The power of love

The feckin hot water heater is not working. This is the 2ND time in 6 mos, the damn thing has quit working. So here I sit, dirty and stinky, waiting for Lowes to open and hoping to all the Gods I am aware of that they have the part I need. Mr. Johnson at Whirlpool corp. assures me that they do, Lowes website, assures me that they do not. Take this advice and never, ever purchase a hot water heater made by Whirlpool, unless you enjoy going without hot water every six freaking months. I will be replacing the thing as soon as I am able. Which will be approximately when my tax refund is deposited into my account. GRRRRRRRRRR.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep, I was thinking about the different names for couches. Well, this is what I call that long thing in the living room that my dog thinks is his personal doggie bed. Seriously, he will growl at you if you try to sit on it. He thinks it is his and his alone. I digress, I was thinking maybe what you called the couch depends on where you are from. My ex-b/f called it a sofa, he is from up north, my dad also calls it a sofa, he lives in the Southeast. I call it a couch as do most of the people I know, I live in Oklahoma. My granny always called it the divan but she was from Arkansas so that blows my theory all to hell.

This line of thinking led me to a particular Saturday morning when I was a wee lassie. I was up sitting on my granny's divan, wrapped in my favorite blanket, having Pepsi and a snickers bar watching my favorite TV, Looney Tunes or maybe the Jetsons, man I loved the Jetsons. Anyway, my brother and my cousin were up and in the spare room, doing God knows what, but making a lot of noise, when all of the sudden my Popa comes walking in. Popa was a big bear of a man with a temperament to match. He did not like ice chewing, horse play or noise. We were not expecting him, as most Saturday mornings, he left before dawn even cracked an eyeball and would stay at the local tire shop all day long. Hey, this was Sperry, OK there wasn't much to do. I digress again, Popa came walking in, he smiled at me and told me what a good little girl I was and headed straight for my two best friends in that particular version of my world. As I mentioned before there was a lot of noise coming from the spare room and much to the displeasure of my Popa, there was gasp.....HORSE PLAY going on. Now truth be told, the two of them were probably just jumping off the bed, clad only in their underroos and a pillowcase cape pretending to be a Super hero or GI Joe.

My grandfather was not against playing by any means, you could jump off the roof for all he cared, as long as you didn't hurt yourself (this would be an inconvenience and prohibit beer drinking and watching Quincy MD, Dragnet, Mannix, Hawaii Five O or a host of other cop shows) and you were not jumping on the bed or divan, and you were OUTSIDE. Unfortunately for my best friends, they were committing 3 Cardinal sins, they were INSIDE, JUMPING ON (OR OFF) THE BED, MAKING NOISE. What happened next? My Popa yelled for all to hear, that my beloved cousin and brother were HORSE'S ASSES, this HORSEPLAY would end immediately and oh the horror, there would be no Saturday morning Lifesavers for them, his favorite and best grandchild would be getting their Lifesavers. Man, oh man, was this the best Saturday morning ever? I loved Lifesavers, and now I had 3 rolls, all to myself. Two fruit flavored and my very favorite Butterscotch. I ate every one of those fruity, butterscotchy, delicious discs with a smile on my little ornery face. ..nevermind the tummy ache that was sure to ensue.

Book 'em Danno...judgement was passed.

The horse's asses were ordered to sit on the divan , watching sadly and with longing, me eating their Lifesavers and having to watch what I, best granddaughter in all the universe, wanted to watch. I thought this only fair as they had, with their shenanigans interrupted my favorite time of the week. Saturday morning cartoons and Pepsi were for me, what beer and cop shows were to Popa.

I'm fairly certain I was later busted for ice chewing. I never got in trouble with Popa though, he would just shake his head and say "don't do that, it's not good for your teeth, little girl". Then he would pat my head and send me to jump off the roof.

I miss my Popa dearly, he was my champion and believed I could do anything. He was always proud of his grand kids, even when they were horses asses. We all loved him very much and were very proud of him.

I got to spend a lot of time with grandfather one year as an adult, I was not working, lived with my mother in the sticks and had to drop my kids off at school in Tulsa every day. So, I would head over to my grandparent's house to spend the day. Nothing much exciting ever took place, we would head to Skiatook or Sperry to have lunch at a cafe, but I treasure this time more than I can express in words. My Popa developed Alzheimer's and didn't remember who I was. I became "that pretty lady who looks like my mother". He didn't remember who any of us were. He did however, always remember that we were his people.

Popa couldn't remember to breathe or make his heart beat, but he never, ever forgot that he loved us and that we loved him.

Run off and tell someone you love them and give them a hug, you never know what might become.... The one person I really want to confess my love to is not here and I'm unsure it's something he needs to hear right now anyway. Or maybe, I am just afraid. I've always believed love took time and there is not much time between the two of us. I don't believe that anymore. But my fear and my desire to get this right this time, leaves me silent and searching the heart I had no use for, until my eyes fell upon my love's beautiful, sweet face.

I made a wish, I said it out loud. Maybe tomorrow, maybe someday.

Love,
Cow Punk