Weekly Wordzzle

It’s Wordzzle time! I was trying really hard to write a dramatic piece for my dad, but I just couldn’t do it. It started out dramatically, but then it drifted on over into melodrama, or comedy. Sorry Daddy – I don’t think I’m going to be able to do it.

Since I was working on a longer piece I used all the words together instead of doing separate stories. Please go to Raven’s Nest to check out the other stories!

Words for the week: sharp as a tack, paper towels, sage, boiling water, mystery, salivate, news worthy, try it on for size, pardon, ambulance, misery, saga, flat as a pancake, pearls, octagon

Looking back, I see that there is a mystery to this “memory.” Perhaps what I thought was newsworthy then hasn’t stood the test of time. Don’t get me wrong, I still think it’s quite a saga, if only of interest to me. So why am I casting these personal pearls before you? Perhaps in the vain hope that sharing my misery will lessen its sting.

In 1964 I was working on my father’s dairy farm. My young bride was about to give birth to our first child. I had been up since dawn being a dairyman and now I was expecting to deliver this child. I had an intense desire to bring new life into the world with my own hands.

My wife was not amused by my intention, muttering, “You’re going to try to be a doctor! Try it on for size! I’ll try you on for size! WW, I am not too sure about this at all. I know you think you’re sharp as a tack, but begging your pardon, I haven’t really known you all that long. Have you ever delivered anything other than a calf?”

“Now CJ,” I admonished, “I’ve got the pot ready for boiling water, the paper towels to clean up the mess, and the sage to put under your pillow to keep you grounded.” I could understand her concern, but she didn’t know how the thought of delivering my own child made me salivate. My plan had eight points, an octagon of a plan, if you will. But I never had the chance to implement even one of the points. While I was gathering my supplies, CJ was calling the ambulance.

In the hospital several hours later, my dream flat as a pancake, I fell asleep in the waiting room.

A few years ago I talked to CJ about that day. She remembered me falling asleep, but not that I wanted to deliver the baby at home. I wonder now, was this dream deferred really just a dream I had napping in the hospital? Perhaps I’ve spent my life regretting the loss of an experience that I only dreamed I wanted. Perhaps. On the other hand, I have a pregnant niece – I wonder if she would let me deliver her baby?