In my articles, I always write about the totally downtrodden or the crackheads or the ones who make dramatic changes, or the problematic individuals. Very seldom do I, or anyone else for that matter, write about those whose lives are never dramatic or noteworthy, they’re just ordinary.
At just about every breakfast that I serve, he comes into the kitchen and is always sure to greet me.
An average-sized man with average good looks, dressed neatly and ready to go to work. “Fred’s” lopsided grin is one that I always look forward to because it’s folks like him who remind me daily that not everyone is into a negative lifestyle.
To battle the often mundaneness of our existence, we look for the dramatic things in life in order to ‘spice up’ our own lives.
“Hi Opa, how are you?” This greeting from our two-year-old granddaughter emanated clear as a bell from the computer speakers while we were Skyping with our daughter, who lives 15 hours driving time away from us.
It’s hard to describe the great amount of joy that this simple greeting gives us, and so we sit in front of the computer with silly grins on our faces as we encourage her to tell us all kinds of stories.
It’s mostly gibberish, of course, but we pay rapt attention to everything she says, because as she grows, more and more of what she says makes sense, plus it lets her know we care.
Our hearts continue to melt while we listen and we also see that her mother looks on her child with love mixed with some pride.
She sashays into the kitchen looking around to see who all is there, eventually turning to me with a coy hint of a smile in acknowledgement of my existence.
I have known her since she was about two or three, and now she is a beautiful 15-year-old.
Three years ago she only came to the kitchen with her mother, a very loving woman who herself has issues. But eventually any influence the mother might have had wore away and this petite young woman now is making wrong decisions without restraint.
Many were the efforts by countless people to help this mother learn how to raise her child, but she was either not able or just blocked by her own issues to act on any of it. Without being taught any coping and or battling skills the daughter, who has already had an abortion, is only two steps from becoming a permanent resident of the street.
“Nobody wants to play rhythm guitar behind Jesus,
Every body wants to be the lead singer in the band.”
This song put out by a group called The Oak Ridge Boys came to mind this last couple of weeks. Several things have happened that make me realize that these words carry some validity; they’re not just some pretty words in a song. They in fact are a good analogy of the way that we are at times.