For some reason, I was telling my children recently the sketchy story of Poppy as the Green Hornet. The details escape me. Dad, in his childhood, somehow decided he would try his hand at flying—without an airplane. Possibly prompted by a green cape and a masked superhero vigilante named the “Green Hornet” (and I’m sure without any encouragement from brothers, nephews, cousins!), Dad took to the roof. The outcome of the flying attempt has become a forgotten minor detail. I told the children that Poppy had told me some about that “Green Hornet” experience, but Grammy might not even know. We’d have to ask Uncle Virgil now; Poppy won’t remember. Today, I asked Dad about it. “Remember the Green Hornet, Dad?” As he watched me with those blue eyes, I silently begged him to remember.
Please, say you remember. One small memory. Tell me something, ANYthing. Nothing. A slight shake of his head told me no. My heart sank. Mom tried. “Remember the time you chased Cora because she pushed you over the chicken coop?” Again, slight head shake. Nothing. She tried again, “How about Mitch and his hamburger stand?” This time he closed his eyes, irritated. “I remember it all. Everything you want me to. Every little trivia.” At least he can still be sarcastic! I had to chuckle in spite of it all.
His fingernails needed desperate attention. I know he detests having them cared for. He usually lets me take care of it, but still gets bothered. “Don’t twist them,” he often yells at me after a clip. I was sure to talk him through it this time. There were a few howls and winces, but all in all OK! When I said, “See, Dad, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He said, with a straight face, “Yeah, that was a snap.” I have to laugh when I still hear those little snippets of his sarcastic humor.
Apparently Dad was in a rare hungry mood (and he loves sweets). “Do you have anything good to eat?” (He’d already eaten a banana.) My trunk was full of groceries yet to be unloaded. Fortunately, I had purchased a few “apple fritter” donuts to take to a friend at work. When I opened the package to give him one, he commented on how good they smelled. He managed to polish off one of those puppies in record time! I didn’t know he still could do so well on his own! I asked him if they reminded him of the apple turnovers his mother used to make. Of course, he didn’t remember. But I can hope, can’t I?
2 comments:
Some day he will remember.
Great Day! I bet Uncle Virgil remembers all those stories and can sit and laugh about them all. He just told me the one about himself as a young private reporting to his commanding officer with a hat that was too big for him .........it went over his ears..........and when he reported he heard a snicker and a chuckle.........he turned to look and it was your Uncle Joe (my dad) standing there staring at him. He was checking in on his little brother. We laughed for awhile about that one.
This is a nice picture. Thank-you for sending it and sharing. Can you imagine him trying to jump off a roof ? Would you know or remember if he ever wore that Green Hornet costume for Halloween as a child? I'm sure they got that idea from comic books or they made it up. They only had a radio back then when they were kids growing up.
Love to all.
Susan
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