Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "Every Dark Cloud has a Silver Lining" (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (02/28/08)
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TITLE: Shared Memories | Previous Challenge Entry
By Brigitte Hidalgo
02/29/08 -
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“I’m not sure this is the best place for fishing, eh?” The young man hollered from the nearby shore.
The old man turned to answer,“I been fishin’ here for close to 62, no lets see nearly 63 years... Much longer then you been livin’, fer sure.” The old man grinned. “In fact”, he continued, “I asked my Ginny to marry me right o’er there by that big ol’ rock” he pointed his knobby finger in the direction behind his young companion. He didn’t turn. He knew the rock. “My kids swung from that tree and dropped into this here lake all summer long!” The old guy pointed overhead growing more animated. “And my boy, Danny...he would dive head first! Now he was a great swimmer that boy, yes he was.”
“Sounds like a nice life,” responded the younger man.
“Ohh, geez...the best life! Boy, I tell you, God’s been good to this here ol’ soul.” A flicker of a memory passed over the wrinkled old face. He opened his mouth to speak but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. He closed his mouth abruptly.
The young man stood surveying the expanse of the lake. He watched as the old guy’s boat teetered back to the shore. He watched the slouched figure awkwardly step out to the rocks and tie his boat to the post that had been there probably as long as the old man.
With craggy limbs, the man grabbed his pole out of the boat and headed up the worn path. He scuffled along humming a song he used to know.
With a sudden stop he remembered the young fellow. “Hey guy, ya want some lunch? My Ginny makes a mean meatloaf sandwich!” He called to the man who seemed captured by the lakes sacredness. He dragged his stare from the landscape to the ancient smiling face.
“You know, that sounds good!” He answered and followed behind.
“Hey, I never got your name...?” The old man questioned as they entered the tidy home.
“James Daniel Barton!” The old woman squealed with delight. “How long have you been here?”
“Oh just about 20 minutes” he answered as Gigi crushed him with a mighty hug.
Gigi was what all the grandkids called her. She was Grandma Ginny, which Ella, James’ older sister had quickly shortened to Gigi when she was 6.
“Papa, this is Jimmy...” she explained to the old man, “Danny’s boy!” He searched the young mans face for something to trigger but no memory came.
“That’s okay Papa,” James looked into his grandpa’s face. The old man smiled. He didn’t know this kid, but he knew he liked him.
“Oh, his memory is getting worse,” she whispered behind her hand. “He is healthy as can be, but it’s the alzheimers.”
James sat with his grandpa over two heaping meatloaf sandwiches. His “Papa” told him story after story of his younger years. James enjoyed it mostly when Papa told him stories about his father. He told the story of when Danny wanted to help mow the yard when he was 8 and somehow mowed Ginny’s flower garden too! He remembered that Danny had been Joseph in the Christmas pageant in 5th grade. He recalled Danny’s many swimming and diving awards throughout highschool. He knew Danny married Sarah when only 21 years old. He remembered they had a daughter a year later and a son 19 months after that. But what the old man didn’t remember was that Danny had died in a boating accident at the age of 26.
Ginny walked in the kitchen. “Look who’s here Ginny,” grandpa Barton exclaimed, “...it’s Jimmy, Danny’s boy!” He hugged his grandson fiercely to his chest. James smiled pressing his face into his grandfather’s sweater. He let the tears flow, happy his papa remembered him, but mostly grateful the old man had shared with him memories of his dad.
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