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The Light

By and © Joe Writer Man

Chapter 61

*-* Friday (Oakland, California), Continued *-*

I'd never seen dad speechless before. Mark it in the record books! I tapped dad on his elbow and looked at him intently with question marks running across my face like a ticker tape display for stock market statistics.

His reaction was calm, clear, directed and poignant, he turned to grandma, and "Mom, Allen and Angel are life mates."

Dad looked at me. I said "Peter and I are also life mates. We'll be spending the rest of our lives together. I love Peter and he loves me."

"Now wait a minute mom. These boys, my sons, my flesh and blood are not living in sin. They totally respect, love and nurture their partners. If they didn't then I would have no part of it."

Haughtily grandma got up from her seat, picked up the plastic dishes we had ate apple crisp and ice-cream from then tossed them into the sink. She turned around with a disgusted look on her face then said "I'm going to bed. Jim, you should be ashamed of yourself. I've never heard of such a thing in my life."

Without another word, she turned on her heels and made her exit. I looked at dad then to Jeremy. We looked between ourselves with incredulous expressions on our faces - unbelievable.

"Just remember boys, she's 'old school'. I had her talked into living with us. You heard her. Nevertheless, I see no sin with your love. If you were whoring around, tossing your body at anyone ... then ... well ... that would be a whole different story. I love you guys with all of my heart. No choice can be made - I sure hope it does not come down to where we would be required to even think about having to make one. Mom, your grandmother will just have to understand that we are who we are. I don't see our family entirely changing its ways to accommodate her views, opinions and beliefs though we need to be open for compromise. I'll talk to her in the morning. Let's not all gang up on her ... doing so would not be the right thing."

"I'm sorry, dad. I'm really sorry." I said morosely.

"I was afraid that mom would react in the manner that she has. Just remember, she is old school. She has a right to believe what she believes." Dad said apologetically.

"Dad, there is nothing to be ashamed of, right? If you are ashamed then we should be ashamed too, right?"

"I am NOT ashamed of you boys." Dad fumed, got up then headed into the living room to talk to grandma. She was poised to turn off the last light in the living room.

Decisively he got up from his chair and took off for the living room. Grandma turned to see him walking toward her. Dad said calmly but assuredly "Mom, I will not have you shaming my family. I love them with all of my heart. I love you with all of my heart. Hopefully we can reach a compromise. Hopefully we can find a way to work this out."

"There's no compromise when it comes to God's law, Jim. He who layeth with another man is destined to hell for all of eternity. I pity your sons, and I pity you for allowing such sin in your home. You should be ashamed of yourself. I'll pray for the repose of your souls. Good night." With that said she turned off the lamp, leaving dad in darkness, and headed for her room.

When dad returned to the kitchen his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Jeremy and I went to him, patted him on the back and walked back to the table where we sat. Dad put his head in his hand and began quietly weeping. I don't like to see my dad crying from loneliness, despair, dejection or rejection. I got up, hugged him tightly, kissed him on the cheek then looked at Jeremy after he too had performed his ministrations. Together we went into grandma's room. She was lying atop the covers in her housecoat with the light still on. Her eyes were closed and her lips were twitching as if she were praying. Startled by our presence her eyes popped open, looked toward the door where we were standing, then turned and looked away.

"Can we come in, grandma? We need to talk." I asked calmly.

"It is MAY we come in. Cans are for vegetables." Grandma said seriously.

"May we come in to talk with you, grandmother?"

"Suit yourselves. How's the pineapple crop doing this year?"

"It's a good one. They're sweet and juicy." Jeremy replied happily. I nodded in agreement.

"Grandma, we love you. The last thing in the world we'd ever want to do is to hurt you. Dad doesn't want to hurt you. Nobody does. We are who we are though. You're our grandmother. We love you. We're flesh and blood. Without you and grandpa none of us would be here."

