A humble and grateful confession! Many months ago, when I had completed and had published my third book, Lofdoc's Stories: Short and Sweet, with the subtitle "An Octogenarian's Oracles," I was asked the question "Will this, your third book, be your final contribution to the world of literature?" I responded by saying, "I would love to continue exploring new vistas, but the laws of nature will always have the final say; after all, I am eighty-nine years old." Well, now, the rest of the story. I guess I am no different than anyone else; after all, we are all birds of a feather, are we not? When the mountain climber was asked "Why do you climb mountains?" his answer was "Because it is there." And so it is with me. I write because I am still here. But I confess that I reverently hope that I would still be around to continue to tell you the "rest" of my stories. So yes, dear reader, I have poured many hours of pure joy into this, my fourth book. There are stories titled "Crying Out in the Wilderness," "The Ten Armed Swimmer," "Quackery," "The Sand Dollar," "Treasures of a Nursing Home," etc. I have tried to be accurate, sincere, and entertaining. I have given you a new world of thoughts and remembrances that you will hopefully embrace and enjoy. I sincerely believe this, my fourth volume, represents the best of all my lifetime literary efforts. I hope you will embrace and enjoy my little stories as much as I have loved writing them. I now give you Lofdoc's fourth book. Oh, by the way, perhaps you might want to know about my use of the name Lofdoc as my pseudonym. No secret. I love fishing, so Lots of Fishing Doc. Yes, I am a retired doctor of medicine. I had practiced medicine (solo) for over thirty years in Ohio. I now devote most of my time caring for my medically wounded angel, my wife of sixty-five years. Andrew Opritza, MD, FACP
Poor Lofdoc's Almanac
Short and Sweet
By LofdocAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2016 Andrew Opritza
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5246-1603-8Contents
PROLOG, IX,
A HELPING HAND, 1,
A LETTER, 4,
A PICTURE, 6,
A TERRIFYING EVENING, 8,
BE PATIENT, BE PATIENT!, 11,
BIRDS, BIRDS, BIRDS, 13,
BRAIN, BRAWN OR, SKILL, 15,
CHARITY, 18,
CONGRATULATIONS, 20,
CRYING OUT IN THE WILDERNESS, 22,
EDUCATION, 25,
EXCUSES, 28,
FIDELITY, 31,
GIVING THANKS, 33,
GOING HOME, 35,
GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS, 38,
HANGIN IN THERE, 41,
HOME FOR CHRISTMAS, 44,
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS, 47,
HORNETS, 49,
HUMILITY, 53,
INTEGRITY, 56,
KINDNESS, 59,
LIFE'S TIMELINES, 61,
LONELINESS, 64,
MEMORIAL DAY, 67,
MEMORIES LOST, 70,
MEMORIES OF YEASTERYEARS, 72,
MOURNING DOVES, 77,
MY BROTHER'S KEEPER, 79,
OLT TOO SOON SCHMART TOO LATE, 82,
"OUT OF THE BLUE", 85,
PERSEVERANCE, 89,
QUACKERY, 93,
REINCARNATION OF A SINGER, 97,
RELUCTANTLY, HE HANDED OVER THE KEY, 102,
SO YOU WANT TO BE AN AUTHOR, 105,
SOUPS ON!, 108,
THANK - YOU, 110,
THE CLOCK -- A CONTINUUM, 113,
THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS (DAY), 117,
THE EASTER BASKET HUNT, 119,
THE FOUR PICTURE STORY, 122,
THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER, 129,
THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING IMPORTANT, 132,
THE LIFE AND LOVES OF JAZZY, 135,
THE LOVE STORY, 137,
THE PASSAGE OF TIME, 140,
THE REDEYED DRUMMER, 143,
THE RELUCTANT HEALER, 146,
THE RHODODENDRON AFFAIR, 149,
THE ROSE OF SHARON, 153,
THE SAND DOLLAR, 155,
THE SINGER, 159,
THE SWAN, 162,
THE TEN ARMED SWIMMER, 164,
THE WORLD OF YESTERYEAR, 167,
THINGS HAPPEN, 170,
THINKING MAKES IT SO, 172,
TREASURES OF A NURSING HOME, 174,
WE ALL HAVE DREAMS, 177,
WELCOME, 180,
WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES AROUND, 182,
WHEN DID IT ALL START?, 185,
WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN, 189,
WHY, AND WHEN, TO WRITE A BOOK, 193,
SO, WHY CAN'T WE DREAM?, 196,
WINNERS AND LOSERS OF THE WORLD, 198,
YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE, 200,
YOU NEVER KNOW, 203,
CHAPTER 1
A HELPING HAND
Recently, I had written a whimsical short story about a swimmer with ten arms titled, 'the ten armed swimmer'. It is a lowly (simple) story about the life and adventures of a squid – yes, a squid – it is just an interesting story, with a fetching title. But, the story I am about to relate to you, has much more substance and human emotions intertwined — with -- 'a helping hand' and kindness.
