The World of Grandpa Don
A work in progress - complete but not finished |
What's New In the world of Grandpa Don On this page I have recorded what I found significant during the past week as well as my thoughts about those events and other reflections. I started doing this before the practice became popular on the internet This is my diary, written a little each day and published weekly. At times I may seem to pontificate on a subject that comes to mind during the week. I do not intend it as a demand or even a suggestion that everyone should think or act as I do. It is rather, intended to let you know what goes on in my mind ... how I am motivated to live as I do.
If The World of Grandpa Don
appeals to you, |
Week Ending Friday April 25, 2008 |
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When I opened the book of my father's writings this past week it occurred to me that I should share the frontispiece so beautifully prepared by my sister as well as her introduction. The one is not only beautiful but is a tribute to Marilyn's artistry, and the introduction, though brief, sets the tone and the scene. These can now be found on my contents page of My Father Wrote ... To these pages I have added three more from our book. We conclude the whimsical series of poems with Interpretive Dancing . This could have been sub-titled "An ordinary guy goes to the Ballet". It illustrates that what we see is colored by our culture and experiences in life, not necessarily what it actually is or meant to be. On a more serious note we have Slippin' . This poem, undated but obviously composed after his cavalry days could be coupled with "The Return", Some call it wanderlust or dub it the "seven year itch". After experiencing the exotic places visited in youth we get a yen for travel and something less humdrum than the constant duties of everyday life. Maybe it's the "Hobo" in us. Sometimes it is not easy to accept that what we are doing now is our life and as such is important to us. Maybe not exciting, ... but important. Next, I applied the title "Nature" to this short essay by my father. It may be described as an awakening to the values of nature, the simple things found all around us. It may be the answer to "Slippin'", a way to appreciate nature's wonder without the need to travel to exotic places. As Marilyn noted in her note following our father's thoughts, John Burroughs died in 1921, a news item of the day that may have stimulated Al Copeland's interest in him and his works. Our sister, Rita Barilla, informed me that our dad was an avid gardener and raised beautiful roses in his garden. For myself, I have always had an awe and appreciation for nature and flowers although not particularly blest with a green thumb. This has manifested itself in my recent years through Grandpa's Guardian Angel Garden. Even though short, this essay goes deep, far beyond nature, into life itself. It brings us to realize that we must be aware of the people and happenings in this world that we share with everyone else. Maybe I should have called it "Selflessness". I takes us beyond ourselves and shows his kind and gentle side. I find it to be very deep in meaning, a look into the spirit of the man, a glimpse into the things that made him wonder. As you can see, a cool wet Saturday was invested in my father's writings and, more deeply, into his thoughts ... as I perceive them. Marilyn selected a favorite amongst his writings but, although I tried, I failed to find one. Each one tells a different story about him and if taken from a literary standpoint, the subjects are so diverse that my mood as it changes from day to day alters my perception of his thoughts as he presents them to us. It was my intention to present the best of them on this web site. But what do I omit? I have a tendency to dig for deeper meanings in things and in reading and re-reading these pages I am well satisfied.
