I live in St. Louis, MO, but my heart and soul hang out at the beach. I am a multi-genre, award winning writer, and speaker. I am a seasoned pre-k teacher, on line writing instructor, wife, mother, Nana to twelve. Hopefully, something I say will make you smile, further your writing career, or inspire you to write from the heart, too. email@example.com. Twitter, @WriterLindaO.
Friday, February 10, 2012
A handful of memories
You can tell that there is a love affair going on. You probably can't tell by this lovely picture that it's like a circus at our house. Note the performer in her tutu and the big happy face clown. See the barking dog and hissing cat? You say you can't see the animals?
They are resting on the arms of the recliner. The dog is to your left. The cat is on your right and wears a wedding band. The human performers control the animals. The clown owns the animals and the ballerina bosses (trains) them. Grandpa Bill and Nicole can sit there for fifteen minutes playing dog and cat with his huge "paws". The dog barks and tries to bite her. She smacks it and tells it to lie down. The cat acts up. They all aggravate each other, the dog, the big guy, the cat, the little girl. They giggle and laugh out loud. It is the most annoying game I have ever witnessed, literally, all they do is annoy one another.
But it such an empowering, playful and simple game for this little girl. It is one of those memory makers that I hope she holds onto for life. I cling to a similar memory I have of my grandfather and me. I called him Pappy and he died the day after I turned six. I smile everytime I think of how I sat on the porch with him and looked in awe as he drummed his fingers and made the sound of clopping horses on the wooden rail. I tried in vain to replicate what he did. When he said, "Hear the horses? Here they come," my eyes widened, my brain sparked (hear/here...I got it!). I looked all around for the real horse, because I am old enough to remember milk being delivered by a horse and wagon in our North city neighborhood. We lived blocks away from a dairy.
When an adult gives a kid a hand early in life, it should come in the form of a love pat, a playful gesture, a positive stroke. Reach out your hand to a child today, anyone's child.
This is for writer friends, think of someone in your early life who gave you a hand up, who hands down was the best influence, whose hand patted your back, rubbed your brow....you get it. Now write a paragraph about it, and if you allow your words to flow, you may end up with an essay to submit. And then if it gets published, everyone will give you a hand for you accomplishment.
OKAY, I'll stop. Now you get going.
Posted by Linda O'Connell at 7:19 AM
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I actually went to a high school teacher of mine--one who was stern and no-nonsense, not a warm-fuzzy or funny teacher--and thanked her decades after she taught me. But, you gave me an idea. Perhaps I COULD come up with an essay about her...Thanks for the inspiration, and the heart-warming story.
I find this post so touching, it reminds me of my granddad!
Awwwww, cute post, Linda. That little granddaughter will have memories for a lifetime! Susan
p.s. Guess my paragraph would be on a godmother of mine who, before every birthday, would ask me what I wanted and then added, "You can have anything your little heart desires."
Imagine hearing THAT? Oh boy, wish somebody would say that to me now! ha ha haha haha
So sweet, the love between grands!
Anything to do with kids and grandkids are wonderful. Sweet story. sandie
What a sweet picture! There's just something special about grandparents and their grandkids. Love it. Great post.
Yet another idea to write - thanks. Loved this post. Juicy fruit gum is what I remember about my grandpa - he'd always have a stick of that gum for us when we came over.
My grandpa used to pat me on the head like a dog. Hard. It was all I could do to keep my neck from collapsing. He didn't realize he was so rough. It was his way of showing affection. He was a working man, a lead miner by day, and a hog farmer from 3:00 p.m. to dusk. He was the first grandparent I lost, and the one I knew the least.
Linda, this is such a sweet, endearing post...with such a profound message. You absolutely brought tears to my eyes. I too was lucky enough to have had wonderful grandparents, and their gifts of time and patience were as simple and as grand...as this post.
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