"I love the both of you -but- what you guys are doing with your lives is dreadfully sinful though. It is depraved and it is wicked. You will burn in hell for all of eternity. It says so in the Bible. I hate to see that happen to you. The thought breaks my heart."

After calmly thinking about what grandma had said for a moment "Grandma, lying is a very bad sin. People had their tongues cut out because they lied. The Bible says so. Right?"

"That's true. At least you're not lying to me."

"Grandma, isn't lying to ones' self also bad sin?"

"It is. Lying is lying no matter how you cut it."

"Dad and mom taught Jeremy and I right from wrong. We do not lie. Grandma, I would be lying to myself if I turned my back on Peter and said that I did not love him with all of my heart. My life would be over without him. I swear that it would be over." Thinking quickly because it just came to my mind I added "Grandma, Peter has a child. She's a beautiful little girl. Her name's Nicole."

"Okay, well that proves my point, David. He made a choice to father that child. Why didn't he and the mother of the child marry? They created a child. They should be together to raise that child."

"They didn't love each other. I've never met her. From what Peter has said about her, they would have never survived. At our age, we can, well ... well, we can, I mean making things happen is not all that difficult. She's beautiful and we love her. He's making every effort to be a part of her life -and- her adoptive parents love him. They're making sure he's involved with her life. And they showed up the morning he donated his kidney... that says a lot."

"I didn't know that. See, nobody tells me anything. I have a great grandchild?" Grandma said, her voice softening, amazed.

"Yup. You've gotta come and see her. She's a keeper." I said knowingly. Jeremy nodded his agreement.

"Yes, yes, I'll have to do that, yes I will." Grandma said while wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, she wiped away the tear and looked at me. She said, "How in the world... David, how did Peter... my God... and he turned to you, a young man? Oh my, David, he went from a woman to a boy... oh, that's just wrong. Does he, do you, oh dear, do you guys have sex, do you really? But how? God made man and woman different..."

Jeremy looked to me. I said, "Grandma, some things are best left unsaid... I'll tell you that yes guys can and do share their love for each other in a physical way. I know that lying is wrong. This is why I'm telling you the truth. Do you think God makes mistakes?"

"Well, no, of course not. We do make choices that hurt Him... anything that hurts Him is sin."

Jeremy said, "If God makes no mistakes with his creation then what David and Peter have is no mistake. I've not said anything yet, although I don't identify as being gay, I've met a wonderful guy, and well, yes, we've made the choice to share our love for each other, sexually as well as any other way. People get in a big hurry to cast blame, to put people down, to hurt and harm them, and to kick them out of families because they are different, yet the same people say that God makes no mistakes - it makes no sense to me, but people do it every day."

"Boys, we have to sacrifice. Sometimes the sacrifices hurt really badly, but we have to be right with our Creator. Just remember how much pain and suffering His son endured, and even died from, for atonement of our sins."

"Grandma, you haven't ever met Peter, Jason, Allen or Angel. How can you say our lives are bad? Grandpa taught us to meet someone, talk to them, and get to know them before we burn the person at the stake. I love Peter, that's all there is to it. If you don't want to accept him, or me, that's fine... I'll talk to dad to see if we can just go back home... but then again, going back home would disrespect grandpa. What do you think Jeremy? Should we just go back home?"

Before Jeremy could reply, dad said from the doorway, "Mom, I feel the same way. You taught me, Howard, Jenny and Kyle to be open minded to all possibilities and points of views before tossing another person to the lions. Boys, we're going to be here for grandma and we'll be here to honor dad's life. Mom, we'll be moving our stuff to a hotel in the morning."

"Jim, what would your dad say about all of this?"

"I don't know for sure because, regrettably, we didn't have this conversation but if I were a betting man, I'd bet that he'd accept his grandchildren for who and what they are so long as they are not hurting people. Dad had a pretty open mind about a lot of things. In any event, he wouldn't condemn them to hell for all of eternity. I know he wouldn't."

