Baby and a large pink rabbit and walked into the bedroom. I thought she would lay down with the stuffed animals on the bed but when I sat her down she tossed the blanket to the side, placed Baby and the rabbit at the other end of the bed, flopped face first next to Baby and was out like a light. All I could do was stand there with envy of her ability to fall asleep so fast, innocence, ain't it grand.
     While MJ slept I relaxed on the couch watching TV wanting to take my own nap but knowing I needed to be alert for her. It was quiet, no laughter, giggles or sounds of astonishment, I had time to think and remember back to a time when her Dad was two years old. Those were good days, I didn't travel or work as much back then and I was proud of my son. I used to put him on my shoulders and walk around the small neighborhood stopping to talk or let the older people touch and look at him, they were probably remembering their happier days just as I am now.
     MJ woke up several hours later, just as she always does, talking to her stuffed animals until someone comes for her. When I walked in she sat up with a smile on her face and held out her arms to me. A quick diaper change and she was ready to go again, she played for a little while and then it was time to go home.
     I look forward to the next outing and the next and the next. There was so much I missed out on with Danny and Clay because of my work, I feel that I have a second chance with MJ. There is a problem though, MJ's little brother Matthew is only a month old but in two years he will be the same as MJ is today soaking up knowledge like a sponge, filling my life with laughter and giggles. Matthew will be two, MJ will be four and Grandpa will seventy, I am sure I will be tested but I can say for certain I will never tire of laughter and giggles, hugs and kisses.
     I gotta say, I enjoy being a Grandpa !
    
    

Linda Stories

                                       
                                                       Linda Stories


                                 Accident Prone

     When Linda and I were dating my dad called to tell me my brother Pat was going into the Navy and would I want his car, just take over the payments. Up until this time I would hitchhike from the base in Cocoa Beach to Linda's house a distance of about 20 miles, at least two of those miles involved walking so obviously my answer was yes. The car was a six year old 1960 Ford in good condition.
     Funds were limited in those days, I only made $49.00 every two weeks but I had to have a car. I took leave and went home to get the car. I left Nashville with probably no more than $25 -$35 which should have been enough but then I wasn't counting on the generator going bad, to make a long story short I arrived back at the base with fumes in my tank and empty pockets.
     Linda and I made good use of the car, we were both proud of it. I decided that Linda needed to learn to drive it. She protested at first but I kept at her until she finally got behind the wheel. The street she lived on was short and you had to turn onto a rather busy two lane road. There was no power steering in the car, to make a sharp turn required having to turn the steering wheel completely around at least twice. Traffic was heavy going left so I had Linda turn right, she pulled out and started to make the turn but she failed to turn sharp enough and we wound up getting hit almost head-on.  Our injuries were light, mostly bruises but the car was totaled and Linda received a citation.
      Linda was very upset about the wreck, after all she had totaled my car. Any other suitor might have walked away taking this incident as an omen of things to come but I didn't see it that way. I may have lost the car but I still had the girl.
     This was accident number 1.


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     In 1972 we bought our first new car, it was a 1972 Dodge Demon the cheapest model they had, no carpet, air conditioning or automatic transmission and the seats were vinyl. To be honest gas prices were rising sharply and I could no longer afford my 69 GTO.
     I was working at a bank downtown and spent days at a time chasing people who wouldn't pay their bills and the bank provided me with a company car. Most of the time Linda road a bus to work so she would only need our car for grocery shopping and the like.
     One night I returned home and there sat the Demon in the drive, I noticed that the right front fender appeared as if someone had tried to open it with a giant can opener. I went inside where Linda was sitting on the couch crocheting. When I asked her what happened to the car she just gave me a strange look. She honestly had no idea of the damage.
     I finally deduced that two nights prior there had been a heavy rain storm and Linda had been caught out in it, rather than pull over to the side of the road and wait for it to pass she just slowed down and kept going ( she could be stubborn like that ). One part of the route home was a short curvy stretch of road that passed a house where a plumber lived and he often parked his work truck in the drive and that night it must have had a pipe protruding from the bed and Linda hit it as she passed by.
     We never fixed the fender we drove the car for another year or so and sold it as is to a mailman in the country. I suspect he never fixed it either.
     This was accident number 2.


