Life Unhindered

"I remember that when I was young I loved to see the small wonders I now take for granted. Those long summer days when I would wake up to mornings eager and with fervent anticipation. I would sit on the porch quietly waiting for the morning mist to rise and the dew to dry. The world looked really big sitting in grandpa's old rocking chair. It was as if time dragged its legs rather slowly in our neck of the woods. The old cabin that I used to call home is now gone and the quiet country life that I sorely missed now gave way to suburban housing and shopping malls. Gone are the slow rushing of creek water I remember so vividly. Gone are the day-long chirping of birds and the pine-scented breeze.

Sitting there in that lonely stretch of road facing a road side cafe whose neon sign flickers on and off, I think of where my life had been. In that cold bench waiting for the bus I think to myself what now? The world has little use of a greying old man's company. Suddenly I felt burdened by the years and my heart grew weary. Yet I have so much to tell. I have so much to share. Grandfather was fond of saying to me that to remember days gone by you have to keep something special to remind yourself of those days. I have nothing. Looking back behind the bench I stare for perhaps the hundred thousandth time the only memory I have left of home. It sat there gathering years of dust and neglect in an antique shop a young Jewish couple was running. Propped against a wall was grandpas old rocking chair. I didn't think the antique shop owners would mind an old man dropping by so I grabbed my cane and made my way across. Before I got to the door they closed shop. The "WE ARE OPEN" sign no longer flickered and what little light availed me was from a streetlamp. I peered through the glass to see grandfather's rocking chair one more time, perhaps, for the last time. I had to squint for my sight no longer serves me well. Condensation on the glass from my heavy breathing couldn't keep me from seeing what I came to see. On the chair's hind legs was an inscription I didn't think the shop owners ever saw or cared to see. I know because I remember placing it there one cold winter morning a lifetime ago. My heart throbbed with joy because despite the many layers of varnish it's still there;"GRANDPAPPY AND ME". I'm hoe. I'm finally really home.".

I wrote this piece on the 11th of November, 1995, and on the left hand corner near the bottom of the page was my reason for writing this piece;" I dedicate this story to the many many special souls who toiled and labored all their lives and have nothing to show for it but bitter memories, graying years, worried brows, and calloused hands. I commend them for they are the epitome of hope. They are the forebearers of dreams. Theirs is a powerful narration of the human spirit."