"That's your dad for you. He and I argued back and forth about that proposition 8 thing so many times. He'd get so mad that he'd go out to the grove and start picking oranges for us to eat for breakfast and snacks. The crazy old coot, damn it, I miss him. I want to be with him so damn bad." Grandma said then broke down sobbing from the pain of losing her husband of 54 years.

Doing what we do best, we cocooned grandma, held her firmly and kissed her cheeks until she calmed down.

"Let me think and pray on it tonight. I may have been around your father for too long, Jim. That or senility is setting in. Maybe both are true." Grandma said seriously.

*-* Saturday *-*

Dad woke us up at 9:00am, an ungodly hour since we'd not gone to bed until 2:45am. I didn't sleep all that great what with grandma had said last night running through my head over and over again. Jeremy also tossed and turned in his fits of sleep for most of the night. The bed was small, and HE was hogging it. Each and every little motion seemed to be amplified ten times. Try going to sleep with a damn elbow knocking you in your face was a pain in the ass.

Finally at 4:30, I had gotten up, hobbled into the bathroom using the walls for support, took a pee, washed my face with a hot wet washcloth and went back to bed, or tried to. Jeremy was sprawled in all different directions.

I closed the door, turned on the light then was greeted with two birdies flying from Jeremy's hands. "This isn't working out very well. Did you know you fart in your sleep?" Jeremy said.

"Hey butt breath; nobody's yet died from my farts, unlike yours!"

"I resemble that remark. Come on, get in bed."

"Then give me some damn room."

"Whatever." Jeremy said getting up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Soon he was back. After lying down, he turned off the light and said, "I need to jack off. Maybe that will help to relax me. You okay with it?"

"Sheesh. Yeah, me too. I mean I'll do myself."

Jeremy snickered then his underwear went flying to the wayside leaving him completely naked save for a smile. Although I wasn't horny I stripped naked, took hold of my cock, coaxed and coached it up into an erect position and began stroking it purposefully. What got me going was thinking of Peter's cock deep within my anal canal, pounding me without mercy, and then spraying my insides with his love juices. I blew my cork sending shot after shot after shot of boy cream jettisoning all over my belly, lower chest and upper thighs. After the last shot blew, my dick quickly made its descent into my absent pubes. I didn't experience any aftershocks as I usually did. Oh well, the entire expectation was simply to relax enough so that sleep would overcome my tired mind and body.

Jeremy appeared to be having the same problem so I suggested he think of his amorous escapades with the love of his life, Jason. Shortly thereafter, his eyes glazed over, his back arched, his muscles tightened, he gritted his teeth then began laboriously breathing as his sperms blew straight up in the air, landing in a puddle on his belly, and then a few more drops dribbled into his fully developed pubic bush.

After wiping up with our underwear, sleep overtook me. Instead of remembering grandma's harsh words, I dreamed of Peter whispering sweet things in my ear, poking my butt with his spear, and his hands roaming the curves and indentations of my body that he knew oh so well.


The next thing I knew was dad calling from the doorway saying it was time to wake up, and to get ready for grandpa's funeral.

Groggily, I got up, hobbled into the bathroom, relieved the bladder with a big piss and then took a quick shower. Naked, I headed back to the room Jeremy and I shared... but stopped mid-stride when I saw grandma standing in the living room, looking out the window, and looking broken with her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. Sensing a presence, she turned around to see me. She nodded then, much to my surprise gave me a thumbs' up gesture. Still half asleep, I realized I was standing there totally naked. Sheepishly, I shot a thumbs' up and quickly made my way to the bedroom and shut the door.

I said to Jeremy, seeing that he was naked and ready to go take his own shower, "Grandma's in the living room. I think she liked what she saw because she gave me a thumbs' up!"

He put on a pair of underwear and headed for the bathroom to take his own shower.

Meanwhile, I dressed out my stump in anticipation of doing lots of walking. With that accomplished I retrieved and put on underwear, dress socks, a dress shirt and fiddle fucked around with the top button. I felt like choking.