Sunday started in glory, sunny bright and warm. In place of the choir at mass there was a string trio, two violins and a cello along with a drummer tucked away in the background to enhance the tones of the piano and organ. One of the teen violinists has had a boyfriend accompany her to church and probably to practice and Deanne, our choir master, has now put him to work with a tambourine. I think it is called Evangelization. Fr Steve included as story in his homily. It seems that a well-to-do man died. He was met at the gates of heaven by St Peter who escorted him in, explaining that he would first be settled into his new house which had been prepared for him. The man was overjoyed as they walked the golden street past row upon row of fabulous mansions but became disturbed when they turned on to a dirt road and came to a stop at a miserable shack made of tin and plywood. He was dumfounded when St Peter announced that it was his home. As he started to protest, St Peter said, "It's the best we could do with what you sent us". Fr Steve explained the Eternity doesn't start sometime in the future, but it is in progress now. We should not only be thinking about it but working on it. I drove home from church with the sun roof open. I noticed a lot of people baptizing their cars. When I got home the gazebo invited me out and the weekly parish bulletin was perused while enjoying a cup of coffee and the sounds of the birds. A serving of soup, conveniently packaged and after 1.5 minutes in the microwave provided a lite lunch after which I checked my email, fed Mikey and was off to the Marist High School 44th Annual Spring Band Concert featuring of course Caitlin Plefka, well secluded in the 25 member flute section of this huge band. The first selection was disappointing, with, in my pinion, a rather week performance from the woodwinds but the day was soon rescued with stellar performances of the works of Susa followed by selections from "Hairspray". The Junior Jazz band , despite a few bright spots, was clearly junior in their rendition of Honeysuckle Rose. The performance of a symphonic poem, "The Universal Judgment" failed to gain acquittal. After an intermission, the performers were redeemed, first with a band arrangement of a Hymn originally written by St Francis of Assisi. There was then a well performed symphonic suite based on "The Band of Brothers". The senior Jazz Band demonstrated their high professionalism with "Fiesta Bahia" showcasing several talented soloists. The Gershwin on Broadway medley was outstanding enhanced by stellar performances from the pianist and an outstanding clarinet solo. I love Gershwin and tend to well up with emotion when experiencing his work well done. Such was the case for this performance. The concert concluded with a very well performed selection from "Jersey Boys". Overall, it was a success and I enjoyed it, always impressed by these young musicians and their accomplishments. The graduating g seniors were recognized, as this was their final performance with the band. In addition, many other deserving people were given recognition. This was also Caitlin's last performance with the band. She is dropping the band in her senior year in order to take on a heavier academic load in preparation for college. After the concert, we met at the Limestone City Grill. Since there was a reception for the seniors to which all band members were invited after the concert, Caitlin joined us a bit later. While waiting, we enjoyed libations and a cheese and fruit platter. When Caitlin arrive we ordered. Kelly was absent, having gone with her parents to Denver for her cousin's First Communion. I intended to order the "ladies" cut of prime rib but did not specify the size and so was presented with a huge piece of beef. For the slight difference in cost it was three times the size of the small cut. Caitlin was the only one of us with any common sense since she refrained from indulging in desert. In any case, it was a delightful evening with family to end a perfect day.
Monday morning Mikey was perplexed by the fact that instead of my usual routine, I got dressed and went for my blood tests. I was in and out quickly and went to Ashford House for my traditional self-treat of Eggs Benedict. It was s delightful "shirt-sleeves" day. When I came home I took my coffee out to the "summer chapel" for my delayed visit with God & Anne. We had a delightful visit and I had much to tell them ... more than I can share with you here. After checking the email, it was time for lunch and the big hunk of prim rib I had brought home Sunday was cut into three .three thinner slices, one of which, heated in the microwave and garnished with hot mustard, made a great sandwich for lunch. Last Friday, when I went foraging for food, I made the 159th Street circuit,. stopping first at Home Depot for furnace filters, light bulbs and a supply of tie-wraps. From there it was the gas station ... thank God for credit cards ... a stop at the liquor store to replenish those supplies and then to the Jewel. Monday I put some of the tie-wraps to use binding the two pieces of trellis and replanting them in the ground so they stayed together and stood straight. I did a bit more cleanup in the garden and moved winter chairs from the gazebo to the patio. I brought the small glass top table out from the shed to its place in the gazebo and also one of the padded chairs. The other padded chair is behind some other patio furniture and will have to wait for stronger backs. It was time to rest again! After feeding Mikey, I cleaned the glass top of the table in the gazebo and took my book out there along with a B&B to soak up more of the delightful day. I said I didn't expect anything new from this book but it is always good to be prepared for the unexpected. I have been under the misapprehension that ego is always bad. I have been wrong, Now that I think about it, like everything else about us, our egos are part of us, put there with all the other parts by God. It has a purpose. Ego only becomes a problem when we allow it to become dominant and when we identify our "things" with ourselves. To say, I am what I own, is to let ego take control.. We need a bit of controlled ego, after all isn't that what self-esteem is all about, knowing you have worth. Lack of self worth leads to depression ... despair ... even suicide. Most criminals have been told all their lives that they are worthless and believing that, have turned to crime as the only way out, which of course is self-defeating. I watched the final segment of the HBO special on the life of John Adams and I must confess that I cried during much of it. I thought the entire series was outstanding. First of all, how many people get to watch a TV special about their 2nd cousin (6 time removed).. John Adams' grandmother Hanna Bass was the sister of Mary Bass who married David Copeland. Hanna, Mary and Sarah Bass were the grandchildren of John Alden and Pricilla Mullins.of Mayflower fame. The series also brought to me a new insight into the American revolution as well as the founding of this nation. It is amazing we survived. There were many things of which the history books coldly record, but in this presentation they are brought to life and almost made personal. We were able to witness the problems encountered not only in the formation of the government but in the lives of many of the people of the day. I shall have to see if this series is available on DVD. Not many families could claim a family heirloom such as that!