One need not look too far afield, to read or hear of a story documenting someone's kindness – heralding 'a helping hand' performing a good deed. Needless to say, 'the everyday' 'helping hand', such as helping someone carry a package, or opening a door for someone, is appreciated and welcome; but, every so often, a helping hand, is so much more; it is an act of love performed without hesitation, or concern, for personal welfare and safety; -- more -- anon.
The "Helping hand," may not even be a hand; the helping hand may be a smile that helps penetrate the deep gloom of a person in despair. "The helping hand" may be a handshake of friendship, or it may simply impart a nudge, or encouragement to a faltering friend's need for understanding and support. And, not the least important, a helping financial hand may be, at times, a critical life saver.
One need only visit a hospital, a nursing home, or a home for the indigent, to affirm that the aphorism 'but for the grace of God, go I', is alive and well today; the human spirit of caring, understanding, and brotherly love can be seen, at every turn of life's journey.
But, hold on, as in most life riddles, there are twists and turns that often muddle, even more, life's realities. Yes, there may be many gentle, extended helping hands, but sadly, the very persons (the elderly and infirmed), that are most in need of support and caring are the very ones, who, willingly, reject the kindness extended to them. It appears that the elderly population may be said to be either, of an "independent" or "dependent" frame of mind; the latter group do blessedly, and gladly, accept the offered helping hand. Tragically, the 'independent' senior citizen will not "Cry out in the wilderness" (crying out to the world around him for help); no, it isn't because he / she rejects kindness, and the mercy of the helping hand, but right or wrong, believes, that he / she should not be a burden to the ones they love. However, if one would look closely, you would hear their silent crying out, in desperation and futility.
A recent event, during one cold and snowy day, prompted me to revisit, and praise, this life altering, human expression of love – THE HELPING HAND.
If you have ever experienced a time of total isolation, you will understand my deep frustration, when, after parking my old car in the garage for the night, noticed steam pouring out from under its hood – a sure sign of -- Oh, oh. To make matters worse, it was very cold, and a heavy blanket of snow made travel very difficult. Under normal circumstances, the problems this eighty-eight year old encountered would be solved — sooner, or later, but time was of the essence. I must go to the nursing home, twice a day, to feed my ailing eighty-six year old wife her daily lunch and dinner – so, what to do?
Yes, I did, in desperation, send an e-mail to my son who lives about 50 miles from me, asking for advice about my faltering car.
I'm sure you already know, "the rest of the story. "
Yes, early the next morning, I heard a commotion up on the driveway sure enough, there, was my son, removing the deep piles of snow that had accumulated the previous days (I had been unable to use the shovel, because of severe back pain). After he had finished the snow removal, he checked the car, and added antifreeze to the radiator cooling system; he then went to the nursing home to give his mom – a helping hand.
There are many wonderful gifts that are given and received in this world; but the most precious gifts of all:
Are the love and friendship, of family and friends;
Who unhesitatingly offer --
THE LOVE --- OF A HELPING HAND.
CHAPTER 2
A LETTER
Isn't it strange? Isn't it strange that the simple task of writing a letter can be torture for some folks, and a blessing, for others? Do you think it's the result of something in our genes? I suppose we will never know for a certainly; but, for better or worse, we will, all of us, write a bunch of letters in our lifetime. And, there is one thing, for sure; the letter is a permanent record of our thought process' at the time of inscribing, and reveals just a smidgeon of our DNA – the letter is a unique reflection of 'who we are'.
It is an obvious fact that there are a 'zillion' reasons for writing a letter, but the most rewarding, and treasured letter, is the one with ' heart' (the one with love and caring). No, I'm not referring, necessarily, to carnal love; I'm referring to the 'love to make a life' – just a little bit happier, and better, for someone. Ah, now we have the reason why I have embarked on this 'tale of prose', titled, "A Letter".
In the following paragraphs, I will write a letter, to my now adult granddaughters, who seem to be confused, uncertain and are...
