I sat on the steps pondering the years. The sunlight trickled through the leaves seemingly bleaching them of the greenness of summer. My granddaughter jumped down the steps with a sticky red fist.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a popsicle kind of day isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes sirree grandpa. Best way to spend the summer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do remember those long summer days when the ice cream truck would come browsing down the road hunting for children. The popsicles only got better as the warm evenings grew older.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are thinking of the past again, aren\u2019t you?\u201d the cherry-flavored face crinkled up at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps I do that too often, but so many of my friends are there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you thinking of grandma?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I remember the first time we met. She worked at the grocery store. I was there with a date buying ice cream, or maybe they were brownies. It wasn\u2019t important.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou mean you went on dates with girls that weren\u2019t grandma?\u201d Her eyes were wide.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I certainly did. It took time to grow up before I was ready to find grandma. That night I was with\u2026Harriet\u2026or maybe Mary.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWait, how many girls were there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh I don\u2019t remember. We were all so young and spent a great deal of time together. I\u2019m not sure which ones I can say I dated or not. \u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cBut didn\u2019t you love them? How can you forget someone you went on a date with?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I don\u2019t forget them, I just remember the details a little differently now. I remember I took one girl on a date to the lake. We sat on the old wooden dock and told stories about the stars as they winked out of the sunset.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds like fun, but it wasn\u2019t grandma?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNope, I hadn\u2019t found her yet. I was there with Maggie. She was a great girl, loved music and stories. She used to hum notes whenever she heard them and make up songs out of them. We would walk passed a staircase and someone would tap a metal railing and she would grab onto that note and begin to sing. It was quite the talent. \u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you love her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did, for my part. I wanted her to be happy, but we weren\u2019t quite ready for each other. We stopped dating after a while and she fell in love with the organist. They got married and taught music together at home and in schools. I think they ended up in Ohio or Kentucky.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it make you sad that she married someone else?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot at all. I\u2019m glad she was happy. And I\u2019m glad for the fun times we had together. I learned a great deal from her. I don\u2019t regret those times at all. Now I can sit here on these steps and smile about those times. Each memory has taught me and made me a little bit more. I think each of my wrinkles has some memory connected to it, all the fruits of a wonderful life. You see, some relationships are mistakes, others are lessons, and some are blissful wondrous adventures whose blossoming seems never to end. Even though some work out better than others, you can learn from all of them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose, but I\u2019d rather sit on these steps with a Popsicle.\u201d<\/p>\n
——————————————————-<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
Ronny walked in from his date. The clock was a little past the designated hour but I had found a wealth of stories in the paper that week and it was no trouble to sit there in my chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cWelcome back\u201d, I said glancing over the top of my glasses.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHey dad\u201d He walked in a slumped down on a chair, sinking until his chin rested on his chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019d she like the dirt?\u201d I asked<\/p>\n
\u201cOh. She said she liked the TOMATOES. Said no one had ever given her something like that before. We went on a long walk afterward. She\u2019s moving to California. Her dad got a job there.\u201d<\/p>\n
I set down the paper. This was to be one of those nights; this year\u2019s water crisis would have to solve itself.<\/p>\n
\u201cI offered to write, to call, email, whatever. We could work out a long distance thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited for the rest of the story.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said it was better to just let it go. I was sure that she was it. I thought we could conquer everything together. I guess she didn\u2019t think so. \u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be too put out, you\u2019re only 17, you have plenty of time to find a special someone. I dated dozens of girls before I found mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? Oh. I guess I had never thought about that before. Of course you dated other people, I suppose mom did too. \u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah we did. I even proposed to another girl. I\u2019m glad she said no.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMan. But didn\u2019t you ever feel like\u2026.like\u2026 that was it? There was nothing else to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure for a while. It was always hard. But you pick yourself up and move on. Before long your feelings calm down and you can see what you couldn\u2019t before. That girl, Becky, she had an explosive personality. She would spontaneously come up with these wild ideas like swimming in fountains or midnight ice cream runs. I was swept along for the ride. But she was much too fast for me. I could never hope to keep up with all her running about. In the long run she would have worn me down. I\u2019m glad she said no. I have no idea where I would be now if she had said yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow does mom feel about her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, we don\u2019t talk about it much. She knows but the past is the past. We leave it there. The important thing is that we are together now. We focus on that, not on what might have happened. And I am forever grateful that it happened this way.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMan, but what happened to Becky?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, she joined a circus. Yeah, I know. She wanted to be an acrobat but ended up running some light show. I\u2019m not sure where she is now. So who knows, maybe she got out of a lifetime of being a sideshow attraction.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe; and maybe tomato plants weren\u2019t the best present.\u201d<\/p>\n
————————————————————————-<\/p>\n
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/blog.canyon-stone.com\/files\/2011\/03\/rain.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
Fall finally reared its head in force. The rain came pouring down and the temperature fell 10 or 15 degrees. I was suddenly very aware of the responsibilities I had before me. I spent a few extra hours on campus but somehow didn\u2019t get much extra homework done. I walked from office to lab to class and back again. I felt hurried but directionless. On my way home late one night I took a detour to an overlook on the edge of my little universe. It had a small cover which protected me from the worst of the storm but nevertheless had soaked the hard metal bench.<\/p>\n
I ignored the wet and sat staring out into the gloom which turned all the familiar sights below into scenes from some sappy movie. I could see the tree that I had first discovered my first year here, the one with a branch perfect fitted for napping. I had shown it to her; I suppose I\u2019ll never go there again. There was the Jamba Juice where we went after volleyball games, cross both of those off the list.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to get away from all these memories.\u201d My mind raced to identify each drooping flower and each crooked brick. The spot we had that picnic before attending the symposium. The empty lot where the sunflowers grew that I picked to give to her. The grocer where they had the cheapest ice cream cones. \u201cWhat have I done? I have cursed this place forever. I\u2019ll have to leave, it\u2019s the only way.\u201d The water soaked my pants. I checked my watch. 11:30. We had talked only 7 hours ago. \u201cHow will I ever survive this? I can\u2019t leave. I have classes to finish, a job, five or six clubs that I\u2019ve volunteered to help out. But she will be there too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had known for weeks that things were winding down. There was a shadow in my mind every time we walked down the well-tended sidewalks or read under the large oak. Away from her I panic and cursed myself for filling my soul with doubt. Each time we met I convinced myself it was nothing but irrational fear. But I knew it had to end. Though I rebelled against the thought and scrambled to find just cause I knew I couldn\u2019t get away from it.<\/p>\n
So we said goodbye.<\/p>\n
Not goodbye to each other just to us. I would still see her. We would still bump into each other between classes or find ourselves at the same club meetings. Perhaps we would have to work together on one project or another. I would have to learn to look past her and she would have to do the same.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat have I done to her?\u201d I couldn\u2019t give her any sort of reason. As painful as my soul felt drenched in early winter rain I could only imagine what must have happened to her who held no responsibility for my failures.<\/p>\n
The lights turned out and all was dark pouring rain.<\/p>\n
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/blog.riley.rackliffe.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/10\/St-George-9.jpg\" "\\"St")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n