Lemon Ice Cream

When I first met Sparkle Girl and Doobins, Mr. Doobins wasn't interested in making art.

Sparkle Girl would draw and draw while he did something else. Ask him whether he would like some paper and crayons, and he would say, "No!"

Then one day, he called for some paper and colored pencils because he wanted to make some art. Ever since, art has been one of the activities that he does regularly.

He was the same way with listening to stories. I would offer to read to both of them, and he would say that he wasn't interested. One day, he started listening and soon he was chastising Sparkle Girl when she interrupted the story with questions or peculations.

"Keep reading the story," Doobins would say.

In general, we have discovered that it's best not to push him about certain things. He will do them when he is ready. We are at that place with learning to ride a bicycle. We have the bicycle ready to go and, from time to time, we ask him whether he is ready to learn.

"Not today," he will say.

I have no doubt that one day he will announce that today is the day he is going to learn to ride a bike and that he will do it.

This week, out of the blue, he started using the phone.

During work one day, I called home just to check in. When a child answered, I presumed it was Sparkle Girl because she likes to answer the phone and, to the best of my knowledge, Doobins had never answered a phone in his life.

Not far into what I was saying, Mr. Doobins alerted me to the fact that I was talking not to Sparkle Girl but to him.

A day or so later, Garnet called to tell me that he had initiated a phone call, telling her that he needed to call one of his friends with a Lego question.

On Saturday, Sparkle Girl, Doobins and I stopped by Mayberry for ice cream. For a long time, Doobins was a chocolate ice cream man. In recent weeks, chocolate-chip mint ice cream has been his favorite.

When he announced that he was going to order lemon ice cream, I didn't say anything because I want to encourage him to try new things. But I fretted that he might be disappointed.

He thought the lemon ice cream was great. When Sparkle Girl sampled it, she thought it was great, too.

As they worked on their ice creams at a table outside Mayberry, Mr. Doobins, who knows how to savor his treats, said, "This is a dream come true."

Sparkle Girl and I laughed.

Mr. Doobins likes getting a laugh. I presume that he was hoping to get one from Garnet as well later when he said to me, "When we see Mommy, tell her what I said."

"You can tell her yourself," I said and pulled out the mobile phone.

He got on the phone, filled her in on the background and then said, "And then I said, 'This is a dream come true.'"

Sparle Girl and I laughed again. We said good-bye to Garnet, and Mr. Doobins got back to serious business of savoring every last lick of his lemon ice cream.

Buster

A number of people have asked me about Buster. They worry that the fact that I haven't written about him lately means he is no longer with us.

He is, indeed, still with us.

I don't write about him, in part, because, these days, I don't have cute stories about him that will bring a smile to your face.

Buster is struggling, which means that I'm struggling, too.

We don't know exactly how old Buster is. Fifteen years ago in April, my friend Mike Callaghan found Buster by the side of a road in Stokes County. When I took Buster to the vet, the vet thought Buster was perhaps 12 to 18 months old.

So, when we celebrated our 15th anniversay on April 2, that meant Buster was at least 16 and, perhaps, well on his way to 17. He is certainly well on his way to 17 now.

Before Buster got sick, he weighed a steady 50 pounds for many years. So, for a dog his size, he is ancient.

A few years ago, his kidneys started failing. At the time, the vet said that he was old enough that something else might go before his kidneys.

He has continued to motor along.

But the list of ailments is increasing. Arthritis is a problem.

His hearing is mostly gone. For years, he would hear me drive up and be waiting for me at the door when I opened it. No longer.

I may walk to the back of the house and find him on his bed sound asleep. One fringe benefit of not hearing much is that he no longer hears the thunder that once scareed him.

His vision has been deteriorating for a while. He used to be fine lounging in the front yard while I visited next door on Mr. Whitfield's porch. Now he gets agitated after a few minutes. Mr. Whitfield and I decided that it may partly be because he can't see me over there.

Lately, the vision seems to be getting worse. At night, we used to take a last walk around behind the house before bed. Now, he won't go back there at night. I think it's because it's so dark under the oak tree.

Agitation has become a major issue. Sometimes, he frets the whole night. When the fretting started, I thought it might be his kidneys. But the vet said they were still getting by. That and other symptoms led the vet to conclude that it was some form of dementia.

