Spring Fever Day

 Time floats by.

 Nothing gets done.

Mom won’t be pleased,

No way,

No matter,

The blue, blue sky,

Quiet warm breeze,

The grass, the flowers,

The trees.

                        Her list,
                        Chores,
                        Consuming  

                        Each moment,

                        Til' night hid day. 

                        No time to play

                        She would say.

                                                 

Wrong!

Had a wonderful day,

Outdoors, sun, fun 

Friends came by, 
Now scurrying, 
Worrying,
Not sure 
What mom will do.

Thank God,

We only heard,

“I Love You.”

His Decision

“He left them, a wife and two children.”   The family that raised him was talking.  One evening he went to get milk for his household, for cereal the next morning and didn’t come back.

Unbelievable. 

The family he was raised with eventually curtailed their agony over what he had done.  They gave up on him coming back to his right mind, but knew where he had taken his physical self.   He was among the homeless in sunny California.  He was okay; but not all right, no doubt about that!

“When he gets old and frail he’ll expect us to take care of him.”    His sister declared that, forty years ago.

It’s been quite a story.

Someone should tell it, but no one will,” I thought.  “He’s a ‘nobody’.  In a culture of icons – political, entertainment, sports, historical, and even criminal icons, he wasn’t anything except a ‘nobody’.”

She said he was her brother. 

She loved him. 

He disgusted her. 

She felt sorry for him. 

His standards were not hers.

He was her brother.

His name is . . . well, she wouldn’t say.  Did offer he was a Scorpio child.  She is also, had just turned eleven years old when he was born. His dad and his mother are her parents as well. Yes, they are full-blooded siblings, always under the same roof until she went away to college.  He was 7 years old, almost eight.

He grew up to go to war, get married, have children, and buy a home – then deserted his family.  Who knew he was a closet loner?  

Selfish was what he was.  Yet, she found herself proud of him. He survived.
 

His odyssey came to a head two years ago.  

There is a story to tell, if for no other – perhaps, his grandchildren.

Thinking about Wil

If you were opening gifts with us last Christmas morning, you’d have known this yellow WVU coffee mug was my happiest surprise.

I would learn my grandson, Wil Dungey, had it when he came a week earlier for Christmas break from West Virginia University in Morgantown, WV.  I had no idea.  He had proudly shown his Mother, “I got Gem’s mug.”  She suggested he include it as one of his Christmas gifts.  Every moment before Christmas, Wil was his usual charming self, my lovable grandson; happy to rest/sleep, ready to eat, be off to the gym, enjoy TV, always tethered to his iPhone.  Never was there a hint he thought about the mug I had aggressively begged him to pick up for me since his second year on campus

I really wanted a mug from WVU.   I had several Howard University mugs his sister gifted me as she worked toward her graduation. I let him know I wanted at least one of WVU’s mugs to warmly grasp those mornings I sat with a cup of coffee and mused about the lives of all my grandchildren.   Guys aren’t girls though.  So I sort of pestered my favorite young man – to keep my wish on his mind.  

His third year on campus ended; he came home without the mug.  Mid-summer he returned to Morgantown and knowing time was running out, I sent him extra money and begged his attention toward picking up a mug for me at his campus store.  “It doesn’t have to be expensive, at all.  Not plastic though.”

Laughing, he promised, “I know.  I will Gem.”   

The mug wasn’t with him when he came for Fall Break.  He smiled sheepishly.  Although disappointed, I smiled also.  No doubt, he would remember to remember and I would have it for my birthday in early November.  Nope.

My father’s words from high school days came to me – his promise, “get your college degree and you won’t have to depend on anyone else for what you need.”  Well, I had earned my BS a long, long time ago.  And, I really needed that WVU mug hanging in my cabinet or warm in my hands.  So, I went online and ordered a WVU tablecloth and four WVU mugs.  My 2014 Thanksgiving table would be a WVU themed table in recognition of my grandson and his undergraduate college career winding down.  It would be a surprise.  Should he bring the mug home for Thanksgiving, I would still be thrilled.  I kind of expected that to happen.  It didn’t. 

Thanksgiving Dessert 

Of course, Wil, his sister, and their Mother were just as surprised as I had imagined they would be, seeing that unique table setting on Thanksgiving morning.  Too bad I can’t find all the pictures I took.  It was a fun, great time. 

For sure, though, nothing compared to my exuberant shock the next month on Christmas morning as I pulled Wil’s gift, the beautiful yellow mug, from its packaging.  Hearing him talk about telling his friends, “I’ve got to get my grandmother a WVU mug”, was very neat also.  It’s a very special mug, warns ‘’wash by hand”.  I love it.  "Thanks again, Wil.”

Wil Dungey III celebrated his 22^nd birthday this past week.     “Happy Birthday, Wil.  May you have a wonderful year.”