Something about summertime that stirs the imagination and invigorates the soul. Stealing off and skinny-dippin down at the Cimarron River, if mama ever knew, the lickin I would have received. Special days and times, now so precious to me.
Old tin roof, leaves in the gutter. Yellow jackets on the watermelon, honey-suckle in the air, Daddy turning on the sprinkler, letting us run thru it in our underwear. Falling asleep in my Grandpa’s lap, to the sound of his pocket watch ticking in his vest. Angel Food Cake on the counter and a silver fork in my hand.
Well, once again the time has snuck up on me and it is time to go. I have important things to do this day. Tractor is out of fuel, hose broken on the weed-sprayer, have about a half-pile of rock to spread before noon, when the heat starts to rear its ugly head.
One thing I need to work on today would be the joke file for the little buddies. My job there being to make up new jokes for the grand-kids when they come to visit. Always a high point of my day, I love the grandkids and their visits (It’s their parents I am not all that fond of) .
Why are ghosts bad at telling lies?
(Because you can see right thru them!).
What is dead and plays soccer?
What happened when the ghost disappeared into the fog?
(He was a mist).
Amusing a small child is not all that easy, trust me. Of all the hats I wear in life, I have to admit, the one that I am most proud of is the one that reads … Grandpa. A hard row to hoe on some days, but also an endless source of pure unadulterated joy.
I find myself sitting watching these three little dinkers play (my grand-babies) and listening to their seemingly endless chatter, their amusement of just about anything, breaks them out into raucous laughter.
Ear splitting and long lasting laughter.
Their joy is somewhat infectious and it is hard to stay in a bad mood, when you are in the company of these two kids. Their little brother, who is quite the handful himself (he is just barely two years old), is quickly drawn into it, although I am not sure he understands what all the commotion is about.
You ever notice how small children celebrate life?
They just laugh, and I mean laugh hard, at just about anything. They laugh for the sheer joy of it and nothing more. It is that childlike innocence that we all secretly yearn for in our lives, those carefree days where the only problem we had was cramming enough waking hours in the day, devoted to nothing but fun.
We cannot wait to grow up, we rush head-on to meet adulthood with complete abandon, and that is where the rub lies. With new found citizenship in the adult world comes all the trappings that go along with it.
You forget to laugh, you have to replace laughter with worry. Where will I get the money for groceries, where will I find cheap gas, who is going to send these kids thru college, why is the government running amuck? Over time, all of this, in no certain order, erodes your life, it steals your joy and you find very little humor in life.
“When you grow up … Like it or not …. A little piece of your heart dies.”