Friday, March 25, 2011

Happy Birthday, Pops!

Papa wasn’t gone long when his birthday rolled around. He always knew how to make everyone’s day special, and his day always kinda came and went without much ado. But this year, the whole family came together and put together a great care package to send off for him to let him know they were still thinking of him, no matter how far away he was.
His little bird gave him continuity. She flew closest among the other birds that he forever changed with his training and care, and she made sure to keep his spirit among them as they transitioned to other leaders of the sky.
His monkey gave him production. She worked hard to keep up with the many tasks he always handled so well, to make sure nothing fell through the cracks that his absence would leave. She also gave him revelry, to ensure him that people would not let life bring them down.
His worm sent him a little sorrow, to let him know how sorely he was missed. She also sent news of another little creature that would join the others in the brood who would lengthen his legacy and tell his stories for generations to come.
Papa’s turtle couldn’t think of anything to send, so he recorded a song for him. Returning the gift of rhythm his father had given him long ago, a promise to keep the beat alive was the greatest Indian gift.
The little ones sent their own treasures - the beautiful fox sent some grace, the tiger sent a story, the koala bear sent a hug, and the mouse shared some cheese. They snuck in a big, scary monster, too - just in case he missed playing their favorite game.
Nanny collected all these gifts and placed them in a big box. With all these presents, all she wedged in between the tissue paper and the ribbon was a small, little promise. A promise to keep on living the life that they lived together - a life of love, a life of joy, a life of let-downs, a life of laughter - a life big enough for the both of them - a life lived so high that its worth the pain of the fall. She sent a kiss and some fallen tears, but kept what remained of her heart - he already took some of that with him when he left. She closed up the box, put it out on the stoop, and knew it would get there, even if she didn’t know how.
They sang together, like the family often did, and wished their dad, their great Popopotomous, a Happy Birthday and knew he would love all of his gifts, as they loved and cherished each one he had ever shared with them.

1 comment:

Bishopband2 said...

Sandie ..... way to make a girl cry while sitting in the airport amongst strangers! You continue to amaze me with the many gifts and talents that you posess .... especially your gift of stories ..... Your writing is simply amazing! :)

I'm taking in all the happenings in Kansas City and saving you all the trouble . . . I'll let you know whether to soak it up or squeeze it out!!