Grandpa, Are You Still There?

Grasping my tackle box I was off down the shore, my nose  recognizing I was all ready there. I could smell the cool, green moss growing along the waters edge. I kicked my shoes off across the rocks and sticks. I was excited and most of all I was right where I had been so many times before - Grandpa’s favorite fishin’ hole.

He had taken me here since I was just two years of age. We always stopped along our drive to pick up a fresh batch of worms tucked away in a Styrofoam cup and lid. And of course I always had to open it up and get my first pick of the fattest, juiciest worm I could find to fish with.

Today was different though. I no longer had Grandpa with me and I was hoping that he still would accompany me in spirit.

Thinking my luck today would be rewarded by a tiny white marshmallow dipped in garlic, I prepared it. My line was cast out into the still calm waters. Now it was time to just wait. And wait I did. Thirty minutes must have passed and thinking I should check the line I reeled in.

Nothing.   Notta.   Zilch.

A thought entered into my mind as if to really hear the words, “Granddaughter, have I not taught you the secrets and art of fishing? Place that worm exactly as I have shown you and swing hard with that arm and your line will land in the middle of luck.”

 The worm seemed to be extra wiggly today. He wanted safety from my hook. Nope. Not today. I was determined to catch a fish this day just for Grandpa. I managed and did just as I had heard. Plunging my line I felt satisfied. Then with such quiet tenderness I whispered “Grandpa, are you still there?”

Counting in my head 1- 2 -3.

Wham! My pole bent straight down for the water. Yelling out loud, Fish on! Reeling, pulling, tugging we must have fought for ten full minutes but finally he was so close. Snatching my net I plunged my feet into the water so I could get nearer, then I plucked him up and he was captured. We had met our luck he was caught.

Grabbing his slimy body I poked my finger through the gills and unhooked the prettiest, largest rainbow trout I had ever seen. A smile stole across my face and heart, then whispering up towards the heavens. I said, “Thank you, Grandpa, for still being here. I love and miss you.”

By Taundra Shelton March 21, 2011

My Tale from MacBeth

From whence deep within my soul

I found the understanding for bearing upon my offspring

All the pangs of greatness.

For without it they would become the mere grimacing image of what life had

Truly not offered them.

For them

I wish not even one child who could say that the day could pass

Without the nights rest of mind

And the tremoring beliefs of unanswered prayers

 Would leave them

Still and Free – For this would be a lie.

This is what became of my thoughts as I came to know MacBeth, for through MacBeth’s life I saw a man of great distilled beliefs. He wished so much to find the victory and stillness that would lie just around the corner of his unfound good history. As his mind placed actions into his very own hands, he wrote this endless torment of his life.

On the contrary, Banquo’s life seemed to be one that would find his core beliefs rising and giving him strength to what was right and still; even learning not to entertain the minds play while being placed right at the center of madness. Was he faithful? I believe so. He hung to that which he knew to be right for his life and the life of his son. He allowed his own actions to be written upon his child’s very life.

It was through these two characters that I have had an awakening of responsibility as to my own parenting. What goes out from me becomes the power of strength for good to be found within the capabilities of my children. I want to teach that victory and peace comes from halting the entertaining of numbing ambitions. If allowed, our minds will take in our surroundings and we will begin to paint our own history through our own hands.

Is it enough to just keep struggling to make corrects choices while being encircled by madness? No, we must stand strong, confident and with our eyes focused ahead, clearing away those poisons that infect our souls and spill over to those who stand nearest to us, thus becoming that which we would never want for our children to become.  Remember that a comfort with normality will dampen our growth and greatness for victory.

I found in the very nature of Banquo, that once un-virtuous actions began to surface around him he turned and walked away, taking with him his dignity and legacy.

And I wondered if one day my children might look upon my life as one who could stop and pause so that the actions of my hands were worthy of their revering; leaving imprinted deep within them capabilities to write their own actions within their children that would leave a legacy -still and free.

By

Taundra Shelton