Aftermathing

Swing Time with Abuela

Tough day yesterday, at least the second half, after I was abandoned by both children as they surreptitiously went home to pursue their own lives. While this was expected and required – it didn’t make it any easier. The almost deafening silence following my granddaughter’s departure was the hard to take. I’m glad though that I wasn’t the only one exhausted by our time together. As I reported in yesterday’s blog the First Blog Reader was asleep before they were fully out of the confines of Worcester. They made it home to New Jersey quickly and the now awake granddaughter demanded a FaceTime call with us – so apparently we made a good impression.

Sound Asleep Five Minutes After Leaving

My wife took the senior Panamanians out for a drive past our old Charlton home and a Cracker Barrel lunch; shopping and food! She was a little depressed when she saw the state of her former gardens though; not everyone has her green thumb. I was left to my own devices for the first time in a long time so I launched into the next phase of my back hill project – the stairs. I was only in the concept phase as I used leftover blocks from the last terrace and experimented with a couple different looks before a frisky rain storm arrived and sent me scurrying for the Man Cave with its overladen DVR list.

First Two Stairs Complete

It was good that I was interrupted because when I went back outside following my wife’s return she decreed that I had to move the one step I had completed six inches to the right. The rain saved me from moving multiple steps. My wife’s uncle came out to help me as I finished up a second step before night fell. We then spent the evening watching movies in Spanish, first 007 and then Pearl Harbor which is appropriate given today’s Memorial Day holiday.

Growing up in the generation begotten by the survivors of World War 2, Memorial Day was a special holiday. There was not a single family that hadn’t been touched by that cataclysmic event. My father’s entire family served and a brother, Uncle Pete, was a marine killed at Guadalcanal. I remember Memorial Day as a bonding experience during that time as society remembered collectively the price paid to thwart tyranny. The overwrought issues today’s society face pale in comparison. So here’s to you Uncle Pete, or as he was officially known –  Private Norman S. Parker, 7th Marines, 1st Mar Division, killed In action October 15, 1942 - you are remembered.

Earlier last week I finished another book by the Master -  Stephen King, Gwendy’s Button Box, is really a novella but it held all of the Master’s usual flair even though he co-wrote it with another author. Gwendy is a young gal from Castle Rock, Maine who’s visited by a stranger as a young girl and entrusted with a mysterious box that turns her life around. We follow her through her decades long relationship with the box. It was a fascinating look at the delicate triggers in life, taking responsibility for yourself and dealing with tragedy because since this is Mr. King tragedy was certainly required for the heroine. Needless to say – I loved it and bow once again in the direction of Bangor, whoops I mean Derry, Maine.

Mom You Should Really Try This Ketchup thing