Politics, and the sorry crap abounding, is not good for healthy thoughts. Sooner, or later, you have to shift gears, think of how everyone has something unique about their life, and contemplate how good can still be found.
I wrote the following years ago. Enjoy
Lead gray skies hung over the small pasture lined with almost bare oak trees. The few brown leaves would be gone after the cold front that was soon to arrive.
Turning, Preston found his daughter, Janet, who appeared at the door. She was in for a visit, although they never seemed to last very long. She lived in New York City, was divorced and her daughter was in upstate New York at college.
Preston thought about the comment and replied: “We’re the best of friends. I talk, she listens and we never argue.”
Preston waited, while Janet gathered her thoughts.
Preston put his hand on her shoulder and replied: “Baby, you don’t have to ask to come home.”
Preston smiled and memories flooded his thoughts. He remembered the summer before Janet’s last year in high school. She’d set up the barrels and was preparing for the 4-H rodeo. Knowing she was worrying too much, he’d made a bet he could beat her time – on her horse.
Janet walked in silence, with the events of the past suddenly appearing once again.
“I felt as though I neglected her and took her for granted. She was always there for me and I realized when she needed me most, there was nothing I could do.”
Janet grabbed her father’s shoulder, turned him and said:” You never neglected her.”
Her eyes flooding with tears, she continued:”If anyone neglected Mom, it was me. She gave me so much, only asked little in return and was always there when I needed her.”
Not knowing what to say, Preston only hugged his daughter for a few moments.
Neither knew what to say, but they both had just admitted they felt guilty for something that was never their fault. Both realized the years of dealing with their own spare baggage had left neither with the ability to help each other.
Hooking her arm around her father’s, Janet led him towards the house.
“C’mon Dad; we have some business to discuss.”
“I thought you wanted to think about this.”
Janet smiled and replied: “I did.”
As they approached the house, the heavy flakes increased; graying the distant hills into obscurity. The wind was increasing and the storm would soon place drifts against the house. By morning, the brown trunks and branches of the trees would stand in stark contrast to the solid white of the snow covered fields and gray skies. Winter was arriving as the paint mare pranced through the falling snow.