We'll be ok....

"You know, it's ok to go," I said as I choked back my tears.  I am determined to be strong and present a non emotional front because I know that I am really treading out on thin ice so to speak with this subject.

Uncle Bill takes a deep breath and turns his head towards me.  Shockingly, he doesn't seem upset with me as I had expected he would.  Instead, I think I see a single tear escape the brim of his eyelid and roll unwanted down his cheek.

"Not yet. I can't. Who will take care of everyone? That's my job."

"Oh, Uncle Bill. You already have. You've been taking care of us all our entire lives. It's time for you to do what you need to for you," I said.

Uncle Bill looks at me with searching eyes and turns away pretending to fiddle with the bed controls as another tear escapes down the crease in his cheek. Waiting for both of us to gain control of our emotions I too turn away swallowing hard and hoping my tears would not fall.

Taking a slow, deep breath I say, "Uncle Bill. We would not be the people today without everything you have done for each of us. I mean look at Billy Joe and Collin. They are both happy and doing great.  Look at me. Did anyone ever think I would find a man as good as Chuck to take care of me and my kids?"

Sternly, he says, "No. You will never find another good man like Chuck." Uncle Bill has always been firm on this subject. I think it's because he doesn't have to worry about me or the kids.

"I know this is a tough subject but we have to talk about it. I promise we will be ok. You need to think of yourself for the first time in all these years. Think how happy you will be Uncle Bill." I am openly crying now and I don't care.  I want him out of pain and for him to be happy so badly.  "Uncle Bill, I know you don't want me to say all this." He turns and looks at me with what is clearly an unhappy, almost mad facial expression.

Taking a huge breath and going for the plunge I say, "Well, what do you expect me to do? I learned from the best how to take care of business and the ones I love.  And right now you, how you feel and how I love you are my business." I quickly look down at my lap fearful I may have gone too far with my words but knowing I am the only one that could get away with saying it. I take another huge gulp of air and say, "You should be proud of me. I learned and listened to you.  I am who I am and I do what I do because of you."

Looking down as if he were a tiger that had just realized his match he sighs.  Slowly, he brings his eyes back up to meet mine and he says, "I am proud of you, Janet."

I draw in what feels like the biggest, deepest breath I have ever taken and softly say, "Then trust that we will be ok and trust me when I say I promise you that I will make sure that everyone is ok."

Several minutes go by before I finally see or I think I see what is the tiniest nod of his head.  "Yes, you'll all be ok," he whispered.

It's a Croaker

It's a cold, gray miserable day as far as weather goes.  With the rain falling just enough to be a nuisance, the wind whips my hair and causing it to sting my face. Smoke bellows from the nearby chemical plants causing the sky to appear even more gray than it actually is. My nostrils fill with a mixture of chemical smoke and salt water as I take in a huge breath. I nearly slide down the muddy bank into the canal as I feel a jerk on my fishing pole. I excitedly begin to reel in my catch.

With careful instructions from Uncle Bill, I continue to reel in the line. After all he is the expert at this. For what feels like hours but really is only minutes I struggle to follow his directions perfectly. Not only am I filled with the excitement of catching this fish but also I secretly love the attention from my Uncle Bill.

Standing there in what is now pouring down rain, reeling in this fish with no one else around I am completely and totally the center of Uncle Bill's attention. What else could I ask for?

With the perfect amount of coaching and direction I finally pull the fish out of the water and proudly turn to peer into Uncle Bill's face. With a hearty laugh he grabs the fish and begins to take the hook out of it's mouth. It's scales catch the light and momentarily I think it certainly must be the best fish in the entire world because I think it's a rainbow fish!

And just then a very weird noise comes from it's belly. Wondering what the heck is going on I ask Uncle Bill,"What's that noise?"

Through his laughing he tells me to just listen.  I lean closer to the fish, wondering if it's actually a fish now. I mean how could that noise come from a fish? Still confused and not quite sure of what was going on I back up a bit and look up at Uncle Bill again. Once again, through his smirking Uncle Bill instructs me to listen.

Not really sure of what to do I just stand there and suddenly the horrendous thing croaked again! As Uncle Bill erupts into a full belly laugh I am feeling very confused and quite a bit insecure of myself. Tears are pulling at the corners of my eyes as I almost begin to cry. It's only then that Uncle Bill says, "Croaker! It's a Croaker!"  Suddenly, everything makes sense! As if I knew what he was talking about I thought,  of course, it's going to croak! It's a Croaker fish!

Now, I join in with the laughter and watch the fish flop on the muddy bank where Uncle Bill tossed it. We laughed for a few minutes more and I danced around to the noise of the croaking fish.  When a few more moments passed Uncle Bill bends over, picks up the Croaker and casually tosses it back into the cloudy water of the canal.

We both looked at each other and said,"Croaker!" and fell into a laughing fit.

Toasty Toes

I anxiously wait at the top of the apartment complex staircase.  Glancing down at my bare feet, my string tattered home-made-from-an-old-pair-of-jeans shorts, and my cousin's too-large t-shirt.  I shrugged at myself and turned my gaze back towards the sidewalk.

It wouldn't be long now before it would be Toasty Toes time.  My foot began to tap in that OCD manner which I was usually oblivious too unless someone pointed it out to me, usually in a firm WILL YOU STOP THAT tone of voice.

The sound of car after car pulled into the parking lot as the dad's of different families in the complex returned home after a long day at work in the chemical plants. Each time my heart beat would quicken as I strained to see down the sidewalk that turned the corner at the far end of the courtyard. Disappointment filled me as each burly figure turned the corner and I realized it wasn't the right person.

Oh, WHEN would he be home? My impatience was nearly driving me insane, if an 8 year old girl could go insane that is. Toasty Toes was OUR special time.  It belonged to none but us. Oh, some had joined us on occasion and others had even crinkled their noses at the mention of it, but not us.  It was a ritual; a bonding of sorts.  I knew without a doubt that for those few minutes our Toasty Toes time would be special.  We would laugh, talk and share silly jokes that usually no one else understood, but it didn't matter to me.  As I said, it was Toasty Toes time.

Just when I thought I would explode from anticipation I caught a glimpse of the one I was waiting for walking around the corner.  It was Uncle Bill! He glanced up, caught my eye and gave a quick smile.  You would think that I would jump up and run down the stairs to go greet him like in some sort of movie but nahhh that was for those foo-foo, girly types.  I wasn't foo-foo, dainty, or even girly.  Unfortunately, I was tall, skinny, and very clumsy.  Running down the stairs to greet him would most likely have ended in some sort of bloody mess aka me at the bottom of the stairs. So, instead, I waited excitedly at the top of the stairs for Uncle Bill to make the climb.

As he reached the top stair, Uncle Bill stopped looked at me and gave me a funny face.  A quick wink and he disappeared into the apartment. Like a lightening bolt I raced through the door behind him.  Depending on the day and what report Aunt Linda had to give him regarding my two cousins' behavior I often felt as if time had been stopped by some master clock ruler.  My mind wandered into the possibility that somewhere perched upon a high mountain was some evil little guy torturing me by controlling the hands of time.  He was visibly laughing at the agony he caused me knowing that because of his small size the only real power he had in his pitiful life was slowing, even freezing time for anxious little girls like myself.

To be continued...........