As a family, we have gravitated towards holidays and celebrations that reflect our heritage and our beliefs. All Hallows Eve is a time of gathering and we oblige. The family gets together along with a few close friends and we eat some our favorite foods and toast the good times of summer past while greeting the darkness of winter.



My day of departure for the long walk home was marked by downpours of Noah-like proportions. I decided to spend Saturday inside and to mark Sunday as the day for my departure. Sunday morning came with a steady wind of twenty to thirty mph and gusts up to fifty. I can barely recall a more windy day. It was awesome to witness but I was fearful of walking the wood in such a wind. The trail would be wet and a hazard to walk on. There are stories of "widow makers" - trees that fall on unsuspecting woodsman ending our already short lives. I decided that Monday would be a better day.


Monday arrived with a blazing sun and temperatures that rose to the sixty degree mark. I contemplated taking the off road trail down to the logging road in hopes that I would be fortunate enough to find a ride by a local hunter. If I wasn't as fortunate, it would add five hours and many more miles to my trek homeward. Knowing that I would only be staying a few days at home and returning to my winter's retreat, I decided that this decision would be the better of the two choices and I headed for the logging road.


Needless to say, I arrived at the old railroad bed leading towards home many hours later than expected. No ride came for me. My legs were heavy and ached like those of a marathon runner. I felt my anticipation grow. My heart skipped a beat as I saw my house. I paced my breath with the rhythm of my stride and marched forward. There were several cars in the drive but the fast approaching darkness made their identification difficult. I didn't see my daughter's car and I felt a surge of panic. I so wanted. nay, needed to see my beloved granddaughter; the Dingo. I knew in that instant of my attachment to this little girl. The one that always wanted me to show her the moon. "Hi moon. Hi stars," she would say. "Goodnight moon."


At the end of the drive my eyes adjusted and the car was there. As I arrived, there she was. Happy to see me. "Go see the moon," she said with arms stretching foward for me to pick her up.


We did.

Comments

Don Iannone said…
And the child shall lead us. Wonderful!
Tim,
what a wonderful story, thanks for sharing that. Someday I would like to hear how it is you came to live where you do, and about the winter's retreat. Maybe one day when you have the time, it would be a wonderful story.

Peace
Mark
Loralee Choate said…
Tim,

That just made my night.

I need to go give my kids a hug.
Bert said…
I go with Mark, I think you have very fascinating stories to tell us. Especially us youngsters who forgot to appreciate life ...
Brittany Hogan said…
Beautiful! You have the gift of storytelling.... Thanks for sharing that gift with us! I will be back for more...
Hillbilly Hotei said…
Thanks, Tim. Very well crafted post...you inspire me to write better and you've made my day!
"James" said…
Beautiful words and beautiful lil one. Out of the mouth of babes...