when i see the interaction between my grandaughters and grandson it reminds me of many years past. we lived in an older house on central ave. in dunkirk, n.y. in the backyard we had a brick barbeque cooker. this was used as home base for many a neighborhood game. on this one particular day, a few of us were playing "pies". one person was designated as the "wolf "and the others would get together and come up with different pie flavors. each of us would choose a flavor- unknown to the "wolf" and then stand in a circle around him. he would then begin to say he was hungry and was looking for a pie- naming different flavors. when he said your flavor, you had to run away to try to get away from him. you were safe if you got back to home base- the barbeque cooker, before he touched you.
my brother, doug, was the wolf at one point and when he chose a pie and began running, he was so excited to almost have that pie person that he never slowed up and ran right into the cooker with his head. there was blood everywhere. my parents took him to the hospital and i stayed home- i remember sitting in the bench swing at the funeral home next door,with my two friends , crying and just knowing that he was dead. i can still remember the terrible sense of loss that i felt. a little later, my parents brought doug home all bandaged up and they let me see that he was ok. it was then that i knew that i truly loved my brother and all the squabbles we had or would have would fade in importance to that moment of realization.
Playing catch up (again)
1 week ago