Fandango’s Story Starter #22

Fandango’s story teaser today was too delicious to not participate. It could go in so many directions. Because it is the “season” for me, I chose to go there. Hope you enjoy.

The Garden Shed

Samantha leaned against her car and stared at her Grandpa’s house. The love and life that once oozed from this building brought life to any child; especially at this time of year, Christmas. She had not been back to visit the house since he passed five years ago. What would be the point. He was gone. He had turned the house over to the city to be used as a museum and library for children. Her brother Gerald was in charge and the place looked great. The large rolling lawn was decorated for the season and a smile creased her saddened face.

“Sure do miss you, Grandpa.”

“Samantha,” called a voice from the front porch.

“Hey, Gerald. Merry Christmas.”

“Its been awhile since you came by. You ought to come see the new children’s wing. It would have made Grandpa James proud.”

“Maybe later. I just came by to walk the grounds. Is the garden shed still in the back?”

“Yes. But it’s not used. We turned the large two car garage into the new garden center. Its where we have some planting seminars and during Christmas, we have crafts. I know it was special to you but too small for what we wanted to do. But it’s still intact. We air it out each spring and place fresh cut flowers on his desk for the spring tours of the gardens. Come by inside when you are done.”

As Samantha came around the side of the house, she saw the beautiful gardens. Christmas trees had been scattered about and were fully decorated. Behind them was the small but adequate garden shed. Her memories went back to the summers of laughing and playing in the dirt with Grandpa James. Such a magical time.

The windows of the shed were dusty and hard to see through so she opened the door to see in side. The door creaked a bit and drug its bottom across the wooden planked floor. She saw no sign of life in the room except the smell of her grandfather’s tobacco filled the room. He smoked a pipe with a very distinct brand and she loved smelling it as she snuggled close when small.

“How in the world can that fragrance still be so strong,” she mumbled as she walked over to his desk. Everything was exactly as he had left it. His ratty old note pad laid open with a pencil laying across it and someone had written on it. Her initial thought was anger that someone had used it but then she read the note and recognized his hand writing.”

“I will always be close to you.”

“Hey,” said Gerald as he entered the shed realizing he startled her. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted you to know we have hot chocolate with peppermint sticks. I know its your favorite.”

“Oh, its okay. I was just down memory lane. When did you find his notepad?”

“His notepad? What are you talking about?”

“This. Do you not recognize it?”

“No, sorry. I don’t. As far as I know, there was nothing in here. Where was it?”

“Right here on his desk. Right where he always had it. Do you mind if I keep it?”

“No. Does it have anything in it?”

“Not really. How does his tobacco smell stay so strong when you air this out in the spring?”

“You smell his tobacco?”

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Interesting,” she said as she walked past him out of the shed.

“Hot Chocolate?” he asked closing the door behind him.

“Sure.”

Fandango’s Story Starter #14

Fandango has a fun story starter this week as I immediately went into Halloween mode, after all, it is October. Come join in with your imagination on this fun Story Starter and let your creative juices flow.

I heard the music as I entered the room, but all that was there…

The storm had been relentless last night and this muddy mess did not help in getting up the driveway to the house.

“Why am I being drawn back to Grandma’s house? She has been gone for over three years.”

Her mom had told her that everything in the house had been sold but her old broken piano. They would dispose of it when the house sold. She thought back to the summers she spent there. The laughter…the music. This was why she studied music. She so wanted to be the pianist her grandmother had been but the talent seemed to have eluded her so she taught instead. But many people loved her playing and her teaching was highly sought after. So she stayed in the background away from the dreams of being onstage. As she pulled up in front of the house, the sun began breaking through the clouds. The ‘For Sale’ sign loomed ominously sideways from the storm. The thought of someone else living here made her sad. Taking her keys, she open the door to the empty mustiness that was far from the memories of the bright sunny days she remember so well. The sun was streaming with split rays through the dusty living room windows. The light caught an object leaning against the wall and made Jessica smile. Her walking stick was still leaning in the corner. She could not believe it was still around. She walked over and picked it up, studying her name that her grandfather had carved. She remember fondly the great adventures from the back yard. He had a small apple orchard in the back but to a small child it was huge. She walked over to the sunroom and stood in the doorway remembering the beautiful music her grandmother would play as she and Grandpa would explore the vast outdoors. The piano leaned crookedly against the wall as one leg was completely broken off. Then she remembered the music again…no wait…she is hearing it.

