True stories

Random thoughts: Growing Together (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / 4 Comments

Sitting at our local Starbucks in La Plata, MD., I noticed an elderly couple walk in, ordered some drinks and sat at a table. I’m an outgoing person and I’ll talk to anyone in earshot. They were too far away to say anything, so I just watched them, whenever I took a break from my laptop.

 

They interested me, so I took a break from writing and studied them instead. People watching is an unexpected pleasure I get, while I sit in the friendly confines of the air conditioned atmosphere.

 

I would guess they were close to the eighties, if not in them. She had her right arm in a cast, so he gently held her left elbow as he ever so slowly guided her toward the table. He made sure she was comfortable, before he went to get their drinks and napkins. I overheard him tell the barista, “Can you pour a little out of this one and put this much ice in it? This one’s for my wife.” As he said that he held up his right thumb and forefinger with about an inch and a half distance between them.

 

The barista said, “Of course. Hope you all are staying cool in this heat.”

 

“Yeah, we like coming here, because it’s so pleasant.” He took the drinks to the table and sat across from her using very calculated movements. I could tell almost every action he made was for her convenience. They seemed to be the same age, but it was apparent he had more life in his bones than she did. It was obvious he cared for her very much.

 

Every action she made was slow and deliberate, no wasted energy. I noticed from her gingerly movements, that she was either very ill or too old to move any quicker.

 

Finished with their drinks he cleaned and straighten the table as she sat. He then helped her up and before they headed to the car he took the time to push the chair in. When he was helping her into the car, that’s when I noticed they both had light blue shirts, tan pants and the same colored loafers. Both of them had the same completion, height, weight, hair color and they dressed a like. Were they that similar, when they met or did they grow that way?

Poem: the hole in the wall (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / 9 Comments

The hole in the wall

By Jim McDonald (true story)

 

the hole in the wall
controls my all
an anxious captive
peeking out
screen or glass
buffers the fright
how do I leave
how do I stay
the hole in the wall
controls my all
breathing is rapid
breathing is brutal
afraid to leave
afraid to stay
the hole in the wall
controls my all
afraid to live
afraid to die
the hole in the wall
controls my all

2011

 

How ya like my hat? Hughesville (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

How ya like my hat? Hughesville (true story)

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We moved to Hughesville from Lanham in ’65. The post office was at the center of town and if you blinked you would miss it. I attended fifth grade , played Pony League baseball, played Colt League baseball and met my first girl friend there. I lived on that farm till I married Mickey in ’72.

 

Our little town never had hats back then, so when I saw this hat at a yard sale my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Two dollars bought this one and another similar one it. The “H” does stand for a Hughesville softball team. Too cool.

 

This picture was taken about a year and a half ago at the local Bed, Bath and Beyond. A guy that worked there took several pictures for me. When I was explaining to him that I wanted the pictures for my, “How ya like my hat?” gig, it was very apparent to me that he didn’t care.

 

How ya like my hat? Stetson (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

How ya like my hat? Stetson (true story)

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This is one of my favorite hats, ever since ’95. Our “Vacation Bible School” theme at Forest Park Baptist Church that year was Cowboys and Indians. I bought it at Fred’s Saddlery in Waldorf for forty dollars, but this picture was taken in 2012.

That year the pastor asked me to take over the fifth and sixth grade boy’s Sunday School class. I did NOT want to do it, but I prayed about it and said yes. With in two weeks, I was asked to combine our class with the fifth and sixth grade girl’s class. I accepted, but by years end I knew what I already suspected. I was better suited for the Prison Ministry, which God used me to bring to the church the year before.

I excelled at the Prison Ministry, especially since I had inside knowledge of this particular jail. I knew how it felt to live there, because I lived there years before. I knew that the best meal was hamburger and french fries night and I knew how stingy they were with the condiments. I had insight on a number of the little things that we take for granted out here. This gave me a connection with the guys and they listened to what I had to say. All I can surely say, is that a seed was planted.

 

 

Your three words, my little story: Darla’s words (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

Your three words, my little story: Darla’s words: mercy, pain & happiness (true story)

It was that time of year again and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Does anyone look forward to going to the Dentist? Todays visit was just a cleaning, but when your teeth are as bad as mine it still hurts a little. I can only hope that the doctor has MERCY on me. She seems to be very capable of doing her job and somewhat compassionate while doing it. Well the cleaning went well and I was so happy to be out of there and sitting in front of the receptionist making my next appointment.

I know I just left a cleaning, but I was hungry. Thinking it was better if I didn’t eat before seeing my Dentist, especially since I just brushed my teeth and gargled. Sitting down the street at the “Dash In” counter with my tasty Monday lunch always brings me pleasure. Normally this lunch is spicy chicken wings, potato wedges and a soda. Sometimes the ice in the soda causes PAIN in my teeth, because of the cold. So I give a little pause every time, before the first drink.

One of my favorite places to be is sitting in front of some water with a fishing pole in hand. It is nice to catch a fish, but the best part is being alone in my thoughts. Pure HAPPINESS is a lost feeling now a days, but I know when I’m in it. Normally catching a fish is a added joy.