Tell Me A Story
As a very young boy I can recall the times my Grandparents would visit us in Maryland, from their home in Jasper, Indiana. I reveled in Grandpa Oscar’s visits, as did my brother and sisters. Grandma Nelda, on the other hand, was feared more than embraced. My grandparents never seemed to be in much of a rush when they visited, I was too young to understand the stress my grandmother caused in my mother. Grandpa Oscar could always lighten the moments by calling me to his lap, where I would sit and listen to his stories.
One of my fascinations as a youngster was listening to all the tails of bygone times, even injecting myself into these stories as if to claim them as my own.
With practice I could recall them with pin point accuracy, in every detail; it was important to be correct with regard to the fine points because it was the fine points of a story that made it unique. Read the rest of this entry »