“I heard the music as I entered the room, but all that was there was the broken piano against the wall,” she explained later to her mom when she told her about her visit. She told her of the whispers she heard about not giving up on her dream, that her talent was there and of other things only her grandmother knew. She was shaken but renewed and peaceful as well.

“It may have been a dream or some sort of hallucination of remembered love but it was more real than I have know in some years,” Jessica explained.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” her mom asked hoping that whatever this was, it would be enough to help her get over her stage fright and weak self-esteem. She knew the local symphony was searching for a new pianist and that in her mind she thought her daughter would be perfect for it. Of course she was prejudiced as this was her only daughter of 3 other children.

“I don’t know,” said Jessica, “but I think I owe it to Grandma to not give up just because of some bad experience from college. Oh, and I found my walking stick that Granpa made for me.”

“Maybe that will help you walk a different path. Not to pressure you, but the Symphony still has not found a pianist.”

“I dunno, mom. That’s an awful big step. That’s like trying to win the Olympics without training.”

“You train every day, Jessica. What have you got to lose?”

“I will think about it.”

In all of life we face challenges that can either enhance or thwart our dreams. If our dreams are not fully attainable, we must never lose the love those dreams gave us. Use that love to make another dream. That dream may be better than your original dream. And with all paths in all our dreams, remember to be kind. Kindness can make dreams for others come true.

Grandparent, An Honorable Position

grandparents

The fun and joy of being a grandparent should never be taken lightly. Families who hold to the bonds of family love through the rough times are the families who survive the whimsical nonsense of the coming generations. It shows them the importance as they grow that those with strong values of family, memories and grandparents helps the entire family stand firm.

I never really knew my fathers parents as he was the youngest of a large family and I was the youngest of our four, so by the time I was old enough to understand grandparents, they were both gone. But I did enjoy many fun memories with my mother’s parents. My grandfather was a farmer & a gasoline truck driver. And my grandmother was a school teacher. She was well loved by many through her years of teaching and I wrote a post about her in December if anyone cares to read that one as well. I remember the funny stories she and Buckshot(my grandfather’s nickname) would tell us about our cousins that I had never met who had other interesting nicknames like “Catgal”. I would love to know the stories behind the many funny nicknames of my ancestors.

Below are the pictures of both of my grandmothers, maybe later I will do a post on my grandfathers.

The is Lottie with Brownie, per pride and joy.

Some families do not have the luxury of sharing the memories of their ancestors. Some families who do not have that loving relationship or members who can’t feel that love from their family members are families that tend to disintegrate and scatter away from each other. It is a very sad phenomenon that I saw happen in my own family with my siblings from strained relationships or actions that can shatter a family. I also have this same type of disconnect with my own children where their relationships were severely strained as children and then as as young adults, my work scattered us 1000 miles from each other not allowing for a reconnect. I have grandchildren I have never held while the older ones have no real clue who I am other than a vague memory. It is a terrible thing to happen to a family. As my youngest told me, we never felt like we were a family due to all the disconnects, anger and frustrations we had. It ever reminds me just how fragile this life can be. But I am trying to fix that and hope that by year end, all strained relationships can at least be on the road to being mended.

This week Nancy Merrill challenged us with a photo of the week as grandparents. It rang true with me as I am trying to get better reconnected with my boys.

So I challenge all who read this to understand the values of all members of the family and to make all efforts to maintain as much of that family bond as possible and to make a connection whenever possible. Even those who fight it, they really don’t want to be left out in the cold. So try to reach out.

And in closing as I remind my readers – try to always be kind. It reflects the very love of God.