We tried this medication. We tried that medication. Nothing helped until Proxac.
Although it helps, it doesn't eliminate the problem. Sometimes, when Sparkle Girl, Doobins and I can't figure out what to do to help him settle down, we get agitated, too.

Buster still has fun. He has a hearty appetite. He likes his walk. And, before the nasty heat arrived, he liked to stretch out in the front yard.

I wish I could get inside his head for a minute and know whether, on balance, the good outweighs the bad and whether he still wants to be here.

A while back, Mr. Whitfield said to me that he would tell me when it's time and that, when that day comes, he will go with us to the vet's.

I hope that, when that day comes, it will be crystal clear that it's the right thing to do.

Even better would be not having to make such a decision.

For many years, Buster would bark at airplane vapor trails. (He doesn't see them any more.)

Mr. Whitfield would joke that Buster came to Earth on an alien space ship that accidentally left him behind when it took off and that Buster barked at vapor trails because he was trying to catch the attention of his buddies on the space ship.

Sometimes, I imagine being out with Buster when a space ship lands in front us. The door opens, a friendly alien (who, conveniently, speaks English) steps out and says, "Time to go home, Bud."

I thank Buster for being such a good friend for all these years, and I watch him disappear into the sky.

"What Was I Thinking?"

I wanted some cookies so I told Sparkle Girl and Doobins that I would take them to Walgreens to pick out a treat.

Sparkle Girl knew just what she wanted - a Hershey bar. Doobins said he wanted an ice cream treat but he wasn't sure what kind.

We told him that we would go to the ice cream case first so that he could decide what he wanted, go pick up the cookies and candy bar and then come back for the ice cream so that it wouldn't melt.

That is what we did.

We came back, got Doobins Klondike bar and headed back to the car. On the way, I opened up his Kondike bar for him, and Sparkle Girl opened up her Hershey bar.

As I drove back up the hill toward the house, they tucked into their treats.

One of the things I like about Sparkle Girl is she sometimes asks others whether they are enjoying supper, a treat or whatever.

This is did.

"Is your Kondike bar yummy?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, what kind of chocolate could be not good?" he said.

"Good point," Sparkle Girl said.

Garnet Remembers Mike Callaghan

I don't believe that I have ever been so caught off guard as I was the night I came home and Kim told me that Mike Callaghan had died.

His words didn't make sense for several minutes, as though he were speaking a foreign language.

Mike was my husband's best friend and someone who was larger than life to me. Kim and I had talked about making a children's book with him in it as a magical role model.

A visit from him was nothing short of a great story or a replenishing retreat. He was a source. He gave. It's simply what he did.

Last time I saw him was at a gathering to celebrate Kim and me getting married. He took his huge hands and clasped my shoulders and said, "I am so happy for my friend because you are exactly what he has always wanted. I am just so happy for my friend."

I remember looking up into his face and thinking, "You are so genuine."

He was so unique and a big part of why he stood out was because of how genuine he was. In his art, his advice, his laughing, his way of giving you his full attention, he was so genuine.

I understand now that, because I have never met anyone like Mike, he created his own place in my heart.

I am amazed at that today.

Telephone Talk

When Garnet and I talk on the phone at work, she often says, "I love you" before hanging up.

I work in a big, open room, and, although nobody may be listening, you can't count on it. Anything you say could be overheard by someone, and you have to take that into account when talking.

So I usually say something along the lines of, "I look forward to seeing you."

When I do say, "I love you, too," Garnet will say, "There's noboby around, is there?"

Usually, the answer to that is, "No, there's not."

Every now and then, though, I will say it even if there is someone around.

At home, I'm far more comfortable saying "I love you." That is one of the great gifts that Garnet has given me.

I grew up in a family in which I never doubted that my parents loved me but I remember my mom and dad saying, "I love you" just a few times.

So, I didn't say it much either.

Plus, I'm a guy.

Garnet, though, makes a point to tell Sparkle Girl and Doobins and me that she loves us at least once a day. She also regularly tells others in her world that she loves them.

It has taken work for me to grow comfortable saying it but it's a good thing, I think, especially for the kids.

I think everyone will get by just fine, though, without me getting into the habit of saying it on the phone at work.