His Smile

September 14, 2014

They had been in the office for quite a while. She sat at the old coffee table with her purse resting against the leg beside her while she carefully and methodically folded the edges one way and then the other before tearing them off of the printer paper. She knew that this job belonged to her as long as she wanted it. She was glad to be in here with him. Every now and then she would stop what she was doing just to look up at him. She could only see the side of his face because he was looking at his computer screen. He had a look of concentration and he seemed to be pushing the same button over and over again. The machine was big and she didn't have a clue as to what he was doing. She just loved being with him.

All of a sudden, he turned toward her with his hands on his knees and asked if she had finished her work. He announced that it was time for another job. They closed the door on the office and headed down the hall. He stopped at the closet and she waited beside him to see what he would pull out this time. Excitement washed over her when he turned around with a single white paper plate. He didn't have to tell her what it was for. She knew.

They headed down the stairs and stopped by the front door to lace up their shoes before going outside. She ran ahead of him to the small grove of trees that she thought of as "her" forest. They chose the best leaves and acorns and even a few of the spiney balls that always fascinated her. She continued searching and he puttered around the yard. She didn't mind that he had left her to choose the rest of the pieces by herself. She would look for something really pretty to surprise him.

When she was finished, she used both hands to carry her treasures over to the front porch where he had settled into a lawn chair. He helped her up into his lap and they looked at each one. With the patience of an old man who recognized the wonder of youth, he listened as she talked about why she chose the pieces that she had in her hands. This was her favorite part.

Later they would head into the house and he would help her get started with the process of attaching them to the plate with Elmer's glue. They would sit at the table and he would read the paper while he waited for her to finish. When the glue was dry enough, he would take the nature plate and hang it with the others in the office on the closet door. They would stand and admire the plates and talk about what made each one special.

She would look up at him and he would look down at her and the smile on his face would stay with her forever. She would never forget the way that smile made her feel. He smiled more with his eyes than any other part of his face. It communicated deep joy and pride and safety. His smile held so many words and she heard every one of them...

But right now they were sitting on the porch having a conversation that didn't have to end. She knew these moments were special, but it wasn't until many years later that she really understood why.

* * *

Although this piece may read like fiction,  it's true.

It's  my story  and it's about a smile that

I've loved  as long as I can remember.

You can read another one like it HERE.

I am also writing over at The Quiet Place Blog today, so go say hello over THERE! :) 

Her Favorite Kind of Forever

July 23, 2014

It was still dark when she woke up. She looked over and found that he was gone, just as she suspected that he would be. She walked out to the couch and curled up there to wait for him.

Time passed and she woke to the sound of the front door opening as he let himself back into the house. She waited while he set down his gear and made his way up the stairs. It was all she could do to keep herself from running to him. As soon as he saw her, his eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face. He knew.

She looked up at him with one simple request, "Can we make some farina, Ghiddu?"

As quietly as they could, they went into the kitchen and started getting everything out. She wrestled the step stool over to the stove while he got out the pot, a wooden spoon, milk, and of course, the farina. She watched as he carefully measured and poured and stirred and then came the moment she was waiting for...

"Okay, watch the clock. The hand will go around two times and then we eat!" He had taught her how to watch the hand and those instructions were her favorite part of their farina making.

As she stood beside him on the stool and watched the hand go around the clock, time stood still. It seemed to take forever for the hand to go around two whole times. Those quiet morning minutes were some of her favorite. In fact, they were her favorite kind of forever...

* * * 

That little story up there is true. It's my story and the story of my favorite kind of forever. My Ghiddu (Arabic for "grandfather") died just after I turned eight. I miss him terribly and I cherish the memories that we made together.

A few weeks ago, my Mom and I were dropping my siblings off at their drama camp which happened to be at a community athletic complex. We saw all kinds of people coming and going. One morning, an old man followed us out. I smiled really big and said hello to him. 

My Mom said, "What was that about??!?! Greeting the creepers now, huh?" 

I laughed and replied, "Umm...He wasn't a creeper! In fact..." And then I realized that he had a racquet. I said, "Didn't you see his racquet? He just finished some racquetball and now he's headed home to fix his grandaughter...." and the sentence was choked out by tears.

A strange old man with a racquetball racquet made me bawl at nine o'clock in the morning just because he walked by. 

My Mom started laughing, "Oh, great. Now she's crying!"

As we're walking through the parking lot and I'm trying to get myself together, I glance over at the pool area. I saw nothing other than another old man. This one was wearing some tiny little speedo shorts. And then you know what I did? True to my Grandma's fashion, with tears running down my face, I busted up laughing. 

A strange old man prancing around in tiny speedo shorts turned my crying into laughter. 

I cried. I laughed. And I cried some more because both my Grandma and my Ghiddu are gone and so many things remind me of them. 

And you know what?

I'm glad. 

When I posted THIS POST, Kiki asked me to tell the story. Thank you, Kiki! :)