Saturday, June 18, 2011
Grace is visited by Bubby - Charitable donations for dad's day insteada gift!
Back permitting, I get out in the world.
Was just online w/my friend Coach Iris, the poet, sending her the first draft of my poem Misery at the Pennypack.
She lamented that she rarely gets time to be alone. In addition to her husband, she lives w/ one of her four children and her grand-daughter Gabby.
I commiserated w/her and said I'm ALWAYS alone and love it.
I've got the front door open, five feet away from me, so feel I'm part of the neighborhood.
Called Dan and asked if I could come over.
When he doesn't answer the phone, I email him.
Sure, he said. Here are the photos of baby Grace.
When I got there, the lil bookworm had her nose in a book.
Dan asked me to watch her while he did the dishes.
At ten months, she crawls everywhere. She headed into the dining room w/me crawling behind her.
Where was she going? What did she remember as particularly fascinating? Or, was she gonna try and find her dad.
She pulled herself up on her high chair.
It rolled. A bit. Whew. I stopped her from falling. Whew. I was in charge now. A regular Alexander Haig or Joe Biden.
More than anything, she wanted to grab the straps and buckles that held her inside the chair.
She could only reach them, fondle them, but not, lordy, lordy, put them in her mouth.
Oh no! she thot. If only I could feel that metal and the textured feel of the strap in my oh-so-sensitive mouth that is busy contemplating the world.
Since she was standing, holding on, she somehow got one leg tangled in the leg of the high chair.
Oh no, thinks I. She'll never be able to figger out how to extricate herself.
When I looked again, she'd figured it out.
Hmmm, maybe she'll join the high-flying Wallendas. Trapeze artists for those of you who, unlike me, are not geriatric patients.
Carried her into the living room where she found my car keys. Yum, she said. This Cape May keychain is so smoooth. Satisfied she'd be okay for five seconds, I pulled out her toy piano and began banging away.
These are the hands that once played Bach preludes, Beethoven sonatas, and composed many children's songs such as Hey Ho the Witch is Dead, when we lived in Shaker Heights.
One of the items on my bucket list is to take up the piano again. Better do it before August 3, Ruthie.
As I drove home, some fantastic music came on the radio. Am I the only one, or does music make your thoughts soar and bring out the best in you?
I know what I'll get Dan for father's day.
I made an online donation to this wonderful organization that helped me many times over the years when I was short on funds.
I was in an esp'ly philanthropic mood lately and also donated to the Bread and Roses social activist Foundation and the NRDC, a gift to my brother/law Danny where Scott and I will celebrate Father's Day.