The Thoughts of a Frumpy Professor

............................................ ............................................ A blog devoted to the ramblings of a small town, middle aged college professor as he experiences life and all its strange variances.

Monday, October 16, 2006

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Apologies for Not Posting

It has been a very long time since I have missed a day's posting. I apologize. Two things were weighing on my mind:

1. My mother's rapid weight gain (fluid retention), which seems to have been addressed adequately thus far. It was quite troublesome all weekend and helped to put me into a poor mood.

and

2. My baby brother whom I wish would write more (perhaps some cajoling comments from you, my readers would help), called me this weekend and was sad and crying.... because his oldest daughter (she is now 3) moved from her crib to a small child's bed. I both chuckled and was also sympathetic, because I responded very similarly myself long ago. It made me think of this long ago displaced story:

As is typical for any good father, his love of his kids is enormous. This was especially true with my own first child, my beloved daughter Marie. She did and still does always have a wonderful glint and sparkle in her eye, and she is such a good, good daughter.

As with my brother, Konrad, I too remember that day when I took down her little crib, dismantling each piece so as to be able to move it out of her room and on upstairs so our very small son (Michael) could begin to use it. It had already been a rough day that morning... I felt out of sorts and very unfocused. It wasn't until early afternoon that I actually began the process of dismantling the crib. Each part of the crib that I removed made the room look more and more barren. Each piece I carried upstairs made me realize that my own little, precious daughter was growing up, growing older. And even though I knew even then that it was simply a part of the process of life... I was extremely overcome with emotion. I remember driving with the family out to a birthday party for some cousins, my wife actually drove, and the kids had quickly fallen asleep in the back seat. I sat there staring out the window, and I could not help myself, but warm, salty tears began to fall from my eyes onto my cheeks and into my beard and moustache. Trying to supress the emotion proved fruitless, although I was able to keep my sobs silent (so as to not wake the children). I had never before felt such wringing saddness for something that in effect was actually good. I just felt so very sad and dejected for my baby girl had become a little girl.

So, I can understand why my baby brother was so sad. I guess some of his emotionalness may be genetic after all. I am not as gruff and tough as I try to have people believe either. Just remembering that story itself, was bringing tears to my eyes, even after all this time. I am a bit of a sentimental old fool it seems.

PipeTobacco

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