My grandpa died just a moment ago
Above my head a great oak clock sits and ticks
Down my cheeks dampness begins to flow
The postman wanders up our front walk bricks

My grandpa died just last week
The school bus stops at our block
My life seems listless, dull and meek
The sounds of children as they play and talk

My grandpa Died one year ago, today
The crowd cheers as the batter swings, it’s a hit
My sweet memories have gone astray
The ball rolls down and knocks over an impossible split

And then it becomes so clear, so plain to see
As long as I remember him, he will always be with me

-STU-

In loving memory of my grandpa, Cas you will always live on in me.

Wind in my Hair

I was standing there, leaning on the railing, the boat was slowly picking up speed. I could feel the chill wind prickle on my neck. I cast my eyes westward, the sky was alive with color, the clouds reflecting the red-orange glow casting rays down into the water which mirrors the sky as if it houses a world below the waves. I took a deep breath of fresh mountain air, feeling the cool air deep inside my lungs. I push gently on my coats zipper, sealing in the warmth of my body. Casting my gaze aside and slowly back to the deck, I see her walking towards me, I feel a sensation of excitement race through my body. I pull my hands out of my warm pockets and reach out, walking towards her closing the gap. I feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek as we pull each other close, squeezing her tightly I sway slightly with the warmth of her embrace.

STU - 10/22/2008.

Neglected

It was early morning about 8:00 am; John was in the passenger seat of his fathers red Pinto station wagon. He was dressed in his white pants with blue stripes, leggings and a blue hat matching his shirt with the number 7 right in the middle. Holding his mitt in his lap and chatting about, well about anything and everything. If it was one thing John could do it was chat. His father pulled into the baseball park and pulled up next to the other cars, cars that had been there since 7:30am the time John's baseball team was supposed to arrive to warm up for the game. "Can you stay and watch dad", John asked, knowing well the answer that would follow. "No son, I have some business to attend to this morning, page me when the game is over." John Trotted over to join his team. He watched his dad drive off as he was rounding the field for his first lap of the 10 he was running to pay of his debt for being late.

The game went as they always went for John, sitting out most of the game, wishing he could be somewhere else, wonder what he could do to make his father proud of him, to make him really stand up and take notice. When he finally played it was right field, the position of least impact for the team. John was up twice, this was an especially lucky day for him, because he got hit with the second pitch, he was on base one less strike out for the season. One less time he had to see the disgusted look of his teammates as he turned dejected from the plate after swinging for the third time with no connection on the ball. The game ended, the score was not important; he had suffered through another game and would soon be back with his father.

John went to the phone booth and paged his dad, he hung around the booth for a while waiting for the return call, it was not unusual for this to take some time today was no exception, an hour or so after he had called his father finally returned the call. "Things are crazy today son, I will come and get you as soon as I can", his father said. John went off to play for a while, swinging on the swings, jumping on the big tractor tires that were filled with standing water from the rains a few days before. His friends came and went each in turn arriving prior to their games, practicing, playing and being picked up. John paged his father a few more times, but received the same empty promise "I will be there as soon as I can". The funny thing is John never stopped believing this, he knew his father loved him, his work was important for the family and necessary if the family was to maintain their current lifestyle. Sometimes just knowing things is enough; this is not one of those times. John sat inside of the big tractor tire and wondered what he could do to make his dad sit up and notice him, to be so proud that just once he could come first.

It was dark when the last car pulled out of the park, leaving John alone. John had just paged his dad, and was waiting for his return call. He was huddled by the only light left shining the 'Phone' sign above his only connection with the world. Tossing his ball high into the darkness and trying to catch it upon its earthly return John cried lightly, muttering to himself, if only I could do the right thing to make him notice me. Alone, frightened, cold and hungry John finally saw the sight his eyes had longed for, the pinto returning. "Hi son" His father said, "How are you". "I am fine Dad", he said aloud, while thinking to himself "I am fine now Dad, now that you are here."

STU – October 2008

Dear Grandfather

Dear Grandfather,

I hope this letter finds you well. A certain sequence of events has recently brought my attention to details of our relationship that have until now been obfuscated. I would have liked to have seen you more often over the years; it would have brought us closer together. I may have been able to recognize certain things before. I have always felt a certain desire to aspire to great things in life, t rise above any and all roadblocks that stand in my way. I have been inspired by you to succeed despite challenges that stand in my way; I remember hearing stories of how you came to favor one leg over the other. I remember them as thus: You fell out of a truck as a youth and were told you were to never hope to walk again, working against all odds you strengthened your ailing limb by pushing yourself in a wagon, using your bum leg. I always new a walking Grandfather; one who owned a beautiful house in an orange orchard near the Pacific coast.

I remember playing the piano (or rather playing with the piano) in your home; I played songs that made me think of weather, mainly storms. The rumble of that piano, still courses through my bones, the music I hear now, though the same as then, sounds so much more beautiful to my ears. I used to play, back then, with a certain tuning fork. I had no idea what the purpose of this sweet sounding instrument was, but I do know now. The time that we did enjoy together was very special, I remember impatiently awaiting seeing you. I remember a grandfather who always wore a business jacket, I have a certain respect for blazers and often wear one now. I loved the accent that you carried with you from the east coast, the way you said my name will ring forever in my ears when I think of you.

