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| << March15, 2007 - Hearts and Humor - Puddle |
March26, 2007 - Hearts and Humor - The Ladder >> |
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Hey, Gang! I'm sorry for being late this week. Ginny and I spent Saturday afternoon and night at our friend Eileen's in Brooklyn. Brooklyn is a fun place to be on Saint Patty's Day. We had dinner at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. They served us a great Irish dinner. After dinner, we went to a Karaoke place. I tried several songs, but failed at most of them. Only one song works for me. I sang "What a Wonderful World" by Louie Armstrong. I nailed it. Some guy handed me $4.00 and told me to sing more. He didn't know it's the only song I can really do well. Ginny and I got home Sunday afternoon. I worked on this story late into the day. I'm not sure if it's right yet. Let me know what you think. The ending seems weak to me. Please give me your opinions. Mail me at msmith4@nj.rr.com If anyone is interested in greeting cards, Ginny belongs to a group of artists. They've teamed together to market their products. Check them out at: http://www.etsygreetings.blogspot.com Ginny's cards and other crafts are at: http://www.ginginsgoodies.etsy.com Now for today's story. A Mother's Love Mum's loving hands spread Vicks Vapor Rubİ on my chest. My white T-shirt hung over the open oven door of our oil stove. I coughed. "Mum, I can't breath." "This will help. Turn around." I did as I was told. Mum spread the vapor rub on my back. The scent began to work. My sinuses loosened. She lifted the T-shirt from the oven door. "Lift your arms." she said and pulled the shirt down over my head. The heated T-shirt warmed my feverish body. "It feels so good, Mum. Thank you!" "Let's get you to bed" she said and led me to the room I shared with my two brothers. She tucked me in and read "The Three Little Pigs." "Mum, can pigs really talk?" "It's just a story, Michael. Pigs can't talk." She pulled the blankets up to my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Try to sleep now. You'll feel better in the morning." **************************** "Romper, bomper, stomper boom. Tell me, tell me, tell me whom. Who do I see in my magic mirror today?" The lady on Romper Room asked. The sparkly stuff in the mirror cleared and I could see the Romper Room lady's face. "I see June and Larry, and Martha. Larry I hope you're being a good do-bee today. And I see Alice and little Mikey. Remember children, do be a do-bee and don't be a don't-bee." "Mum!" I croaked. "Mum, the lady on Romper Room saw me today!" Mum came into the room. "She saw you? That mirror must really be magic." She smiled and held her hand to my forehead. "You still feel warm. Are you hungry?" she asked. "Not really. My head hurts." "Do you want some chicken soup?" "I'll try, Mum. I'm scared I'll get sick again." I suffered through my second week with the mumps. Mum felt the sides of my throat. "You're still swollen. I don't think you'll get to school this week at all." "Mum, I'm tired of being sick. I'm falling behind in school too." "Jimmy said he would bring your homework." she said. "You asked him?" Jimmy was my neighbor and best friend at that time. "I saw him on his way to school and gave him a note for your teacher. I asked your teacher to give your homework to Jimmy." I settled back into the sofa. "Thanks, Mum." "You'll be better soon." she assured me and left to heat my soup. **************************** I clutched a nickel and ran the field. I was going to buy a bag of potato chips at the store and eat them while I watched "Bugs Bunny" on TV. I ran across a large rock, leaped into the air, and landed hard on both feet. There was a crunch. I looked down. My left foot rested on the jagged bottom of a broken bottle. I lifted my foot. The broken bottle stuck to the bottom of my heavy winter boot. I shook my foot, dislodged the glass, and sat. A two inch gash marred the arch of my new boot. I got scared. "Mum is going to be mad at me." I thought to myself. I pulled the boot off and found a hole in my sock too. There was no pain. I grabbed the edges of the hole in my sock with my fingers and opened it. Beneath the sock was a two-inch, red gash in my arch. I grabbed my boot and hopped on my good foot back to our house. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I hobbled up the steps, "Mum!" I screamed. "Mum, I cut my foot!" Mum sat me on a chair in our kitchen. As I cried, she removed my sock. Blood dripped to the floor. "Michael, we need to get you to the hospital. You need stitches." I cried harder. "Mum, I don't want stitches." "I know you don't, Michael, but this is a big cut. A Band-Aidİ can't fix it." "A big cut?" Big tears rolled down my cheeks. Dad helped me to the car. Mum sat behind me in the back seat. The hospital was twenty miles from our house. I stretched out on the back seat. To slow the bleeding, Mum propped my injured foot on the back of the seat. She stroked my hair. "You're going to be OK, Michael." "Be a big boy, son." Dad said from the driver's seat. "You'll be back on your feet in no time." **************************** Mum held my hand. The doctor pierced my flesh with a needle, threaded a stitch and pulled it tight. I screamed. "Mum! Mum, it hurts!" She held my hand tighter. "It will be over soon, Michael. Hold my hand and try to think of something nice." "I want Blackie!" Blackie was my dog. "You can see Blackie when we get home." **************************** "Mum!" I screamed, as I staggered up the front steps, holding a hand over my right eye. "Mum, I poked my eye out!" Mum, her face was white with fear, burst through the front door. "Mum, I poked my eye out!" I repeated. Mum dropped to her knees in front of me. "Let me see." she said and reached a trembling hand toward the hand I held over, what I knew was, an empty eye socket. I turned away from her. "Mum, don't look." "Michael, I have to look." She took my hand and slowly pulled it from my eye, fearful at what she'd see. Tears streaked my cheeks and a trail of mucus covered my upper lip. "For goodness sake, Michael, you just have a little scratch under your eye." She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her bosom. "You scared me half to death." "My eye's still there?" "Yes, your eye is still there." **************************** "He needs to talk to you." The nurse said and left us alone. My wife, Georgia, was still. The room was silent except for the machines keeping her alive. I paced the room, waiting for the doctor to come. It was obvious. The machines had to be silenced. Georgia's journey on this world would end. I continued to pace and wished for Mum's comfort. I wanted her arms around me - her words, "Michael, it's going to be OK." A year later, I held a new wife in my arms. We'd just said our vows in front of a "Justice of The Peace." I wanted Mum to see me happy again - her hugs and blessings. **************************** Mum is nine hundred miles away, but she's my inspiration and strength. She couldn't hold me when Georgia died or when I married Ginny, but she was with me in spirit. Through the phone, her strength and love supported me. Nothing can stop a mother's love. Michael T. Smith Now for comments from last week: "PUDDLE" reminded me of a cross country trip that my husband and I took several years ago, before he went to Heaven. I don't remember how many rolls of film I had used when he asked,"Honey, are you supposed to take that cap off of the front of the camera"? MEMMORIES, I love,em. Keep writing, Vonda ************************** From my other mom, Liz. She know me and writes to me about the Puddle splashing through the window and into my face. And knowing you, you probably laughed! Liz She was right. I did laugh ************************ I love you, but if you feel you need to leave our family, here is the link to sign off. http://www.zinester.com/cgi/unsub.cgi?86758&0& |
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