A Well Written Page

His eyes were still a bright blue. Curious eyes…but tired eyes. Eyes that have opened wide in wonder, looked on with great pride, searched for many an answer and wept in heartbroken sorrow. Eyes that have in younger days winked at more than one pretty young girl and in later years given looks that have discouraged more than one young child from committing any further mischief. His face was tanned and deeply lined from thousands of sunny days, smiles and the worries that only a father knows and quietly bears. Laugh lines from more good times than he can remember…crow’s feet from searching so many dark nights to catch a glimpse of a child getting home safely…a furrowed brow from years of wondering why…and how…and what really was the right thing do? And did he do it? There’s a line from a song that was written back in the 1800’s called “Maggie”. It says, “My face is a well written page Maggie, and time alone was the pen”. I can only hope that when the time comes, my page reads well.

I Asked For Your Hand

I asked for your hand...you gave me so much more. I asked for your hand, you gave me your opinion. Something I’ve found most valuable...most of the time. I asked for your hand, you gave me your curiosity. Sometimes a very “curious” curiosity I must say. I asked for your hand, you gave me your common sense. Most uncommon these days. I asked for your hand, you gave me your dreams. I know I’ve let you down on more than one of those. I asked for your hand, you gave me your trust. You gave me your faith. You gave me your...well...we’ll talk about those later. You gave me the chance to be the father to your children and the Grandpa to your grandkids. I owe a big thank you there. I asked for your hand, you gave me my best friend...my hope...my strength...my rock. You gave me the chance to be loved and the once in a lifetime opportunity to love you. I asked for your hand...you gave me so much more. I asked for your hand...you gave me your life.

VIPs

This oldie is dedicated to the VIP in the Porshe Cayenne I shared the road with this morning----I met some really important people the other day. Well, I can’t actually say I met them, but I did watch them as they sailed by a bunch of us good citizens waiting our turn in one of those lane ends construction areas. You know...you see one of those lane ends up ahead signs and you pull over and wait your turn to go through like everybody else...except the really important people. I mean they must be really important...because they can’t wait in line like the rest of us. They go right to the front and force their way in. I figure they do this because they have much more important places to go and much more important people to see than the rest of us. Their time must be much more valuable than ours. Yep...that must be what it is. I mean...you don’t think they could just be arrogant, thoughtless and rude do you? Nooo...they can’t just be inconsiderate jerks...can they? They must be much more important than you and I. I must confess to being a very bad person though. Because when I finally do get to the front of the line and there’s a very important person trying to get in front of me...I don’t let ‘em in. Screw ‘em. Terrible aren’t I?

Tiny Hands

Here’s to tiny hands...curious hands...sticky hands. Hands whose tiny fingers poke and point and smoosh and stick their little selves in places we won’t dig into, so to speak, here. Hands that can cling to the tiniest piece of sacred blankie satin with great precision, while pouring what’s left of the Cheerios into, under and around the dog’s dish. Here’s to tiny hands that only want to color with permanent markers. They know the difference. They really do. Here’s to tiny hands that love Mommy polished nails and plastic tea cup parties. Here’s to tiny hands that love mud and trucks and drums made out of an empty coffee can and two old sticks. Here’s to tiny hands that love to wrap fancy feather boas around tiny necks and put Mom’s fancy heels on tiny feet and try to dance. Here’s to tiny hands...curious hands...sticky hands that I will try to hold in mine forever and have to let go of too soon. Please stay tiny just a bit longer...for Grandpa.

Hey Spring

Hey Spring...this is what I’m talking about. C’mon...you can do it. Looks like you’re getting your act together and startin’ to kick a little ice around here. Keep it coming. Turn it up to warm and get those daffodil heads poking up through the tundra. And hey there Mr. Red, Red Robin…we are ready for some full time bobbin’ around here. Even though Old Man Winter really showed his age this time around, it’s still been too brown and gray and window closed and all cooped up for too long. We need you to start getting on with the greenery. C’mon Spring...you can do it. Flex your crocuses and give the cold, old geezer a good swift kick in his frozen pants. And tell him not to let the garden gate hit him in the icicles as he heads north. Turn up the thermostat Spring and let the T-shirts begin. It’s tulip time. C’mon...you can do it. Get the sap running and the grass growing. It’s time to smell the lilacs and slap some mosquitoes. C’mon spring you can do it. Get out there...put up your dukes...and give the North Wind the old what for. This is what I’m talking about. Don’t turn back…don’t give up now…don’t turn into some kind of…Pansy.

Extra Large!

Ok…I’m getting a little older…and I guess you could say I’m getting a little rounder, but when did I get to be “Extra Large”? That’s the size shirts I have to buy these days. Now, I’ll admit I’m not the svelte, lean, dashing stud I was a few years ago. OK…quite a few years ago, but “Extra Large”?! Is there anyone out there making clothes in regular old sizes for anyone over the age of twenty something? Don’t they know the world is not entirely populated by under shaved, underweight young squirts with spiked up hair who fit comfortably in cute little foreign cars slightly bigger that my sneakers? Everywhere I look I’m seeing “Skinny Jeans”, “Athletic Fit”, “Slim Cut”…I’m not seeing “Older Guy Chunky” or “A Little More Room In The Butt Cut” or shirts with those new and improved “Go Ahead and Breath” buttons. And if I’m “Extra Large”, what size do the guys that I consider to be “Extra Large” have to buy… “Double X X Tent and Awning”? May I suggest a couple of new sizes that would not be an insult to my maturity? How about “Grandpa Cut”? I could live with that. Or “Distinguished Fit”? That’s got a nice ring to it. “Extra Large”…I don’t think so.

Today

Today, someone who will make a difference in this world will be born. Today, someone who made a difference in this world will die. Today, a child will take a first step…say a first word. Today, a marriage will end. Today, someone will fall in love. Today, someone will pull a trigger. Today, thank God, someone won’t. Someone will finally laugh and someone will finally cry. A heart will break, a heart will heal. Someone will think today is incredibly boring. Someone will think today is the best day of their life. Someone will decide that this is the day. Someone can’t wait for this day to be over. Today, someone will try something for the first time. Today, someone will do something for the last time. Today it will begin. Today it will end. Today, someone will get a chance. Today, someone will waste a chance. Have a nice day…today.