我不文静我是文静~: มกราคม 2550

แฟ้มประวัติ我不文静我是文静~รูปถ่ายบล็อกรายการ

เครื่องมือ

วิธีใช้

บล็อก

ข้อมูลสรุป

แสดงรายการตาม:

<< แรก < ก่อนหน้า ถัดไป > สุดท้าย >>

26 มกราคม

不远

不远~

17:11 | เพิ่มข้อคิดเห็น | อ่านข้อคิดเห็น (3) | ลิงก์ถาวร | จัดทำบล็อก

21 มกราคม

My grandparents were married for over half a century, and
played their own special game from the time they had met each
other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in
a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving
"shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them
discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.

They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar
and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next
meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking
the patio where my grandma always fed us warm,
homemade pudding with blue food coloring.
"Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after
a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath.

At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an
entire roll of toilet paper to leave shmily on the very last
sheet.

There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up.
Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on
dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The
notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows.
"Shmily" was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in
the ashes of the fireplace. This mysterious word was
as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.

It took me a long time before I was able to fully
appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has
kept me from believing in true love - one that is pure
and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents'
relationship. They had love down pat.
It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life.
Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate
affection which not everyone is lucky enough to experience.

Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could.
They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny
kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the
daily crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma
whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was,
how handsome an old man he had grown to be.
She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em."
Before every meal they bowed heads and gave thanks,
marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune,
and each other.

But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my
grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had
first appeared ten years earlier. As always,
Grandpa was with her every step of the way.
He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that
color so she could always be surrounded by sunshine,
even when she was too sick to go outside.

Now the cancer was once again attacking her body.
With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand,
they still went to church every morning.
But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally,
she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa
could go to church alone, praying to God to
watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally
happened. Grandma was gone.

"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of
my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned
and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles,
cousins and other family members came forward and
gathered around Grandma one last time.
Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket
and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her.
Through his tears and grief, the song came,
a deep and throaty lullaby.

Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that
moment. For I knew then that, although I couldn't begin to
fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness
its unmatched beauty.

S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me see.

By Laura Jeanne Allen

Reprinted by permission of Laura Jeanne Allen (c) 1998,
from Chicken Soup for the Couple's Soul
by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen,
Mark & Chrissy Donnelly and Barbara De Angelis, Ph.D.