lleno circulo

There are inevitable events which cause you to contemplate the very
real purpose in all of the menageries and hodgepodge of life.
I am reminded of these events as I approach my 46th birthday, this year
on Fathers day, and I had the sudden impulse to take the toy dachshund
off the top shelf where it resides in my bedroom, and go and show it to
my Mom, who is visiting for the night. I remind her that I received it
as a gift from her on my 11th birthday and that he will be 35 years old
in a few days. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, for she is
touched by the ravages of time, when years grant you only happier
memories, she recollects and says matter of factly, Yes, I remember that.

I am reminded when she slips as she holds my face in her hands
and says, How is my Daddy?, and when I don't respond, a sadness comes
in her eyes as if she realizes her mistake, and she looks away.
I am thankful that I am here for my children, to watch them grow and mature,
and I know that I will not be here always, as it will be their turn to
teach their children, for this is the circle of life.

I miss my Dad, and wish that he could be here to help me guide my boys as only
Grandpas can do, but it was not his choice to go, so he passed the
mantle to me, and I will do my best to make fine fathers of my young
men, and yet, I regret the loss of some years when I did not fully
understand the responsibility that I was left with.

I have gleaned much from my Dad, taking little pieces of his life, and applying it in
my own, whether consciously or not. The man I first feared, then loved,
then later learned to admire his talents and his wisdom, which even
now, seem beyond his years. If only, as my children take small pieces
of my life, they will be as applicable for them. These pieces I give
freely in hopes that they may live. The strain in my back that keeps
recurring since I climbed a tree to help my oldest earn a few dollars
on a limb removal job which was more challenging than he first
perceived. The concern in my mind when I acknowledge that my middle
child is not as mechanically inclined as his brothers, yet I take
comfort in his passion for the outdoors and landscaping and his love of
animals. The ache in my forearm which sometimes wakes me in the night
comes from throwing fastballs to my youngest, to help him become a more
confident player. These pieces of myself I give freely and will give
many more until I must reluctantly pass the mantle on, for this is my circle.
 
I can again recall my Dad in his last months as he painted
my 'new' house and as he came to dine with me at my job because I
seemed so proud of my endeavors. I later found out that he was unable
to digest the meal without much pain due to the damages from the
radiation therapy he was receiving. And, as my Mama goes with us to the
ballpark to watch her grandson play, and to share in our enjoyment, her
discomfort with the bleachers and the insects are sometimes visible,
yet she is happy, she is giving.

I can see my brothers and sisters and their children in my minds eye,
as they give out little pieces of themselves, unselfishly, and I smile.

I have been left to assist my Mama and I am standing outside of the unlatched and slightly
ajar door to the ladies room because the lock is tricky and may lock her in.
There are people with stares, there are funny looks, and just as an
official comes back for a second time to look at me, my Mama rescues me
by latching her elbow in mine, she is ready to go.
And now, you see, we have come full circle. byron c