Next were the dress pants. They were a chore in that they were tight in the butt and waist. I was struggling with getting them zipped and snapped when Jeremy entered. He smirked and said, "FATT ASS!"

That comment earned him a full set of flying birds. I laughed my ass off when he had the same difficulties with his dress pants. Of course, he received the same 'fat ass' comment complimented by single finger salutes.

Suit jackets were impossible. I hadn't realized my shoulders and chest had broadened with advancements into puberty. I just told Jeremy he was fat which earned me a slap up the side of the head.

After doing our hair we went to the kitchen where the smell of cinnamon rolls came assaulting the senses.

While eating grandma said, "Boys, I'm waiting until the end of next month to move. I'll be there by Thanksgiving. There are some things that need to be done here before I leave. Although I'll be living at a retirement community I hope to be with you guys as much as possible."

I looked to dad... he replied, "We'll make adjustments. We'll talk about it later."

For the first time since we'd arrived, grandma perked up. Smirking, she said coyly, "Boys, your dad and I talked until late... from what I've seen so far, neither of you have anything to be ashamed of..."

Dad choked.

Grandma snickered.

Jeremy's face turned bright red. He looked to me for my reaction. I had none because it went over my head, "What?"

Grandma said, "Oh for goodness sakes, I've raised sons, and I've changed your diapers, and that goes for you too Jim."

For a moment I pondered what she was saying and then all of a sudden realized or remembered the thumbs' up gesture from her on my way from the shower to the bedroom. I felt my skin heat up, and knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was going to burn and disappear from a spontaneous combustion event.

They all thought it was all funny and shit.

I drank down the whole glass of milk hoping against all hope that the cool liquid would cool the jets.

Once the laughter died down, and the threat of nuclear explosion from the heat of the moment, grandma turned serious, "Boys, I don't approve of your lifestyle... as long as you don't flaunt around like flaming queens, lock lips, or walk around with flag poles <I was heating up again>, I don't ask you to change to prudes. Like I said, I've changed your diapers, and that goes for you too, Jim, so I don't have trouble with casual nudity. I have to remember it is your home."

"Thanks grandma. You'll like Peter.... he's the best." I said.

Jeremy added, "You're the best grandma. We won't let you down. I just want to let you know... if something on our body changes shape then we go to our room, jump in the water, grab a towel, or turn away, or something."

Dad said, "Those are the rules. Mom, our other rule is no sex in public living areas. This rule is non-negotiable. Jeremy told the rule about erections - the thing is that <looking at me then Jeremy> sometimes they happen, they are a normal part of the male anatomy."


While dad was showing me how to tie the neck tie my cell phone rang. I picked up and saw that it was Peter, "Hello!"

"Hey babe, I miss ya already. When ya coming home? I want your hot body, David, now!" Peter whispered breathlessly.

I snickered. "Hey babe, I need to call ya back, dad's fixing my tie. Uhmmmmmm, love ya! ... and yeah, definitely!"

Peter snickered and hung up. His seductive voice and desire had the effect he'd wanted. My pants got just a little bit tighter, in one certain place.

"Those pants are really tight on you, David." Dad said while snickering and turning away.

I looked into the mirror and saw that everything seemed okay.

Grandmothers! She did her inspection, and finally after a few minor adjustments we passed muster.

The limo arrived and whisked us off to the church for grandpa's service. The church was one of those stone block buildings built way back in the early 1900's. It was very long but disproportional in width. Nevertheless, the day was breezy, warm but not hot, and with full sunshine. Grandpa would have loved the day. There were a lot of people milling about. Even the Riser's, a family from back in Missouri, were there. Mr. Riser had been grandpa's best friend since they were as 'knee high to grasshoppers'. I walked over and greeted him. At first he didn't recognize me but then awareness took hold when I provided him with my name. Jeremy walked over, and he went through the same with Mr. Riser.

