The World

"Tug Hill Plateau"

The World

By John R. Greenwood

The world is changing 

I think

For every step forward 

a clipity-clop back

but then in the distance 

a nano second flashes by

I turn to look in the mirror 

a boy flashes by

Wars still rage in far away places

 and in the school yard 

bullies still display their fear 

painters continue to paint

while children play

The winds cleanse weakened minds 

the vulture media replenishes

never at a loss for fuel 

always an audience waiting

The world is mine for the taking

kindness mine for the giving

choices 

the fine line

between the beginning and the end

Dad, Rascal Went To A Good Home

Dad, Rascal Went To A Good Home

By John R. Greenwood

My father passed away in February of 2009. One item he left me with was a little red scooter called a Rascal. He bought it to get around his apartment building. I attempted to sell it a few times with little success. I guess I really wasn’t trying too hard. Occasionally I would put it out by the road with a handwritten For Sale sign. I never posted an ad in the paper or listed it on-line. The Rascal wasn’t a heavy duty electric chair like you see on television so the used value was limited to a few hundred dollars. I stored it in my cellar and kept the battery charged. Recently I’d been doing some thinning out and I decided it was time to find a home for the Rascal. A few days later at work I happened to be talking to a coworker about her affiliation with local VFW Post #2475 in Glens Falls, N.Y. Her name is Belinda Ellis and she devotes a large part of her spare time supporting veterans. Along with VFW Post # 2475 she is also involved with Operation Adopt a Soldier. One of her special projects is fund raising for the Global War On Terrorism Monument. The monument is being proposed for the southwest corner of Crandall Park. The monument would commemorate and honor service members of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was seconds after speaking with a impassioned volunteer and supporter of local veteran groups that I offered the Rascal to Belinda to do with what she liked. I thought the VFW Post might know of a veteran that could use the Rascal. Belinda being the ultimate fundraiser accepted and acknowledged the donation before I could say, “God Bless America.” The next morning the Rascal was being loaded in Belinda's trunk and was headed to Glens Falls VFW Post #2475. Belinda said Rascal would be put to work immediately. I know dad would approve and be thrilled to know that the Rascal would continue giving others a little more mobility and freedom. After all, freedom is what it’s all about in the first place. 

Dad, the Rascal seemed happy being adopted and placed back in service. He was excited to be going to a good home. I knew that would put a smile on your face. 

Here is a link to a previous post about Dad's Rascal. It tells the story about sales pitches, scooters, and a father and son relationship that got stronger at the end.  The post was called  The Day Of The Rascal. 

Child Of Mine

Child Of Mine
By John R. Greenwood

A son, a son, and a mother

Child of mine so gentle with your own son held close and dear. Give all the love you have to give. The years will wander quickly. Time refuses to linger and wait. Grasp each moment as if it were leaving in the morning. Don't think about, 'What if's'. Live your life in, 'Why Not's'. Saturate your child with open doors of self expression and pats on the back. Encourage and enrich the spirit of the boy who shares our blood. Nurture kindness and charity in his soul. He will thrive in the world before him and beyond. Provide time of quiet and reflection. Every moment need not be filled with noise and movement. These are times to re-energize and grow--as individuals and as a family. Three of hearts and happiness, arm in arm, hand in hand, traveling down the path together. Love this life before you all. Don't listen to the nonsense that fills the airwaves. Listen to each other. Listen close, and often. Speak only to say, "I love you," or "What do you think?" Leave anger at the curb. Lead by example. Learn something new as you go. It's never to late to learn from this journey. I have learned to share whats inside. You never know who's listening. Most importantly know that as parents you will never know a joy so deep as the joy you hold before you in this photograph. 

Here is another tribute to sons.

Baby Day Chapter #1

Baby Day

Chapter #1

Most Photogenic Shower Gift

 What better prompt to get back to writing than to have another boy born into our family. Our latest baby day actually began yesterday afternoon when my youngest son called my wife and I to let us know they were beginning to time contractions and that they would call when he and my daughter-in-law were heading to the hospital. It’s been several years since our oldest son had his second of two boys so we’ve been out of the baby loop for quite awhile. It’s always a happy time and a nervous time too. The suspense of the boy/girl outcome is now a, “Do you remember when?” memory. I have to admit, as nice as it is to be able to plan ahead, I am sorry to see that happen. There is no greater thrill than hearing the words, “It’s a boy!” or “It’s a girl!” announced by the doctor as he delivers your newest family member into the world. My wife and I have enjoyed the excitement of, “It’s a boy!” twice. I like it the old school way. But, like everything else in the world things change, even diapers, so we must too. 

My grandson decided to wait out the night. He must have wanted to start out on the right foot by exhausting his parents from the very beginning. Long sleepless nights are a parents job and my grandson already made it clear he was not going to be an exception to the rule. 

The silence was broken this morning when my wife received a text saying that things were progressing quickly and it was just a matter of time. I was provided with cat feeding instructions by my son and after I completed the mission we planned to head to the hospital. 

"Barley" 

I probably shouldn’t have, but I took the liberty of giving my son’s cat Barley a heads up that things in his life were about to change drastically. He was soon to lose top-cat status to a crying baby. The silence of his days home alone were in jeopardy. Along with several new noises would come a wide array of smells. There were sure to be more people coming and going, wiping their feet on his sun-soaked rug and whispering little baby sounds to the new cooing creature under the soft blue blanket. I didn’t sugar coat it, I told the truth. The cat pretended to be indifferent about my warning. He flipped his tail a few times as if to say, “I’m not scared.” We’ll see my furry little friend, we’ll see. 

Song
Written by Harold C. Randall



Love that is hoarded, moulds at last
Until we know some day
The only thing we ever have
Is what we give away

And kindness that is never used
But hidden all alone
Will slowly harden till it is
As hard as any stone

It is the things we always hold
That we will lose some day;
The only things we ever keep
Are what we give away.

I ran across this poem and felt it should be shared. 
The photograph is mine. 
The beautifully decorated dining room table was done by my equally beautiful wife Patricia.