Monday, February 14, 2011

I fight to wake up...

...most mornings, but this morning I tried hard to stay asleep.  I was in the nicest dream and I didn't want it to end.


Like most of my dreams there were pieces of things here and there that are actual events in my life.  I remember the grass was green, so green it looked like shag carpet.  The sky was robin's egg blue with large fluffy clouds like giant cotton balls drifting through the air.




My brother and I were running along the top of the old sandstone fence that surrounded my hometown's scout house.  Built in the late 1800's the building still stands with the fence on 2 sides forming an "L" shape in the southeast corner.  It was originally built as a meeting place for Boy Scouts, but during my life it served many purposes including city library.


Like many of the old buildings in Southwest Kansas, the sandstone walls are very thick.  Over time the stones are worn away by the wind and weather, but it takes a strong tornado to completely rend apart the heavy rock.




It was a right of passage for the children of Minneola to use a stone that is harder than sandstone, like granite, to chisel their initials into the side of the building.  Sandstone is soft.  All it took was time.  The process was sometimes boring and definitely labor intensive for a 6 year old, but a necessary step in the growing up process for any child who happened to live in Minneola in the 60's.






Last time I checked, about 5 years ago, when I went home for my aunt's funeral, some 40 years after I let my mark, my initials were still there.  Definitely not as easy to read, nevertheless, the "K" and "B" are there on the northwest corner.  I remember as a child searching for the perfect rock that would be strong enough to rub back and forth across the surface of the sandstone.  It had to be  strong enough to sand off lines to create the letters, but pointy enough to not take off too much of the rock...kind of funny when I think about it now, I was a tagger in the 1960's, before it was the popular thing to do.




In my dream, my brother, Dean and I, were both young and strong.  I remember laughing as Dean ran ahead of me on the 3 foot tall fence, his long stride easily carrying him across the gateless entrance to the yard.  It took little effort for his long legs to make the leap, never breaking his stride.  But when I came to the void in the fence, I stopped.  I was scared and knew if I didn't jump hard enough my shins would pay the price.




He stopped, slowly turning around and calling to me.  I can't, I said.  I'm scared.  You can do it, he encouraged, but still I hesitated.




Then he did what every good older brother does, he jumped back, took my hand and together we jumped across the opening.  We both laughed and kept running, his big, strong fingers grasping my little girl hand.


Eight years ago, on Dean's 50th birthday, we sat at my parent's kitchen table and wrote our daddy's obituary.  We were both distraught and every once in awhile one of us would loose it and then the other would too.




He's the biggest, toughest sheriff in southwest Kansas, but he has a soft heart.  His picture is on the wall with Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp in the Ford County Court house in Dodge City.  He's a good guy to have on your side.  We don't talk as often as we should, but when we do we always end with, "love you".  He almost always answers his phone when I call, willing to do whatever is needed to help me.  He has always been there, someone to look up to and someone to look out for me.




I'm not the only one scared about what is happening in our lives, how we are both going to be orphans when mother dies.  He is a busy man as the sheriff and a Federal Marshall he is always having to take care of issues, but he's there for his little sis.




...and just as in my dream, we are in this together.  We don't know when we will get to the point that we will have to jump across a very scary place...








...but just as he was there for me in my dream, I know he is here for me today.


He is there ready to hold my hand and encourage me to make it through the scary times, protecting me from skinned shins,.


(PS: Who's that cute little boy sitting on your lap Debbie?)




1 comment:

Shay said...

I wanna know who the cute boy making the face on the couch is.