#21591 - 10/26/11 02:30 PM
Re: Who Are You?
[Re: Maureen]
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Ravenwood
member
Registered: 11/11/08
Posts: 170
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Fall Is Still My Favorite Season
Daddy was in the Army for countless ‘hitches’ he called them, so when he joined the oil company he was already near forty. His low seniority meant that he didn’t get his yearly vacation till fall, which worked out delightfully for Miranda and me. Tasha. That’s me. How could a good ol’ Conneticut Yankee pin his daughters with these names? Your question is shared by most folk. But my answer is simple enough. I don’t know if it’s correct, but it’s simple, and it’s my fantasy. Daddy travelled the world with the Army for many years before he and Momma married. Miranda and Tasha were his favorites of the many beautiful, enchanting girls he fell in love with, I’m sure, in mysterious, faraway lands.
Gramps and Grammy McFarland—that’s Momma’s parents—Daddy grew up in orphanages and never knew his parents... Gramps and Grammy came to see us twice each summer, and that was swell. They would come more often, but they lived thousands of miles from us, or so it looked on the atlas at school, and in the early sixties most folks rarely made trips that far. Construction of Interstate highways, just now taking place, and cars just now becoming more reliable, were the causes of that, Daddy said.
Gramps being here was like going to some fairyland; we loved that man from the moment he first came. He looked like a picture of Santa—even had the pipe and glasses, and that’s who I imagined him to be… Santa with jovial Irish accent, how could it be better? He insisted on cranking out homemade ice cream every day from the salt-bleached old wooden-cased freezer he brought in their pickup truck. He knew the best of stories, and they all ended in the funniest ways that had Miranda and me holding our sides and rolling on the floor. (And Grammy rolling her eyes at his fibs.) He took us to the zoo, and for walks in the park. Gramps knew all the different birds and he would tell Miranda and me the history of each species. (It was years before we discovered that he made up most of that stuff, but it didn’t matter to us.)
He rose before anyone else and fixed coffee for the grownups, and the smell of that coffee would wake me. Was it the smell, or was it him clanking around in the kitchen; I can’t be sure. But I would jump from bed and scurry to join him before the others got up. He would start the biscuits too, and he let me help. He did the cooking at home because Grammy had had a stroke, and she was in a wheel chair. She sang a lot. Church psalms, mostly, but she sang lots with a beautiful voice. I imagined that must be what angels sound like.
But they would have to leave.
Was Daddy even more sad than Momma was over their going? Because Gramps and Grammy were his parents now, and he treasured his time with them so much.
So it wasn’t Christmas that Miranda and me looked forward to, like most our friends did. It was Daddy’s vacation. We knew we’d be going to Gramps and Grammy’s home, the DeSoto loaded down and stuff tied on top. Like lots of the cars we met on the way. Some of my schoolmates said their Daddies were grouches on a trip, but we could see that Daddy was as pleased as Miranda and me. Maybe more so, if that was possible.
It would be Fair time when we got there, and Gramps would take Miranda and me and Daddy to see the cows and pigs and cucumbers and pumpkins and canned peaches and homemade cakes and rhubarb pies—I had never seen a rhubarb pie before—and there were tractors and plows, all bright and shiny to lure the farmers into buying. And there was cotton candy and barbecue and fried potato slices to eat while we walked and looked. Our cheeks and hands had enough grease on them to oil one of those tractors. Celebrities were there, and one year we saw Tennessee Ernie Ford. He spoke to us just like he knew us. But everyone did that with Gramps.
There was a carnival with a Ferris wheel and a roller coaster and other rides and tattooed ladies and rings to be tossed over a coke bottle to win a kewpie doll. There were clowns in funny costume walking on stilts or juggling red balls. Me and Miranda ate till we was full, and then the rides made Miranda lose some of hers. But she laughed anyways. Even Daddy rode the rides. He had never been to a Fair, he said, till Gramps took us first time.
