|
Another family pass-time of ours was to attend every picnic or family event that was available to us. This gave us an opportunity to socialize and bond with all of our children. It was a hot humid summer day and we attended Bill’s company’s picnic. Our youngest daughter kept asking to go on an Indian swing. Finally, Bill conceded and decided to go with several of our children.
He was needed in order to pull them so they could ride the swing. He ran around and played with them for about half an hour or more. When the children had enough of the swing, they all jumped off and headed for the pavilion under which I sat waiting for them. I saw my oldest, then my youngest daughter running by. Several minutes passed by and Bill did not return. I called the children and asked them for their dad. We do not know where he is, was the response.
“How could you not know?” I probed. “He was playing with you.” The oldest child looked over in the direction of the Indian swing.
“There he is sitting under that tree with Lee.” I saw them but some how I sensed that something was wrong. I got up and started to walk in their direction. As I approached, Lee stood up.
“I tried to wake him up,” she said. “I tried but I just could not.”
I could see his chest moving but his tongue was hanging out his mouth. I placed my hand on his shoulders and shook him.
“Bill, are you ok?” His eyes fluttered opened. He had a rather confused look on his face.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You tell me”, I replied.
“Well, I was swinging the children and the next thing I knew, I was very exhausted, so I came and sat here.”
He had a history of high blood pressure and had not taken his medication that morning. The heat and all of the running and playing with the children proved to be a bit much for him that day.
So this weekend, as Bill, Lee and I walked towards the horse stable; I slowly turned my head and looked over at her. She was the only one of our seven children who chose to accompany us. All the memories of this child filled my head. I remembered Bill words.
“Why is her tongue hanging out her head?” I pondered; she was the only one who sat rubbing his head.
“You are running too slowly Lee.” Yet it was only her who had a medal, not one of the children I would have expected instead.
Through my personal experience with my seven children, I’ve learned to cherish the simple things that may seem unimportant. Lee does many things very well and most of all she gives a radiant smile that I very often need.
|
Tags
You must be logged in to add tags.
|
Writer Profile
Ruth Garnes
Ruth Andrews Garnes: born in Belize the second of six children. She moved to New York City at age eighteen. After studying nursing she worked as an emergency room nurse. Currently resides with her husband and seven children in the Houston Texas area. Having always had a heart for hurting children her writings are to give voice to them.
When all is forgotten or ignored, expressive words linger or get heard. It is important for the hurt and wounded to have a voice, for this purpose, I write.
|
Comments
You must be a TakingITGlobal member to post a comment. Sign up for free or login.
|
|
