Thursday, September 27, 2007

The Woman Behind the Baggage part Two

The woman behind the Baggage Part two

I want to thank you all for the kind replies. I called my Mother before I posted to check on my age at the time she left. My Mother had three gentleman callers before accepting my step daddy into our lives. One was taken by my mother but had no real concern for her children. Another was more interested in us then our mother. Poor Mommy! Then there was my daddy. He liked my mother and was interested in our well being. If she needed anything he was there. When we had to go to the doctor he was happy to have been called. It turned out we were suffering from malnutrition.

Later that night the door bell rang. A man so humbled not knowing if it would be acceptable was standing with bags of groceries in his trembling arms. The silent tears unhidden for his hands could not wipe them away. My mother accepted the offering and he left to retrieve more still in his car. Just a woman alone with six children during hard times. That night her prayers were answered for she accepted more then his groceries offered. She accepted his tender loving heart and our family grew.

His convertible was traded in for a Plymouth wagon with flip up seats way in the back for the extras always accepted in his heart.

I would like to add we were never hungry again. He learned to be a jugular with paying the bills and spent his life working hard in a factory raising his family. For some reason food was always the first thing thought of every payday.

One memory I will never forget. We were at the city dump and my mother and daddy were standing at the pit looking down. My mother had us all back in the wagon and had us keeping our eyes closed. I did not listen well and was sitting in the front seat when my daddy climbed back out of the pit. He placed some wooden toys on the floorboards by my mothers feet and she quickly covered them up. I saw the toys again at Christmas and they looked new with fresh
paint.

What kind of a daddy humbles himself so much that he would rummage in a dump to bring joy to a child's eyes. He was not a man filled with self pride but took so much pride in us as he raised us as his own. The song Daddies hand fits him so well.

What a blessing to have a mother willing to accept a man unable to express himself as well in words when his whispers of love could be found every day by his actions.

I truly want this loving and very true story to offer hope for all men and women thinking they have too much baggage. Often I have felt that way myself as a single custodial father but then I must remember.

Thank you all for accepting what I write and allowing me to share a very real and personal experience of my life.

The Trembling Man

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