Wading Barefoot

Rediscovering my barefoot-self

Three Cheers For Dad

Here in the last few hours before my husband wakes up I am scheming a way to make his morning a bit more special than usual.
Today is father’s day and judging by the skies it looks like that hike in the Columbia Gorge that his son was planning is going to have to be postponed. What to do now? …

I’m hoping he sleeps in today so I have time to get breakfast ready. Homemade biscuits with butter and honey. Mmmm, I’m hungry just thinking about it. I’ll get up here any minute and do just that but first I want to say happy father’s day to all you guys out there that help out at home and with the kids, who mend the fences and put out the fires. The dads who wear a uniform to work and they’re on duty day and night. That cop that just passed you has two little girls at home and that soldier in Kabul just got news that he has a son, born only yesterday. There is a neighbor of yours whose daughter is yet to be born and he watches this day pass and gets a little nervous thinking of next year, yet smiles at the thought.

Dads aren’t perfect, they say the wrong things and act all silly when they should probably be serious, but it’s not about what they do wrong – it’s about what they do right. Dads take time to listen, to teach you how to tie your shoes, to tell a story or stand by you when you’re in a bind. There are no substitutes for the role and you don’t have to be the parent of a child to be a dad. We call them stepfathers; they step in for a missing dad. Not meant to be a replacement, a step father must be a bit daunted by his task. After all most parents have about nine months to get used to the idea before parenting is upon them.

This father’s day I remember mine of course. Raymond Thomas Ryan, born after St. Patrick’s day, 1909 and died just before Thanksgiving in 1982. He had four sons and one daughter. He married my mother, built a house, raised his family and died of lung cancer, nine days after his 50 wedding anniversary. He was a truly good man who was terrified of not being worthy in the sight of his God but in my eyes he was a compass of both bravery and honor. He inspired me and fired my curiosity like no one else ever has. We’d sit at the kitchen table after dinner and plot out our (imaginary) trip across the United States on a map that covered half of the table. I got so excited thinking about the adventure and it fueled my imagination. It also gave me an uncanny sense of direction and that has been a valuable trait to have, thanks dad!

Happy Father’s Day

©Kathleen Ryan-McCullough

June 19, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

967 square feet

I sold my car in July of 2008 in order to pay bills and keep the lights on; I’ve been without transportation since. I used to love going for long walks but I haven’t been able to go much further than my own yard for the past 2 years. I have been stuck at home with my dog and Facebook for 3 years now, all 967sq.ft of it. You never really know yourself until you’ve had time alone, really alone, alone within your own mind. I’ve spent countless hours alone with my thoughts. I love solitude and aside from a few logistical difficulties, I am doing better than I think most people would.

One of those logistical issues is grocery shopping. It’s not that I have no friends or neighbors to hitch a ride to Safeway with, I have plenty of offers for a ride; they just don’t materialize. I’m frustrated with having to ask others to help me. I think that on some level they are frustrated that I ask for their help also. Usually I avoid asking and call a cab instead. It costs roughly $14 to go 1.3 miles round-trip! I know gas prices are high but that’s just highway robbery…pun intended.

One of the more memorable events to happen since selling the car happened in January of 2009 when I had to appear in court. Without a ride my husband had to push me in a borrowed wheelchair to the bus (about a mile away). It was one of those cool rainy mornings that turned into a cold and windy day. When we finally made it home, surviving both the court and the drenching gale, I had time to reflect on the events of the day. In retrospect I found that, when confined to a wheelchair, I become a bitch plain and simple. I don’t mean the kind that gets things done and is not really one at all. I mean the other kind and not the canine version either.

For example: We had trouble finding the handicap entrance to the courthouse. It’s sits on a steep hill and in order to go ‘around’ it involves lots of gravity, if you get my drift. My poor husband was pushing me up the hill and when I looked back at him I yelled, “stop leaning like that when you walk, you’re making me look fat.” Yes folks, I said that! …Bitch right? I know!

…to be continued.

© Kathleen Ryan-McCullough

May 29, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

   

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