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"The Wondering Jew"

Jun. 27, 2005 - 20:56 MDT

GRAVY TIME

This is the entry I had in mind for last night. I sat at the keyboard to write it, and woke up at 1:30AM too fuzzy to continue.

Life went on for me much like it does for most people, work, illness, troubles and much fun and enjoyment too. We were busy raising kids from 1944 through 1981.

About that time our baby girl started at the University of Colorado at Boulder. While she was there, life was still frantic with me. Trying to work a job, help run a flower shop, and spend most of my spare time commuting with a little sleep time in between.

While she was in school she met the man she would marry, eventually they married.

Fast forward through some bad days for me and my eventual retirement.

All through having and raising kids, I spent as much time with our kids as I could, working two jobs most of the time. But after retirement things changed for the better, far, far better.

Suddenly I had time, much time, to spare. Heather and I were able to spend much more time with kids and grandkids than ever before. After Milady retired and we sold our house, moving into an apartment we were then able to travel to Eugene, Oregon where daughter and her hubby live.

It was possible for me to spend more time with her son, our grandson, than with any of our other grand people. The birth of his sister was attended by Heather and I.

While the littles were growing, daughter had projects for me to do for her. Her hubby is not mechanically inclined, not part of a professor's job description in most venues. So I was able to help her get her house pretty well straightened away how she wanted it.

She had, in the summers here at home, worked retail and worked retail in Eugene before her kids arrived. She learned a lot more about things than a lot of folks do while on the job.

So it began in their old house. She knew exactly what she needed and we found the stuff and her closets became multishelved with room for everything. Clothes rod at one end. One summer I built a wooden toy box for Grandson, a labor of love, it was. Quite plain, but sturdy.

Then they moved into their new house a few years down the road and I was able to put shelves into the closets in their new house. Sort of had the routine down pat by then.

It was real neat for a few years, always when Heather and I made the scene in Eugene there would be a basket of stuff of the kids that needed repair -- or so they hoped. I was lucky, if it wasn't fixable they would accept my word and not be sad.

Not too long after I had done most all things that she wanted done our auto accident happened and I've not been able to do those things any longer. Stength and eye hand coordination begin to fail with age, and a heart complication with the need for oxygen made things hard to do. Yet, when we get there there is that everpresent basket of things to fix. Bygawd, I just can't do IPOD and stuff like that.

We have spent so much more time with those two than with any of our other grandchildren. Makes me regret, but can't back up and take another shot at it. We are making up for it now by spoiling the heck out of our great-grandchildren.

For the last few years my life has been so ideal for me, I was able to help get daughter situated the way she wanted to be, still fix toys and stuff there, was able to go through the model building stage and boy scout project stage with grandson. Now he towers above me like his father does. How lucky can a guy get ? I am absolutely living on GRAVY TIME . . . . . . .

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