Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Is hanging on by my toes
Considering some of my friends need some humor this holiday season, I'd like to contribute a story from my daddy's red-necked past.
My daddy's mom was the meekest person I have ever known on the face of the planet. Had I not known grandma I would not know what meek meant. How she remained meek while raising 3 knot-headed, red-necked, trouble-making boys, I'll never know. My grandma was vertically challenged and portly, maybe even fluffy, but she was always so neat and clean. Daddy was a skinny, gangly runt with his dark hair slicked back.
Now when my daddy was in high school his daddy gave him an old, Nash Rambler. Nothing like the one pictured here. Because by old, I mean a rust-bucket that would back-fire. As a matter of fact, the brakes had to be pumped over and over, and he had to pray they would stop in time. It was old when daddy got it, but it didn't get any better. In order to open the door to this jewel, daddy had to put his foot on the car to yank open the door. When the person was seated, he would have to rare back and slam it shut, but that didn't mean it stayed shut. (Must not have had duct tape back then.)
One day when daddy was a junior or senior in high school, he went to pick up grandma from her sister's house. He yanked the door open, got grandma settled and slammed the door. Once in the driver's position, he told grandma whatever she did "DON'T LEAN ON THE DOOR." With that being said, he backed out of the driveway and began driving home. He made a right turn off the street which was perfectly fine because his elbow was hooked on the arm rest, so it wouldn't fly open. Then he made a left turn. After completing the turn, he looked over at grandma and SHE WAS GONE! Her feet were hooked under the dash and her torso was hanging out of the car. He pulled over and laughing he helped her up reminding her not to lean on the door. Her rolled hair and make-up nicely applied was a mere memory for the brief spin had sense waves of wind through her freshly curled hair. She did not see the humor in any of it whatsoever, but of course, daddy did. To hear him tell it you would have tears running down your face.
I don't know about you, but this season, I've been holding on by my toes. I didn't plan anything extra. I turned things down, and yet life still about ran me over. The unpredictable happens. The predictable happens. Life happens. I challenge you to find the humor. Sometimes it's harder than others, but search for those pearls. Maybe you need to make a phone call to a friend you haven't seen in a long time and start telling about the funny things you did in your youth or maybe it's calling a storyteller who you know will get you to laughing in no time. I find when I laugh it relieves the weight on my shoulders even if it is momentary.
Grandma is in heaven this Christmas. If she doesn't get sainthood (and we aren't Catholic), then I don't know who qualifies!
I wish you all a Merry Christmas.