This blog will give you more insight into my being than you probably need to know, but what is life if it cannot be shared with others... so I dare to share with you my love for life, my family, my friends, and my Newfoundland.
November rain,
Elsie's Guestbook
It was winter. The snow beneath our feet felt soft and welcoming. We walked hand in hand for what seemed like forever, until finally we reached a small opening in the trees where we found a tiny rabbit held fast by its back leg. I said “Dad are we going to help it"? He thought for a long while and then said “I suppose”, so rabbit hunting became catch and release and while my belly would be empty that evening, my heart would be full of pride for my dad. It was late spring, He walked to the end of the stage and lifted the slippery cod from my feet, he said "this is how you do it child". Holding my hand steady, my father taught me how to cut at just the right angle, and with patience and practice, we had cod tongues for supper. It was summer, the road had long since fallen from our sight, but I wasn’t concerned for I knew he had traveled this path a thousand times. It had been hours since we left home and my legs were tired, but I would have walked to the end of the earth with him by my side. He had a half-gallon of bake apples and I had about a quarter of a gallon. He said "you sit here and I’ll finish picking the other quarter we need to finish off the bucket". He was gone for a really long time and I was hungry, so when my father returned he found an empty bucket and a full belly. With all the bake apple stains on my shirt I had no room for lies. I would have felt bad had I not noticed the tiny smile that had crept into his eyes, as he went back over the barrens once again. It was fall, he was asleep on the couch so I carefully tiptoed into his room. I reached my hand into the pocket of his jacket that hung in the closet. I quickly gathered up all the loose change and made my escape. Later that day my father said “Elsie… did you take the change that was in my pocket"? My first instinct was to lie like a rug, but something inside me said “just tell the truth”… so I said “Yes Dad” I took the quarters, but I always take the quarters and you keep putting them back so you must want me to have them”. I moved away from home at the age of nineteen and one of the last things I did was take the change from my father’s jacket pocket… knowing in my heart that he actually wanted it that way. There were many seasons of my youth and each one is full of cherished memories of my father and the many lessons I learned from him. He taught me to be strong, and to be thoughtful. He taught me the importance of forgiveness, and that I should always tell the truth. He taught me to have courage, and how to be self sufficient, but most of all, he taught me to understand the importance of family. I have been blessed and continue to be blessed by my father…. and from this world into the next, he holds my hand, he dries my tears, and he warms my heart…. Now and always Dad … I feel your love.
