May I Be A Goose ?
she’d innocently ask as Mom or Dad nodded a smile of ok
& like clockwork, the five remaining bodies at that supper table would inquire the same.
May I be excused ? May I be excused ? May I be excused ? May I be excused ? May I be excused ?
It was simple, polite and pretty much expected.
Please came before thank you, prayer before the evening meal, I’m sorry, pardon me and God bless you, when appropriate. You took turns, helped when requested, answered the phone with a clear voice, cursive-d sincerely yours on all correspondence, church-ed on Sundays and Holy Days surrounded in common sense and kind
& how I adore those days.
I’m bored was not in our vocabulary as GO OUTSIDE and find something to do was a parent’s go-to response and there was ALWAYS something to do. Neighborhood games, walks to the Dime Store, Pharmacy or Custard Shop, relaxing on porches or floating in pools, those Summer days truly lasted forever. Suntans, jump ropes, roller skates and hopscotch. And Winter was no different. Bundle up and off we’d waddle. Snowmen, snow forts, ice skates and hot chocolate
& I sometimes wonder how and when life become so doggone complicated ??
But is it ? Really ? for throughout these United States tonight are moms and dads doing their best, with children laughing, hiding, dashing, trying, homework finished, dinners shared, bedtime stories, favorite pjs, brushed teeth, hugs, kisses, stalling, bargaining, tired families quietly settling in. And a little someone somewhere wondering about that elusive goose.
Different upbringings, generation-gapped eras, but oh, the memories made.
♥
& how similar we become, where love shines.
