I love you!

When I say I love you, you must know that I also love ice cream and cake,  coffee, roses, a walk in the park and any number of things.  I love the preacher.  I love my dog and my cat. I love the soft rain on my face. You are not my exclusive love.  God did not put me on this earth for you alone, he put me here to brighten all the dark corners, to feed the hungry and to play with the children and the puppies.

I have had occasion to meet a complete stranger on the street and stand on the sidewalk talking for almost an hour about everything and nothing.  I have had lunch with someone I have known for 7 minutes and bared my soul to my fellow traveler and then walked away without even learning his name.  Two ships in the night.

Love is like a ring; it has no beginning and no end.

If you catch a butterfly and touch it's wings, it can not fly away.  I was your butterfly, but my wings remained untouched and I flew away.

A wise woman once told me "Love is not love until you give it away."  I have spent my life trying to give it all away and it just keeps coming back! A never ending circle.

If I love you, do not be afraid for it is all good and pure.

And if you love me, I will treasure it in my heart, I will nurture it, and when the time is right I will set it free!

Vincent's sand pit down the back road.

Back in my growing up days in Nickerson, it was hot!  Damned hot as a matter of fact.  And the humidity was high, which did not help at all.  Colorado is dry.  In Colorado I can shower and hang my towel on the hook and it will be dry in just a couple hours.  Not so in Kansas.  Not only was the towel still damp the next day, but it was starting to have a sour smell.  By day 3 it was mildewed.  Nasty stuff.

To survive the heat, we wore a minimum of clothes and tried to stay in the shade of a tree.  Being in the house was not much better, because air conditioning was pretty much non-existent.  Nickerson had no swimming pool as I recall and if they did we would not have been able to afford it.  So we were left with the Arkansas River, Cow Creek, Bull Creek and Vincent's Sand Pit.  Mummy's had a sand pit on the other end of town, but we were not allowed in there.  It was a functioning business and Vincent's was not.  And Vincent's was within walking distance.  Hey!  I just remembered, there was a sand pit about 3 blocks from the house.  I do not recall whether it was a working pit or not, but it seems way back in my little mind that the owners child had fallen in and drowned, so it was not open any more.  (This may or may not be true because my 70 years prior memories tend to become rather distorted.)

Back to Vincent's Sand Pit.  I have been deathly afraid of water my entire life.  I do not know why, only that I was and still am.  (I did go many years back to the YWCA heated pool and took swimming lessons so if I were to fall in I would know to roll over and relax and float until some friendly passerby could rescue me.  Hopefully!)  Consequently, I did not swim in the sand pit and to my clearest memory, I only visited it once.  It seems it was about a mile or so from the house and beyond the cemetery.  I recall running barefoot down the road which was very sandy and the sand was very hot!  Jake rode his bike and I ran behind.

Vincent's Sand Pit was also a favorite fishing spot.  It must be a lot like Beemer Lake in Lakin, Kansas.  Usually the fishermen came later in the day or very early in the morning.  Fish rarely bite in the heat of the day.  We had a pint jar half full with water and a pop bottle suspended upside down so the opening just touched the water.  When the water was sucked up it the neck of the bottle, it meant the fish were biting.  If it was not raised, you might as well stay home.  When I married Kenneth we fished a lot, so I set one of those on the window sill in the kitchen.  When he asked me what that was for, I told him.  It was then I learned that it was actually a crude barometer and I could save myself a lot of watchin if I just walked over and looked at the barometer on the wall!  Duh!

As we set here, gripped in a heat wave, I flash back to the early days in Nickerson and thank the good Lord for central air.  Nickerson was home for all my formative years, but as much as I yearn for those carefree days, I do certainly enjoy the convenience of running water, electricity, inside plumbing, and central air.

So I live vicariously in my childhood memories.  I set in my 72 degree house while the sun beats down outside on the thermometer now reading 101.  I miss the days of sand pits and sand hill plums, and I thank the man upstairs for giving me a childhood that can make me empathetic to the people I serve today.  There is not a night that I do not lay in my bed and count my blessings, and growing up in Nickerson, Kansas has made me the woman I am today and for that  I thank God!  

Mother, Aunt Helen, Werthers Originals , and a very high curb!

