Inspiration

As a child I often visited my maternal grandparents. Grandpa and I were magnificent pals. He taught me to spit and say ‘ain’t.’ Hand in hand, we would walk the three blocks to the ancient town square. We made predictable layovers at Junior’s Bakery, Uncle Fred’s Drugstore, and the Dime Store. I never returned to the house empty-handed.

Sometimes, I spent hours swaying to-and-fro, and back-and-forth in my Grandpa-created tire swing. With each movement, I imagined flying upward into the fluffy mass of whiteness, shouting orders to the Universe from on-high. My pal also built me a treehouse nestled in the thick branches. Securely suspended above the ground, I picked and threw the tree’s maturing, green walnuts further than any human being. At Grandpa’s, I could be anything I wanted.

At night, we would lay in bed, side by side, and talk about our day. I would say, “Grandpa, tell me a story.” His creative meanderings were always about rabbits. I listened intently as furry animals chased one another all over town, ate the lettuce in Grandpa’s garden, and somehow climbed up the ladder of the water tower to create mischief. Just as the tales would gain momentum, Grandpa would begin to doze off to sleep, his voice dwindling into a rumble like the freight train south of town. I would clear my throat loudly, or accidentally nudge him, and his voice would once again become animated. I loved his stories about himself and those fantastical rabbits.

At an early age, I realized the wonder and redeeming qualities of stories–some made up, some read from a book, and others just shared out of one’s own experiences. It is said our brain recalls stories more easily than facts. They are indelibly shaped and scripted in our mind, heart, and soul. Wherever we are, at any given time, there is a story.

I offer my stories to you. They relate to the seasons of our lives. Enjoy them. Reflect on them. See what sparks insight, illumination–perhaps even an “Aha!”

—David Dalke, author of Don’t Miss It