Watch this space! Well, you don't need to sit there and stare at it but ... Next week (or later) I may have something really important to tell you. It will be really BIG! Sorry, ... you will just have to wait .... Calm down now!
Tuesday morning was another good spring "gazebo" morning. Several of the perennials are well on their way but others have yet to emerge. I must be patient. Still, it is nice to be outside for a change. I devoted some time to reading on Tuesday, delving further into Tolle's concepts on Ego. He reminds us that ego and possessions get tied together and we tend to think that we are what we own, The fact is, however, that we don't really own anything considering the fact that sooner or later we must relinquish everything. It is also a fact that whatever we have, it is never enough. He says, "Most egos have conflicting wants. They want different things at different times or may not know what they want except that they don't want what is: the present moment." Yep, that describes a lot of us ... always unhappy, no matter what we have. As I sat there in my precious gazebo I asked myself how attached I was to my things. First of all, I concluded that I am definitely not unhappy but rather, have a feeling of peace and contentment. But what if I had to give up some or all of the "things" I have ... my nice car, my comfortable house, ... my GAZRBO! Well, someday I will. I have already lost my most prized possession ... my Anne, although in truth, even though I thought of her an "mine" she never was. My life changed ... radically ... but is still good. I once loved my work and was afraid to give it up but when I .did, I adjusted quite well to the new situation. Someday, I will no longer be able to drive. I tell my kids to be sure to take my car keys away before I do some damage to myself or someone else. I am sure that I will either find a way to get where I want to go, or find a way to not want to go there. There will come a time, assuming I live that long, that I will either not be able to live in this house, either due to finances or health, or both. I love my house but I am sure that I will adjust. The World of Grandpa Don is not some mythical, never changing, paradise. I am very comfortable in it but my big sign is there in front of me: "Life ahead ... expect changes." I have come to the realization that nothing is permanent, not in this life, and that I don't "own" my things. More importantly ... my things don't own me! It is said that if you have to ask what the boat costs, you can't afford it. I just discovered a similar truism. I was going to tell you a story and in fact, already wrote it, but then wondered if some may not want it told. So, I asked. It was later that I realized that if I needed to ask if it was OK, it was not. The mere doubt is enough to tell me that it is better untold. I am almost 77 and still have a lot to learn. The good thing is that I am still able to recognize when I am being an idiot. The best part is that I am able to change. However, if (when) I do slip, please let me know that I did something stupid, or even a little dumb. I still need all the help I can get.
Wednesday was another beautiful day. A light jacket was needed for my
morning coffee on the patio before going in to send out the weekly
newsletter for the parish. Because of the coolness I did my bible study
homework inside.
At the
Thursday was busy w
My morning prayer time today had the patio for its setting. The patio
gets the morning sun and is sheltered from the breeze. It was delightful
there. The gazebo is, of course, a shelter from the sun but is exposed
to the wind, a place for me on those hot days which are to come. The
swing gets the afternoon sun and so there is a place for me to enjoy
nature in its shifting patterns.
This week we offer birthday congratulations to John Barilla, husband of
my sister Rita. And while we are thinking of him lets say a prayer that
his health may improve so he may enjoy his years. Besides, he has to
take care of one of my little sisters.
As I finish this page this morning my "lawn guys" are swarming about out
there. Some are blowing the remainder of last year's dry leaves and
other winter debris from between the evergreens and shrubs. Others are
navigating the big mowers which are swallowing up all that stuff while
giving the lawn its first cut of the year. That part of the World of
Grandpa Don is getting a beauty treatment.
A prayer is only answered |
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Grandpa Don Plefka |
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Anne
wanted everyone to be 'Nice'. This button was in one of her dresser drawers I cleaned out in August of 2004
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