My mother died when she was 80.  At the time she was living with my sister, Dorothy.  Dorothy has since joined Mother on the other side, but prior to that Mother lived in a small 1 bedroom apartment on 15th Circle near my sister Donna.  Lordie!  that was a long time ago.  I managed to travel from Pueblo to Huchinson 3 or 4 times a year. I would spend a few days and then back to Colorado.

Now let me elaborate on the title of this missive.  I am not sure exactly how Aunt Helen was my Aunt and not even sure she was.  I do know that Aunt Helen and Uncle Skinny had been in my life when I was in first or second grade in Nickerson.  They were very rich.  Aunt Helen gave me my first and only store bought dress.  It was gray/green over glaze cotton with a white collar and a string tie around the neck with 2 daisies on the ends of the tie.  I wore it until I could no longer get it on.  They also gave me a brownie uniform and paid my dues for one year.  That was a waste of money, because I sure did not fit in with those girls and I only attended one or 2 meetings.  Mother gave the uniform to some one who gave it to someone who would wear it and attend meetings. The gray/green dress ended up in a rag rug.  But I digress.

When I would go to visit mother it was a big deal that my Aunt Helen looked forward to with anticipation.  Uncle Skinny had died by then and Aunt Helen was now alone since they had never had children.  They did have a niece named Paralee who was a school teacher.  She was married and had a daughter and maybe other kids.  To the best of my knowledge Paralee was my cousin.  Or mother's cousin.  Or some shirttail relation anyway.

Back to Aunt Helen.  She visited mother several times a year.  She did not like to drive the "damn big boat of a Cadillac", and for the most part, did not need to leave home.  Ah, but a visit to Christine was something she would drive for.  And when she arrived she would produce from her enormous purse, a bag of Werther Original Caramels.  No other kind would do!  It was those or nothing and be hell and damned that she would arrive for a visit empty handed.  Hell and High water would not stop her from bringing those every time she came.  And she would not leave until every one of them had been eaten.

On one of my later visits, she was late arriving.  Where could she be?  Mother thought she might have became confused and sent Donna  ( I think it was Donna) and I out to the parking area in front of the condominiums  to see if she had gotten "confused".  It just was not like her to be late and she was now over 90 years old and had been known to get a little confused when in a strange area.  She was not in front of the area mother had been designated as hers.  We started up the street and were soon rewarded with the sight of the big green and cream Cadillac coming out of one of the parking areas up the street.  As we watched, it got back on the street and proceeded to turn into another parking lot, or at least attempt to turn in.  She was trying to turn left between the entrance and the exit.  Sadly the curb was in the way.  As she backed up to make another charge at it, she seen us and immediately turned the car in our direction.  Donna and I, fearing for our lives, made a run into mothers parking lot, with her hot on our tail and the Cadillac roared toward us.  I am not sure, but I think Donna was making the sign of the cross on her head and chest.  Hell!  We are not even Catholics!

By her second run at the curb, I had managed to get the door open and leapt in the car.  She smiled at me, her innocent smile of the patron Aunt.  "Oh, dear!  Why do the make these parking lots so hard to get into?  I got confused and tried to go into the wrong one.  My God!  They all look alike!  How are you dear?"

I talked her into getting out of the car and standing with Donna while I drove into the parking lot through the driveway.  Driveways sure make life easier.  Then we went inside and ate the carmels.  All of them!

I do not remember how long, but the next time I went, Aunt Helen was no longer driving.  I loaded mother up and we went to Aunt Helen's house.  Her little dog had been run over and she showed me the pictures of his dead body.  Then we set in the parlor to visit and in front of us was a bowl or Werther's Original Caramels.  We ate them all!

That was the last time I saw Aunt Helen before her death.  I still have only the fondest memories of those days.  Paralee died young.  In my family we either die young or live forever.  I am afraid I will fall in the latter category, but I will never live long enough to not think of my dear Aunt Helen when someone offers me a caramel.  I never buy them.  I should, because it would be my favorite comfort food.  I will never eat one without the memories of the comradery around the kitchen table on 15th Circle in Hutchinson, Kansas all those long years ago.

Some memories never leave us and they come me at the damndest  times.  There are only the two of us left.  I will try to get down to see Donna some time this winter.  There just does not seem to be enough time to do any thing any more, but I do think I will make time for that visit.  We just never know when we will get up in the morning and not make it to our bed at night, so we should try to make all our words kind, all our actions meaningful and all our thoughts good ones.

Life is far to short.