Tag Archives: Grandparents

French Fries and a Chocolate Shake

by Jonathan Hilton

ffandshakeI can remember that day very clearly. I was sitting at the restaurant with french fries and a chocolate shake on the table in front of me, talking with my grandparents about my upcoming graduation from high school.

The reason I recall this day is not because of anything that was said, it was the feeling I had of becoming an adult and that my grandparents approved of the young man I was turning into and that made me feel good.

How did I know they approved? I suppose I didn’t for sure at that moment, but there are many other forms of communication that can’t be ignored.

His Name Was Leslie

My grandfather’s name was Leslie, I always thought how tough life must have been with

This is Leslie, I love this picture it shows his sense of humor, which I have inherited I think.
This is Leslie, I love this picture it shows his sense of humor, which I have inherited I think.

that name, but he did not give two shakes what anyone else thought about him.  It was one of the things that I was often embarrassed by as a kid and one of the things I remember most fondly today.

Thoughts of Leslie came up today, I was thinking about how do you know if someone you love who has passed away would be proud of you today? Leslie died in 1993 from complications from heart surgery.  It was unexpected, it was supposed to be a routine surgery, but there is nothing routine about any procedure as we found out.

I Never said Good bye

People of that generation were serious, they didn't express emotions much, it wasn't a proper thing to do. Leslie was great anyway!!
People of that generation were serious, they didn’t express emotions much, it wasn’t a proper thing to do. Leslie was great anyway!!

I never got a chance to say good-bye in person, and I have no idea how he really felt about me then. He was from a generation that didn’t talk about their emotions very much. You just had to kind of figure it out.  There were signs, but you had to look to see them.

Wondering now as I move along in life, I have faced difficult times. I have made mistakes. I have been far from perfect. I accept that, and I wonder often if Leslie and I could sit down and have a conversation today, what would he say?

I would ask, “Grandfather are you proud of me? Knowing all that I have done and been through.  I imagine the response goes something like this.

“I have always been proud of you, because you are the only one who can be who you are. You never saw my challenges and the struggles I had with my parents and finding my place in the world. I am not sure how I would have done in your shoes. I do know that where you are now, only you could get there, and I can’t wait to see what is going to happen in the future. I love you.”  I don’t remember him ever saying that to me in my life, but in my heart I just know he did. Why else would he do so many fantastic things for me?

Gone but Never Forgotten

That conversation is what I imagine and it affects me almost like it were real and not the whispering of a ghost.  In the end I guess it doesn’t matter, because I have to realize that I am a good person, I wouldn’t steal from you for any reason. I won’t lie if I can help it, (how does my hair look? If it looks bad, I don’t want to hurt feelings.) I would try to help anyone who needs it. In fact, when I look at the things like that I realize,

I am just like Leslie, and that makes me realize that even though he is no longer here, he lives inside of me and I owe it to him and all of my family to be the best human being I can be, including being proud of who I am and what I have become.

That is why I have no choice, when I eat an order of fries and a chocolate shake but to remember Leslie.  I smile and feel happy for who I am.

What is in the Box?

by Jonathan Hilton

The old box in the attic
The old box in the attic

It had been years since I had ventured into that attic   As I climbed the rickety pull down ladder my face was greeted with a musty, dusty smell and the cold air that stabbed my cheeks reminding me of the winter weather outside.  As my body became fully engulfed by the cold I tried to make it a quick visit. I was looking for my copy of To Kill a Mockingbird,  when something caught my eye.

It was a box. There was nothing about the box that separated it or made it seem that much different from the rest of the boxes in the attic, but the feeling I had was definitely not normal or routine.  I picked it up almost subconsciously and maneuvered my way back down to the warmth of the house below with the box still closed in my hands.

There was a Christmas excitement that I was feeling as I started to pull the top of the box open to see what treasure was held inside.  I am not sure if the contents glowed but there was a light that emanated from the container as I peeked inside.  It could have been real light for all I know or remember because inside were memories that hadn’t been disturbed in years and they were being resurrected today.

