The Eyes See, The Heart Interprets

Truck drivers are tough, hard working folks who get the job done. You won’t find them getting all emotional over some ‘silly’ memory…or will you? In today’s ‘Bits of Bill‘ post, I’ll look at a bit of reality that my dad came face to face with.

As relayed in a ‘unique’ bio penned by my dad, he was born in his parent’s home in Pasadena, CA in 1926. A few doors down and across the street, was where my mom came to live after being born a little less than three months before my dad. Their proximity had much to do with the relationship that developed but that’s a tale for another time.

About fifty years after the McIntyre family had left their Steuben Street home, dad returned, although, according to his own words, without prior planning. In ‘A Tree for Tomorrow’, one of his many short stories, he tells us,  “It wasn’t my idea, you know.  Major construction had the freeway tied up, so I exited a few miles before my regular off-ramp.  That’s it, nothing else!  Well… okay, the last two blocks were out of my way, but I really didn’t plan it!”

What he found was his birthplace and childhood home being prepared for demolition. As it was late in the day and no workmen were on site, he went inside to investigate. Though dealing with some apprehension, several things he saw brought vivid, satisfying memories, which I include below in his own words.

  • Fireplace: “Several bricks bore the stains of melted crayon, while crumbling mortar and gaping holes were the only evidence of others long lost.  Although the years had done no favors for the once proud mantel, nothing could dim my recollections of that first Christmas when I was allowed to hang my stocking there.”
  • Kitchen: “A doorway had been moved to make way for additional cupboards.  But the sink was still on the east wall beneath the windows.  It was from there that my mother had watched my play while she worked.”
  • Master Bedroom: “My memories were of stormy nights when I would rush to cuddle safe and warm between my parents in that wonderfully enormous bed.”
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When his visit had ended, and it was later recorded in ‘A Tree for Tomorrow’, dad had this to say about the experience…

“Tomorrow, the house will be reduced to rubble, the tree will fall, and both hauled away to be burned or buried.  In a matter of months, weeks or even days, all evidence of the former will have vanished.  I will sense the loss, but the sun will rise and set in its usual manner, and I will go about my life much as before.  I will find comfort in the assurance that this house, and its memories, will live forever in the hearts of those others who, like me, became a part of it.”

Actually, there was more to the story than the preceding quote and that brings me to my final thoughts…

  1. Read ‘A Tree for Tomorrow’ – A little over a year ago I started giving away one of dad’s short stories to anyone who wanted one and if you request this story, you’ll get to read the ‘surprise’ ending.
  2. Get Three Free Stories – Just subscribe to my email updates and select from six stories of dad’s available. Spoiler Alert – One of them is ‘A Tree for Tomorrow’
  3. Learn More about My Project – Find out some of the things I’m doing to get dad’s historical novel, “Bluebell”, published.

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