On my last visit with you we had the opportunity to dine together, you were not a nimble young man any more. Your mind often drifted, you would sit and look around as if uncomfortable in the environment. Then the conversation would drift to times gone by, back at the water company with your colleagues. Your face would light up as you remembered great stories of yesterday. This same effect was present when you talked of family history, like when you showed me a painting of a ship in your living room, this was a painting of a ship that one of our ancestors sailed on. We had a terrific conversation on the way to dinner, just the two of us for the drive. I described to you all of the adventures and activities related to the raising of my children, you were very eager to hear all that I could tell.

When I remember you I will always think of certain things:

- Red Wine, “89 years old and this is my only medicine” you would say (thought the year would change).
- The Piano in your house, and the tuning fork as well, I played as much as I could when I was there.
- Your smile, the one you would give me when you said hello after a long absence.
- Your voice, the sound of your accented words ring like music in my heart.
- The way you addressed letters to me, Master John Stuart and the thought that they conveyed.
- The orange orchard, what a beautiful view.
- Walking around you neighborhood, I think there are houses where we used to walk, I remember looking for fossils.
- I remember getting a tour of the data center where you worked, this was likely my start to my career today.

Granddad, you are someone very special and influential in my life, I will hold you in my heart forever.

STU - 2004

Carousel

The smallest glance at him caused an uncontrollable depression, not a deep depression like you would feel if you lost someone dear to you but more like the feeling you get when you find yourself alone in a restaurant waiting for you friends or family to arrive. He stood there in line with a crowd of small children some with parents all excited to be on the next turn of the carrousel. He was probably in his early fifties, smartly dressed, well groomed and unmistakably alone. Standing in line with my own children I found myself compelled to figure out the motivation of this solitary man. As the horses slowed to a halt and the rush of happy children passed through the exit followed by the few stragglers that were ushered out by the two teenaged ride coordinators, we were given permission to mount the horses. I assisted my daughters to the horses of their choosing and watched the lonely man mount a horse near the outside of the platform. As the uplifting music began and the platform started to move the ponies started bouncing up and down and the sounds of joyous children filled the air, I stole a glance or was it a stare at the gentleman he slowly reached out without the slightest of emotion and grabbed at a small metal ring that was being dispensed, the rings were part of the thrill of the ride a rider who was mounted on the outside of the horse could grab a ring and toss it at a large clown face, if the rider was skilled enough he/she would be rewarded with a bright light on the clowns nose and a bell ringing. The man was skilled and I watched as his ring soared through the air flying right into the clown’s mouth causing the bell to ring and the nose to light up. He then slowly without emotion reached his hand up and waited a full revolution for his turn at another ring. I rode the carousel several times that day with my daughters and each time I saw the man riding alone grabbing the rings and tossing them. A few days later we returned for another day, but the man was not there, why was he there, and then all at once I picked up both of my daughters and hugged them dearly and though they have no idea why, I asked them never to let me ride the carousel alone.



STU - 2003

Masquerade Ball

“I will be back in a few minutes.” She said, leaving me standing alone leaning on a table loaded with dessert items, I took a cookie and glanced over at the room full of people. People who were loosely connected with me only by her, the retreating form now striding out into the night air. The DJ had just started a song, it was an 80’s tune, you know, the kind that brings that feeling of fun back from all those decades ago. The crowd was going full tilt; they had not even slowed down between songs. As I stared out into the mass of people the noise blended together to create an almost silence, a sort of overwhelming sense of tranquility came out of the chaos. I gazed into the motion, hardly aware of a single person in the room, rather the crowd moved as if it was a single being. Occasionally a single stomp or shout would permeate the pseudo silence, drawing attention to a single part of the beast. I slowly drew back into myself, and saw before me a gypsy dancing with an angel, a King and his Queen not far behind. And as the silence broke back into the roar of a party she returned, “Did you miss me?” she asked. I replied, “You have no Idea!”



STU - 10/25/2008.

Awkward

It is an awkward feeling. sort of like typing the word awkward.  This feeling can be felt in many places but none so pronounced as in a small crowded location such as coach on an airplane or in an elevator.  actually it is most awkward in a elevator when there is only one other person.  The feeling manifests itself by forcing your brain to desire to strike up a conversation, in an airplane it is easy you simply ask about the destination or are you flying for pleasure or whatever strikes your fancy, the elevator has a much shorter destination, by the time you say "Oh, I see you are going to the third floor."  Being the elevator signals the third floor, so to avoid small talk altogether you glance down at your feet or stare at the elevator buttons, the thing is once you start this pattern you brain has two separate inputs, one is prompting, "Say Something", the other is prompting "Don't Bother" I  once rode on a slow elevator for about 5 minutes and I could not reconcile the conflict for several hours afterwards, this would not have been so bad if I wasn't meeting someone at the top.  

"Hey Stu," He called, "Some view from up here isn't it".

Silence.

"Are you feeling well?"

I glanced up, but still nothing came out.

"It must be the altitude" asserted my friend.

It is nice how people will both fill in the conversations as well as fill in the missing details, this is a mechanism used to keep them from moving into the paradox of ' He likes me he likes me not'

STU - 2003