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Uncle Moses
By Mona Lease
Hi, all!! I was young. I didn't get it. I did not understand what the
problem was. What was so "wrong" about talking on the phone and doing
the crossword puzzle from the newspaper at the same time?
I didn't understand why it was so "wrong" to have on the television
while you have company. Why did it bother him so? It bothered him so
much that he left early on more than one occasion.
I did not understand why it was so "wrong" to spend five minutes on the
phone with a friend who called you while he was there visiting you.
I did not understand. I thought it was all "much ado about nothing." I
thought - at times - that surely there was too much emphasis put on
these "trivialities."
But - you know...I think I understand. I think I "get it." When someone
calls...or comes to visit...they come to see you...and not your tv or
computer.
It's a personal time...if you will. And when you mutter the "uh-huhs"
or the "mmms" or the "ahhs" - they can tell. You might mutter these,
say these, whisper these...even at the appropriate time. And still they
know that you're only giving half of your attention to the conversation.
Open Letter to Uncle Moses
I remember all of the times I visited you. I remember all of the
laughs we shared. I remember all of the talks we had about life...about
love...about peace time...about war time.
I remember you telling me about family members that I never knew. I
remember all of the buckhorn weeds we pulled out of the barnyard. I
remember walking behind you while you were on the tractor in the field.
I picked up the small rocks and stones turned up by the plow you were
pulling.
I remember being with you at the natural spring on the farm. You showed
me what deer tracks looked like when the deer paused at the spring to
get a drink.
I remember how we found arrowheads at the spring and a few small
pipes...along with knives chiseled out of stone. I remember you saying
the spring was a place where the Indians - and wild animals - rested
and regrouped. The Indian might have sharpened a knife there. The
animal might have groomed it's fur there.
I remember you teaching me about art...how to choose colors...subject
placement and much more. I remember you teaching me how to hand-letter
signs and which trees shed their leaves when.
I remember all of your hard work and dedication to keeping the family
healthy and united under a set of "family values."
I'm glad I spent every possible moment with you that I did. See...Uncle
Moses...I finally "get it." To dilute...or maybe pollute...a
conversation with something you read from a newspaper or tv - detracts
from the little "nuances" in the conversation...especially when it's an
in-person conversation.
And all of those "little nuances" are important. I remember the look in
your eyes when you realized I was actually listening to your imparted
knowledge. I remember the way you folded your hands in your lap when I
finally grasped a theory you explained to me...and I got it all right.
I wish you were still here to share an "OP" with me...or a few laughs.
I'm sorry we - as a people - have traded the "pulling the buckhorn" (by
hand) and the bonding time over that...for some of Monsanto's Round-Up.
I guess there's not much to bond over when you just want to be rid of
the unwanted in a quick manner.
Remember the kiddies and our service people. Take good care of the
furry and feathered ones out there. Be safe and healthy. See ya next
time. Ever Toodles!!! MONA
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