ANOTHER HERO
For the first 50 years or more of my life, I was always the helper, the fixer, the chauffeur, the care giver. For most of those years I was the youngest by at least 40 years, often more. If somebody needed to have something done, if I didn’t volunteer, someone volunteered me. If anyone had to go someplace, guess who drove? My grandparents raised me, by example, to be a helper, a good neighbor, to look out for those who were unable to do for themselves. I tell you this not to brag, but to explain how hard it is to sit back now and let people do for me. And “asking” someone to do something for me is almost an impossibility. You would think having spent so much time in the wheelchair I would have gotten better at asking, but, no, in fact it has pushed me even harder to get up on my feet and do it for myself, whatever it is. The brain is still 25 and is shocked daily to find that the body is not going along with that concept. Well, crap!
Twenty three years ago I moved down the street to a tiny house in the woods that is really kind of isolated for being in the town limits. I can see only one neighbor’s house, the one across the street, and even that one nearly disappears in the summer when the leaves come out. A few years ago I was able to see my neighbor’s house that is behind me thru the woods. We both had to have our pine trees cut down – pine bark beetle. It seemed so strange to be able to see a house back there. Today, as the new trees grow up, only the roof is visible, but I can hear Frank when he is mowing his grass.
I guess I can thank George W Bush for bringing Frank into my life. Even though we had been neighbors for years, we never “formally” met until I decided to explore the Democratic Party, turning my back on the party I had been raised with from my birth. Frank and his wife have become wonderful neighbors. I could not ask for better.
Last year, in March, I posted an article about being blessed with having Frank for my neighbor, and posted my first dirty pictures on here – pictures of my freshly tilled garden. It had been a dream of mine to have my own garden for years, and now that I had the time, I didn’t know how my body would be able to do it. I had purchased a Mantis several years ago thinking it was small enough and light enough to handle. A friend put it together for me and there it sat in my barn gathering dust. I had almost given up that dream when along came Frank with his cultivator and voila! I had a plowed garden just waiting for me to plant my seeds!
When I came home from a meeting yesterday afternoon, there was a message on my machine from Frank asking if he could come and till my garden. It was still kind of cool yesterday, in the 50s, and he thought it would be a good day to get the job done. Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the 70s.
He didn’t expect to have to take the axe to a huge root that had worked its way up almost to the surface! Bless his heart and aching muscles! What a job it turned out to be. I felt so guilty watching him battle with that root! 
I did talk him into trying out my Mantis, so now it looks at least slightly used! Much better to have some dirt on it and not just dust and cobwebs! I confess, I did try it out in a tiny area after Frank had plowed it up once, just to see if I could do it. Well, I can’t say I can, but I won’t say I can’t just yet. I will have to try it again. He did agree, once that root was out of there, the Mantis was fun to use. Well, maybe he didn’t use the word fun… I forget exactly what he said…
I know lots of people who just sit back and expect the rest of the world to do things for them. They have no problem asking for whatever they need – or want. I am not one of those people. I am posting this so Frank will know just how much I appreciate all he does for me. Just knowing he is my neighbor gives me a sense of comfort. Just to know I could actually ask his help is a wonderful thing. Thanks Frank!
For the first 50 years or more of my life, I was always the helper, the fixer, the chauffeur, the care giver. For most of those years I was the youngest by at least 40 years, often more. If somebody needed to have something done, if I didn’t volunteer, someone volunteered me. If anyone had to go someplace, guess who drove? My grandparents raised me, by example, to be a helper, a good neighbor, to look out for those who were unable to do for themselves. I tell you this not to brag, but to explain how hard it is to sit back now and let people do for me. And “asking” someone to do something for me is almost an impossibility. You would think having spent so much time in the wheelchair I would have gotten better at asking, but, no, in fact it has pushed me even harder to get up on my feet and do it for myself, whatever it is. The brain is still 25 and is shocked daily to find that the body is not going along with that concept. Well, crap!
Twenty three years ago I moved down the street to a tiny house in the woods that is really kind of isolated for being in the town limits. I can see only one neighbor’s house, the one across the street, and even that one nearly disappears in the summer when the leaves come out. A few years ago I was able to see my neighbor’s house that is behind me thru the woods. We both had to have our pine trees cut down – pine bark beetle. It seemed so strange to be able to see a house back there. Today, as the new trees grow up, only the roof is visible, but I can hear Frank when he is mowing his grass.
I guess I can thank George W Bush for bringing Frank into my life. Even though we had been neighbors for years, we never “formally” met until I decided to explore the Democratic Party, turning my back on the party I had been raised with from my birth. Frank and his wife have become wonderful neighbors. I could not ask for better.
Last year, in March, I posted an article about being blessed with having Frank for my neighbor, and posted my first dirty pictures on here – pictures of my freshly tilled garden. It had been a dream of mine to have my own garden for years, and now that I had the time, I didn’t know how my body would be able to do it. I had purchased a Mantis several years ago thinking it was small enough and light enough to handle. A friend put it together for me and there it sat in my barn gathering dust. I had almost given up that dream when along came Frank with his cultivator and voila! I had a plowed garden just waiting for me to plant my seeds!
When I came home from a meeting yesterday afternoon, there was a message on my machine from Frank asking if he could come and till my garden. It was still kind of cool yesterday, in the 50s, and he thought it would be a good day to get the job done. Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the 70s.
He didn’t expect to have to take the axe to a huge root that had worked its way up almost to the surface! Bless his heart and aching muscles! What a job it turned out to be. I felt so guilty watching him battle with that root! I did talk him into trying out my Mantis, so now it looks at least slightly used! Much better to have some dirt on it and not just dust and cobwebs! I confess, I did try it out in a tiny area after Frank had plowed it up once, just to see if I could do it. Well, I can’t say I can, but I won’t say I can’t just yet. I will have to try it again. He did agree, once that root was out of there, the Mantis was fun to use. Well, maybe he didn’t use the word fun… I forget exactly what he said…
I know lots of people who just sit back and expect the rest of the world to do things for them. They have no problem asking for whatever they need – or want. I am not one of those people. I am posting this so Frank will know just how much I appreciate all he does for me. Just knowing he is my neighbor gives me a sense of comfort. Just to know I could actually ask his help is a wonderful thing. Thanks Frank!
1 comment:
Frank did a good job!!
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