Skip to main content

The Diplomat

     Hey, everyone. The other day, something triggered a memory of a really odd happening in my life. Many years ago, I was working at a plant that was situated in a rural, residential area. One house was very close, just on the other side of a fence, and an elderly couple lived there.
    This couple was in their eighties and were very feeble. They barely managed to get around and their relatives lived in another state. They were independent and just desired to live alone as long as possible.
     Unfortunately, sometimes the man's wife would fall and of course the elderly gentleman was unable to pick her up. He'd call the plant and whoever was on duty would go over and carry her to bed, to the couch, or wherever she wanted to go.
    They had been in the diplomatic corps for many, many years. They were the sweetest, most gracious people I've ever been around. Even now I can see her in my mind's eye; I can see her smiling face when I'd kneel to pick her up. She was as light as a feather, it seemed. Laughing a little at her own feebleness, always so kind and happy, the two of them still very much in love after 60 years of marriage.
     These folks had dedicated their entire lives to peace, seeking it in many foreign lands. And my goodness, how the aura of peace lay like a mantle on that home!
     They eventually did have to move to an assisted living facility and both died, years ago. Even now, when I think of them, it brings a smile to my face... and perhaps a tear, too.
     I am socially inept. I wish that I could have assimilated some of their gift and brought it home, to the author's green retreat.
    I'm CE Wills.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egg Art

     Hey, everyone. One of the odd customs in America is the Easter Egg Hunt. Here at the Green Retreat, we do a hunt every Spring. I just ran across some of the pictures from this years hunt and it is obvious that an artist had sneaked into our midst. The orange egg is a rendering of one of the Angry Birds of gaming lore. If I were a bird and had to pass an egg that size, I would be angry too. Ha, ha.      We typically will dye about 10 dozen eggs and people get quite creative with their quotes and colors, as you can see. Many of the eggs are a bit risque for these pages. After having a few laughs, we hide the eggs. All of them are never found, which is cool. It is amusing to see old men (me) and all ages of folks, walking around with a basket on their arm. Some of the hiding spots are dastardly. Like eggs hidden in the guttering downspouts and ten foot up a tree. The kids are perhaps the most devious at hiding the colorful orbs, goi...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Biscuit

    Hey, everyone. What a relief that Christmas is over, huh? I don't think it was meant to be the way it is.     I started thinking about the so-called good 'ole days today. My wife says that at her house, they would take a left-over biscuit and shine their shoes before church. I one-upped her by saying, "Oh, yeah? I ate the biscuit when everyone got finished with it. And I was grateful for it." Truly, though, you can and people did, shine their shoes with a biscuit. Hey, they were greasy little buggers.     Speaking of greasy little buggers, I remember when everyone had wells and were very conservative about water, particularly those of us who had to crank a handle up and down to get a bucket of water. There was no daily bath. (No showers in those days, mate.) About twice a week we took a bath and here's the recipe: The oldest kid took a bath first, then the next oldest etc. You can see why younger siblings hated the older. Bathing in the...
Post a Comment
Read more