“Sunny Day, Papa!”

By G. E. Shuman

          I’m not sure why, but I believe this summer season has meant more to me than any other summer I can remember. Lorna and I often go for rides through the countryside of our gorgeous state, and it just seems more beautiful to me than it has in summers past. The tree-covered mountains are so filled with gorgeous shades of green; wildflowers seem to be everywhere this year; the scent of freshly mown lawns is almost addictive. Everything just seems more vibrant and brighter this year, and, as I said, I don’t know why.

          Perhaps the reason is simply due to the very long and cold winter that left us only a few months ago, or the fact that both my wife and I retired in June and have more time to enjoy this season together.

          I, personally, have also recently given some thought to the fact that, for me, there are certainly many more summers in my past than in my future, at least in this life, and that I truly need to look at the lush and plenteous green and other beauty of the season, and appreciate it all. I do remember times when I would arrive at work in the morning and be greeted by a colleague or two mentioning the great or not so great weather. Some days, with other things on my mind, I had not even noticed what weather I had just driven through. I have decided to at least notice things like that from now on.

          Then there is also a wonderful reminder in my life, of the great blessings of summer. Our nearly three-year-old granddaughter Nahla spends several nights a week at our home. When she does, she invariably wakes me up in the morning by jumping on the bed and excitedly yelling: “Wake up! Sunny day Papa! Sunny day!” Even though this usually happens at least an hour before Lorna and I would normally get up, it just doesn’t get any better than that.

          So, if things aren’t perfect in your life, as is true for all of us, maybe you need to get outside and really SEE the trees, smell the grass, and check out the flowers. Maybe you need to realize that even though your future is a day shorter than it was yesterday, you still have time to appreciate our beautiful surroundings. Or, maybe you need to find a nearly three-year-old to jump on your bed in the morning and share with you the wonder and excitement of a sunny day!

         

Seven Flags

By G. E. Shuman

          Last Wednesday, July 10^th, to be exact, my wife and I were traveling back from a very short visit to Central Maine. We were driving along route 2, through New Hampshire, when we happened to drive by a newly solemn and reverenced spot in Randolph. The place was nothing special, except for the hundreds of American flags and the seven large white crosses that adorned it. This place, although until very recently just another unremarkable and unremembered grassy area at the edge of this small New Hampshire town, now borders on fame. It is the spot, yes, the exact spot, where seven motorcyclists lost their lives only last month. Those everyday people, although among them were several exceptional military Americans, were simply out for a bike ride on a beautiful day when their lives were suddenly ended by a highway accident. How profoundly sad that is.

          As Lorna and I passed the makeshift memorial that I hope becomes a permanent landmark in our country, I decided to stop and pay my respects to these fellow citizens that I will never meet but will always respect. I took a few photos with my phone. Cars were noticeably slowing as they passed behind me. That sound somehow brought me closer to the terrible idea of what had happened there, and to the reality that we Americans are all one. We all feel the pain of those who suffer. We all respect our dead, and morn them.        

          Truthfully, honestly, the sight of that memorial was simply amazing to me. It struck me that the two symbols erected there were seven large white crosses, obvious and worthy references to the Christian faith, and countless, at least hundreds of variously sized American flags, the ultimate symbol of patriotism and of our country. I thought then that when it really comes down to it, despite all the political bickering and the ‘rights’ brandishing that some factions of our nation admonish us with, American flags and large crosses are what we ultimately turn to. God and country are what we, as true Americans, SHOULD turn to, in my opinion.

          Lorna and I have returned home now, but all day today I was somehow haunted by the sight of that memorial to those innocent, fun-loving and patriotic Americans on those big beautiful motorcycles, so, early this evening I went out and purchased seven flags and arranged them in a semi-circle in front of the large maple tree on our front lawn.

          I was just pushing the seventh small flag into the ground when a big, shiny, red pickup truck passed by our house. I looked up as the horn blew and as both occupants lowered their windows and gave me a wonderful thumbs-up. I was proud of them; I am very proud to be an American!