Still Just a Boy

 

My son and I sat in the early evening on the front porch… summer was here and the warm breeze held us outside for a passing moment.

Cody has left our nest and is busy creating his own… he is consumed with the every day details of owning his new home and balancing his life.

We talked about the bills and we talked about plans for the future and we talked about work and family. He looked to the driveway and looked to the skies as we spoke. He is a man on the outside…

We sat in the quiet for a moment and he moved across my view… he moved with purpose and joy. And then I saw them too… the summer’s lightning bugs. They pulsed in and out of my eyes as I tried to follow their trek.

I watched Cody run through the grass with hands waving and eyes wide open… he jumped and gasped like he was still just a boy. And I remembered him in his youth with dew-drops of perspiration pooling on his cheeks as he chased the young summer’s lights…

                                                                   Shannon R Killman

the Way to My Immortality

a note to my son-in-law Jake

I’ve spent my entire adult life looking after my children. I watched them come into this world and have spent every moment of their lives concerned upon their well being. I have cradled and hugged them… I have held their hands and watched them as they slept. I’ve cried with them and laughed with them. I wondered how there was any more room in my heart for each one after the other.

When they were young, I was involved in the every day things of their lives. I read to each one of them and tucked them into bed. I was there to help them dress and to cook for them and feed them. I was there to keep them safe and try to look to their future for them… it was all consuming.

As I got older, and the children became independent and didn’t need my direction, I felt like I was loosing something. It was as though I was loosing parts of myself… the parts of myself that they had added to me. I could only watch as they grew and hope that they had learned the proper ways of life.

As I watched my Grandparents age into their twilight, I saw my mortality. As I watch my parents follow the path of their parents I can feel my mortality. And I ponder upon the future.

And that’s when we found you. It wasn’t an accident... nothing is an accident. Natalie talked about you… her eyes were bright and full when she spoke your name. You made her happy… you took her breath. And she loved you… and we love you. There is always room in our hearts for another child… another son. And now I realize the way to my immortality. It will be through you…

Happy birthday son…
                                       Shannon R Killman                        

Still Young and Strong

My oldest memory of a man of my family was my Great-grandfather Baker. He was an immigrant from Germany. He was a hard working man. He stood strong with his family and watched the years bring children and grand children and great grand children to him.

I can only remember him in foggy snapshots of time. I was too young to understand why he could no longer speak. I would sit with Grandma Baker as she fed him soft food and watch him as he slowly chewed. He would smile with his eyes as I asked my grandma why he didn’t swallow. His old chair held him tall and thin. I remember the chirping of the wood as it rubbed against itself.

He was old… my grandfather aging and strong… my father seemed young and strong and I was still young.

My grandfather Killman was a hard working man. He raised his family and after a tragic accident, he raised his brother’s children as his own. I remember his laughter and also his stern words that confused me as a boy. He kept us guessing. He didn’t hold us tight like my grandmother did… but he told us he loved us and we knew.

Time was slow against him. I watched him grow thin. His face was smooth but time took his strength. At one time I had to reach up to hug his neck. In his last of years I would stand with him and hold him to my chest. He would tell me that he was old and he knew his time was coming.

My grandfather was old… my father aging and strong… I was young and strong and my children were still young.

My father has always been a man of men. He had the chest of a bull and the strength of two. I knew to always be on the ready… Dad would clamp his hand over my knee and make me squeal in laughter and pain. His hands were strong… his voice was strong. His opinions were strong. And when I look to the mirror, I see his face. Time is pulling on him now and we only talk about it in short conversation. He speaks of God and he speaks of forgiveness. He directs in the ways of love and patience…

My father seems old to me now… I am aging and strong… my children are still young and strong… and it continues…

                                                          Shannon R Killman