Counting (appreciating) blessings

Precious Blessings

 

My fortieth year, I received another blessing in this life: the birth of  grandson Z.Tyler!

Thick, wavy, jet black hair, bright brown eyes, a ruddy complexion and a grand smile.

“Love at first sight”? You bet! He stole my heart and never let go of it. Heaven! Within a short time, his hair turned platinum-blonde framing an angelic cherub face. Handsome Z. Tyler!

My second celebration was to quit my “day” job; we spent the next eighteen teen years together; Z. Tyler took us on a joyous journey through baseball, soccer, golf, ice hockey. I took the “sick” boy out of school so we could cheer on the Cardinals at Busch stadium. At twelve, he drove my red Ranger pickup truck. We played ice hockey on the frozen surface of a pond I built.

His Nanny taught him to “play ball” in the front yard of our Oregon home when he was only two; I bought him golf clubs and showed him the basics as soon as he could walk. When he was “sick”, again, on numerous occasions, I took him out of school and we’d play golf; somehow, Z. always drove the cart as soon as we were over the hill out of sight of the clubhouse. Hmmm!

Mornings in Oregon, our trio, Z. Tyler, Nanny and “Bapa” would trek off to the local driving range down by the Willamette River to hit a bucket of balls. I confess here that I might  have “fudged” just a bit on the score card when we played a round at the course; by the time he was twelve, I didn’t have to “cheat”---I couldn’t beat him…by sixteen he was hitting 300 yard drives.

My “shadow-buddy” shared some wild times and great adventures with “the old man”. Wow!

When Z. was two, I promised him a tractor ride upon my return one winter evening. Little did I know that the temperature would plummet and a blizzard would kick up. Above all the logical dissent to my decision and among the myriad complaints, I bundled the boy in several layers of heavy clothing, wrapped him in a blanket, fired-up the old silver machine and went snow surfing.

We played hours of baseball, rode horses, hiked, built “tent” cities in the house utilizing bed spreads covers and sheets weighted down with books and held up by chairs. I got him a Ruger stainless steel .22 caliber rifle on a Mannlicher walnut stock topped with a variable power stainless scope. Talented in every possible discipline, that boy could shoot. Since I loved deer hunting and learned some about nature and her ways on my hunting forays through a lifetime, I got Z. a 20-gauge shotgun when he was sixteen intending to teach him a bit of what I had learned in the wiles; turns out, the boy is so kind hearted that he did not want to shoot a deer, or, any other living creature, either, and I respect his choices. The boy is of exemplar character with a good heart; this young man is truly “worthy”, like the other diamonds on my golden crown.

My favorite line to highlight my love for him is: When (if) I grow up, I wanna be just like Z.

Z. Tyler has taken to coming over and mowing my lawn because---he needs the exercise! Wow! Thanks for being kind to an old man; I appreciate the selfless effort; you do it better than I can, anyway! (I’m watching---maybe…sometime, I’ll learn to do as good a job as you do?)

I find myself surrounded by “quality” personalities, white souls, exhilarating spirits.

Certainly, I am both blessed and thankful for each of them; still, they exaggerate my faults.

So, I need to try harder---and…I do. Constantly! Fortunately, I have Perfect paradigms to emulate; hopefully, a bit of their elegance and class will adhere to Humble-I.

Well! Maybe my intellect, such as it is, leaves a lot to be desired. Maybe? Still, I am surrounded by “saints” and “angels”; I do know enough to Thank God for my blessings. Amen!

I love each of you more than life, itself; you all make my perfect life---complete.

That I love each of you , I pray,  is evident. Your obvious love for me offers tomorrow’s hope.

 

Amen!