Gramps eventually left farming and moved into town. When we were there, if it was too cold to play outdoors, he parked his truck on the street and let the leaves fall and cover his drive. Then he would raise the garage door and sweep the leaves inside for me and Miranda to romp in. Daddy sometimes romped, too.
And then we made a trip out there when it wasn’t vacation time, and Daddy and none of us was pleased… we went for Gramps burial. And the preacher, when he had finished, he asked if there was anyone who wanted to occupy the stage and say something. Daddy raised his hand, and he walked up. I didn’t know what to think because Daddy always said how he was shy and nervous if asked to address a group.
Daddy didn’t stutter, but he did cry. He said how it was Gramps McFarland that not only helped him to raise Miranda and me as a good man ought, but it was Gramps McFarland that allowed him to be, at last, a son and a boy and to grow up with a Daddy of his own.
And everyone in the congregation—more folks than lived in that town, I'm sure—stood up and applauded. I’m guessing that more people than Miranda and me and my Daddy grew up feeling loved because of the man laying in that box.
........................
My seventh grade teacher asked the class to write an essay “My Most Unforgettable Character”, I guess because of the Reader’s Digest item at the time. I wrote the one above. It is in my hands these decades later as I look out at falling leaves. The essay is poorly written, I realize that now of course, but I won’t apologize for that. The teacher didn’t even point out that I didn’t identify which of the men was my favorite. Maybe she knew it was both of them.
Fall is still my favorite season.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
...........
Maureen, thank you for caring for us enough to assign a new task. To honor that, I set aside fence building this morning in order to comply. So, it's back to the fence now. Bring your post hole diggers and come on over. 
R.
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#21594 - 10/27/11 01:48 AM
Re: Who Are You?
[Re: Anonymous]
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Nate741
old hand
Registered: 02/25/04
Posts: 834
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get well soon bentlink... is still here! making sure i am counted here.
Working on third installment of my starlight stories. Doing this from the laptop, so i can do it sitting up in bed.
Nathaniel
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#21598 - 10/29/11 01:54 PM
Re: Who Are You?
[Re: Nate741]
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Maureen
enthusiast
Registered: 08/31/04
Posts: 310
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When I was a child I counted the days to Christmas. I was well prepared when Halloween came around, planning my costume long in advance. Diane, Judy, and I went out on the night before in one direction from our house, and the other direction on Halloween night. We carried big brown bags, paper not plastic, if you please. My mother never thought that anything would happen to us on those streets. But then in the summer we ran to the playground in the morning and never came home until we got hungry.
"We want a handout." That is what we cried went we got to the door. Everyone was ready for us with candy, some wrapped, some not. We never worried too much about that either. What fun we had, laughing and running from one house to the other, the witches, fairies, black cats, whatever costumes our mothers' could put together. None of those 'buy a costume' stuff. Are you kidding? When people ran out of candy they passed out pennies.
One year in addition to the candy, I got nine cents. No bad. It was northern Pennsylvania and some years it snowed. We hated that because if you wore a coat your costume would not show.
My children did the same thing many years later. When they brought the candy home I carefully inspected it all. A little more cautious than my mother had been. Their candy had to last until Thanksgiving.
Thirteen years ago children were still coming to our house. Mainly with parents, whether to protect them or just for the fun of it, I can't say. At that time about 50 were still coming.
Now I live in a seniors' apartment building. No children will come, most likely, although last year Louise brought her great grands for me to see. Luckily I had some candy.
Now, it is two days until Halloween. And, yes, I went to Sam's club to buy a big box of Tootsie Pops just in case, besides when anyone comes to my house I give them one of them.
Incidentally, October 31 was my father's birthday. He would have been 105, but he died when he was 70. And I myself am an old woman, without costume.
What has changed? Many things, but some things stay the same. I still like my candy. Come over and I will give you a Tootsie Pop.
Maureen
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