So life begins…. I relate this to my son as we, two, drove to the hospital knowing we would be, three, coming home. What an awesome thought, I said to myself. Did I fasten the car seat correctly, as inexperienced as I was then. Of course, there’s a schedule which is hard to keep – up all night! I need to sleep! I’ve got to go to work when morning arrives.
Buying clothes for a newborn isn’t a treat. I want to brag about my baby boy and I darn sure don’t want him dressed in pink! Oh! The problems you encounter as life begins; you’re passed from one to another to see which one can make you quit crying.
Months go by and you’re taught to talk. “Mama” “Dada”. “NO!!” – that’s your first word. Then you’re off, like Shepards’s first walk on the moon, only out of a microphone. “NO!”, again, “don’t touch that…”! What a life! An inquisitive little creature of God, destroyed by negativity that comes from a parent’s mouth. Poor little guy tried and tried but freedom came at a dear price as direction follows after your loss. I could so relate! The altercations that proceeded left little to question. To disobey was my only option, but, the penalties for perjury were contained in my pants. As I was informed, “You won’t sit for a week!” What a quagmire we must face!
Time goes on and we try to grow up dealing with the problems of the twentieth century: POTC, (a class we must pass, if you want to graduate); sports, dates, and who to take to next week’s dance; the car needs gas; who’s lawn can I mow to make a couple of bucks; my homework is late – “you need to buckle down,” Dad says.
Now – my new bride is pregnant and life repeats itself. Which grandmother gets to hold you first; who’s house do we take you to; and the pressure mounts. Holidays, oh my, I’m so tired….
There in a wink of an eye, life is gone; you sit on your duff and wonder what in the world you’re gonna do now – a new horizon, another quagmire, social security…..need I say more?? Move to the South, maybe, ’cause nobody retires to the North. But I guess I’ll stay out here in the West, where life is a beach, or so the sign says.
The air refreshes with the passing storms and now my seat is wet. I have to change! What must I wear?? Depends?? I thought I’d retire but my mind runs full steam ahead like an old locomotive. The wheels are turning and I smell smoke! Throw another log onto the fire – oh wait – that’s if you’re cold, another scenario, not for June. Life is so darn complicated! I can’t even decide which shoes to wear as my feet are wet from being outside! Should I go inside?? Maybe I should. I don’t know!!….