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     Not long after we bought the previously mentioned Demon I had an opportunity to purchase a boat from a bank I worked with in Muscle Shoals, Al. The bank had repossessed the boat and needed to get rid of it and after several months made me a deal I couldn't pass up. It was a nice boat that originally cost about $4ooo and I got it for $1900. It was 18 ft. in length, tri hull design, walk thru windshield with a 125 hp. Johnson engine.
     We spent every weekend at the lake waterskiing or camping or both, we enjoyed the lake so much we bought a house just 200 yards from the water and kept the boat at a boat dock so we didn't have to be troubled with launching and loading the boat whenever we wanted to use it.
     One Saturday before we moved to the lake we picked up my little brother Ronnie and went to the lake for a day of waterskiing. Everything went fine until Linda, who was driving the boat with Ronnie sitting beside her, turned into this cove that was long and narrow. She quickly saw that there was other boat traffic in the cove headed her way. There was a side cove to the right, it was small but more importantly shallow and strewn with rocks. I  knew very well what was about to happen so I tried pulling on the rope to get Linda's attention but to no avail and finally I just tossed the rope in the air and settled into knee deep water. Linda kept going and hit some rocks going full blast, the engine raised up in the air and slammed down hard on the transom and raced at high speed before shutting down. I walked over to the boat and I must say I was pissed, I remember not saying anything at all. I checked the engine and found that all of the propeller blades had been sheared off to some extent, there was a dent in the lower unit but the motor ran.
     We were about a mile from he dock and the motor would barely make headway so it was a long quiet ride back. When we got to the dock I stepped out and tied up the boat and walked to the car, got in and started it, Linda and Ronnie were so concerned over my silence they ran to keep up so they wouldn't be left behind. I dropped Ronnie off at home without getting out of the car, when I reached our house I walked straight to the bedroom and went to bed. In all this time I never said a word.
     About an hour later I stirred in my sleep and awoke to find Linda stuffing clothes in a suitcase, tears were silently running down her cheeks.When I asked where she was going she said she was leaving me because she broke everything I had and didn't want to cause me anymore pain, I would be better off without her. I can't get down to details but let's just say that after pulling her down on the bed and kissing away the tears and telling her how much I loved her, I convinced her to unpack.
     Days later I found out that all the boat needed was a new $30 propeller, a far cry from what I thought. Linda learned to stay out of that shallow cove and I still cherish the memory of kissing away Linda's tears.
     That was accident number 3.


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     Things went pretty well for the next twenty years or so. It was sometime in the late nineties when I came home one night to find the Ford Taurus Linda drove was gone but Linda was home. Seems she had been out shopping and was stopped at a light when a cement truck rear ended her totaling
 the car.
     I wasn't involved in this and Linda assured me that it was all being taken care of, Linda was unhurt and that was the important thing.
     This was accident number 4.



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     Next comes the Dodge pickup truck we purchased in the later nineties. During this period I worked a very late second shift and Linda made doughnuts for the Ingles store often going to work around four in the morning, she drove the truck.
     One morning I was turning into the subdivision just as Linda was turning on to the hi-way. I glanced into the rear view mirror and noticed there was only one tail light showing. I turned around and drove to Ingles, Linda was already inside when I pulled along side the truck.  There it was, the right rear taillight busted and a piece if tree bark was embedded in it. Linda had no idea what had happened.
     Once I got home the sun was starting to come up and it didn't take long to figure things out. Linda had somehow managed to hit a small oak tree while backing out of the drive. Linda said it was dark  and our truck windows were dark tinted so she couldn't see the side mirrors while backing up. That was her story and she was sticking to it, beyond that I still haven't figured out how she managed to back up the drive and run into a tree four feet away from the driveway.
     I repaired the truck cheaply enough and decided Linda may need more room while backing so I cut down the tree. I liked that tree.
     This was accident number 5.



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     In 2007 we bought a new Ford truck, this was to be the last vehicle we would own, this was the truck the boys would fight over when we were gone, and it well may be after all.
     Not long after Linda was diagnosed with her heart troubles, she went shopping in Athens. I was in the garage when she pulled up, she got out of the truck and said " I'm alright ". The truck was a different story, the most obvious thing was the right side of the front bumper was actually bent around into the wheel well and folded back on itself, this was a steel bumper mind you. Other than that, most of the front end had to be replaced as well as the right front door. Total repair cost about $8500.
     Seems that Linda was on her way home and realized she was in the wrong lane and before she could change lanes the car in front of her stopped. The lady in the other car told police that she was not hurt but not surprisingly racked up a decent medical bill later, the whole thing wound up costing $38,000 .
     Linda was already starting to have some medical issues so I decided to retire her from driving, from that point on I drove her where ever she needed to go, I didn't mind as I got to hold her hand as I drove.
     The truck is still going, it has 110,000 miles and according to Ford after charging me $650 for a tune up it is good for another 100,000 miles. We'll see about that.
     This was accident number 6.

     Update: it is now 2023, the truck has about 158,000 miles. I only use it to tow the boat to the lake or pick up lumber at Lowe's.


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     Now before you assume that I never had an accident I must in all honesty say that I had my share. There was the new 1980 Chevy Malibu that I was driving when a woman decide she wanted my space on the road. We also had a Chevy Monte Carlo I was driving home from work when a big deer decided run across the road. The above mentioned Dodge truck attracted deer like flies, I killed two of them at the same spot in the road a year apart.
     These accidents that Linda seemed to be prone to were often a source of humor to our friends and a momentary irritant to me. Linda did several things that would make me bite my tongue but I could never stay mad at her, I loved her too much.
     I wish she were here now, I would let her drive the truck.