The Book

Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. Beat modernization but became a furnace in the end!
Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. Beat modernization but became a furnace in the end!

The first thing I pulled out of the box was a book. It was a children’s book and a pretty ordinary one at that, but it brought to life, experiences that occurred long ago.

It was called Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel.  The contents of the book didn’t matter as much as the words. As I flipped through each page, the voices of those who read those pages to me in my youth came back. Most of them from the grave.

I was awash in nostalgia and even the love a kid feels when someone takes the time to read a story to you. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and even some teachers voices rose from the page.

When I was child the best time of day was just before I went to sleep when my mother or father would read a story to us. It was a ritual that lit my imagination on fire.

I dreamed of castles, monsters and being a hero.  Those images crept back into my mind as I remembered my imaginary adventures from long ago.  I wondered how many kids today get to experience this now.

The Scrapbook

Phones looked like this. You dialed the numbers. It was slower yet better. Unless you dialed wrong.
Phones looked like this. You dialed the numbers. It was slower yet better. Unless you dialed wrong.

Anxiously I moved on, the next item was a scrapbook I had made in junior high of all of the pictures I could find with me in them. As most young people are, I suppose I was a bit self-centered at the time.

It hit me as I remembered teams I had played on or my seventh grade class picture, just how much life had changed.  Not one of the kids including me in those pictures had ever heard of a cell phone or a personal computer for that part.

Yet we managed to live our lives, make friends, go places, and have fun anyway.  I remembered how awkward it was to call someone’s house (from the phone attached to the wall) and have to talk to their mom to see if they were home.

Each of these pictures made me wonder how kids can manage to

This is Paddleball. Not much too it thank God.
This is Paddleball. Not much too it thank God.

pay attention at all today. They always have an electronic distraction within arm’s length.

I had a hard enough time concentrating when there was only a paddle ball to distract me.   If you are not sure what that is, see the image, but the point is I was easily distracted.

I looked at the kid I was and was happy for him that he had never dreamed of Facebook.  It was much more fun to talk to girls in person I think.

 My Former Friend

It doesn't matter how many people let you down, when a friend does it, it hurts.
The most painful feeling of looking for your friend and seeing only an enemy

The next item was not filled with pleasant memories. It was filled with pain and sadness. It was a homemade award that one of my best friends had given me.

It represented some joke between us. We used to work together and I thought we were very good friends.  It struck me that I had not seen nor heard from this person in over five years.

Something in my heart sunk as I thought about the temporary nature of all things in life and particularly the fleeting ideas of friendship. Why weren’t we friends anymore?  What had happened?

It all seems so silly now. There was this award, a joke shared long ago that now only echos in hollow silence.  They say that everything happens for a reason and some day perhaps I will understand the reason friendship ends, but it won’t be today.

The Game Changer

I was out of time and had to run, but I reached in the box one more time and this time I came out with a total shock. My collectors edition of thoughts by William George Jordan!  The book I think is only significant to me as my reading of it changed my life from one of a taker to one of a giver.

Reading opened doors in my mind I never knew were there.
Reading opened doors in my mind I never knew were there.

That book was the gateway for me into a world of wonder and wisdom. It planted the seed of an idea,  that every thought you form affected your experience in life was a concept that I had never conceived of, much less ever heard of before.

I recalled how as one book turned into another that philosophies started to make sense in my mind. I remember not only feeling more positive about life but more hopeful about the fate of the world.

There were greater powers available to mankind than simply watching tiny plays acted out on a television screen.  Learning is a lifelong thing and how much you want to learn is controlled only by your own personal desire and ability to put away your phone, turn off your television or computer and allow words to seep into your mind.  The reward is knowledge of anything you want.  Aladdin had a lamp, you have a book, each can make any wish you have come true.

The End

I closed the box and placed it in a very safe place and hurried off to my pressing appointment with work. Even though I left the room physically, my mind was still stretching back to what was inside that box.