The ushers began herding people into the church so the service could begin. We were taken to the family row down at the front.

The service was actually pretty kewl in that many of grandpa's spoke fondly of him and that he would be sorely missed.

In any event, the casket was led up the main isle to the back of the church. The preacher then stopped. The funeral home people then unlatched the lid... I knew what was going to happen... I was not going to be a part of that... I did NOT and would NOT see grandpa dead, period.

I looked dad, shook my head no and then took off for the other side of the church where an exit door was located. I was not going to see my grandpa dead. No way. I was going to remember him alive. It was non-negotiable.

Jeremy, not being a peg-leg, soon caught up, took my arm in his and said that dad demanded that I return. In no uncertain terms I said that I wasn't. Then I jerked my arm out of his hold and headed on out the door.

After descending the steep stairs, I headed for the limo, got in, and began to close the door but dad quickly descending the stairs. He was loaded for bear. In the background, I heard the organist playing Amazing Grace. That song gets to me every time.

He took my arm in his hand and demanded that I stand and talk to him face to face. He said, "Do not disrespect your grandmother, David. You get up there, be with your grandma, right now!"

"Dad, I'm not disrespecting her or you. The last vision of my mother is her lying in that damn casket. I'm not going to have that same final vision of grandpa. I'm not going to do it."

"You are back talking me, David. You get up there right now. Don't be selfish. Now go. This subject is closed."

"No dad. I don't want my last memory of him to be in the coffin. Please don't make me."

"David Allen Blake."

"No dad. You're teaching me to grow up and to make my own decisions. I've made my decision." I then jerked my arm out of his hand and got back into the limo, sat down, buckled my seat belt, crossed my arms, and then looked away out of the window on the other side of the vehicle.

Dad got into the limo, shut the door, sat down next me, reached across my lap and unbuckled the seat belt, and then said parentally "Go. Do it. Do it now! Do not defy me. There is no more argument, period. Now go."

I banged on the door as hard as I could to get the drivers' attention. He opened the door. I got up and out of the limo then turned to dad and said, "This is fucked up, dad. I'll never forgive you."

As fast as I could go, stomping as hard as I could, steaming, screaming in my head, my heart pounding my chest, my lungs straining with the abnormal exertions, dad calling my name, Jeremy with a 'what the fuck are you doing' look on his face, and with one last lunge I topped the stairs, then walking as fast as I could go I went to the opening of grandpa's casket and stared at him FUCKING DEAD IN A FUCKING COFFIN!!!!

Between being totally pissed off and half-ass crying because Amazing Grace was on its final stanza, I turned to dad... I opened my mouth to rip him to shreds but Jeremy put his hand over my oral cavern, and he said, "Don't. Don't do it."

"Fuck you, Jeremy."

Just then I heard somebody say, "Oh, he looks so nice. The undertaker really did a good job. Who is the funeral home?"

That was the last straw. I turned to the man and said, "My grandpa is fucking dead. Why don't you have a little respect for family, eh?"

"DAVID." Dad growled.

When I could take no more, I turned around to leave the bullshit but Dad was standing right behind me blocking my escape. He was enraged. I'd never seen him that mad before nor have I seen him that angry since then.

Harshly, he grabbed my elbow, harshly led me into the baptismal room, closed the door, stood directly in front of me and said, "SIT DOWN YOUNG MAN!"

Obediently, I sat down on the cold hard steel chair he was pointing out for me to sit on. He sat down next to me. He then put his hand on my leg. "Don't you even think about getting up."

Once the adrenalin push of the moment slowed down, I began crying though not wanting to. Dad put his hand on my shoulder then said softly, reassuringly "You needed to cry, David. You haven't cried since your grandfather passed away, have you?"

Rather than to continue crying, I turned the switch off, reached for the box of Kleenex, grabbed some, wiped my eyes out, blew my nose, tossed them into the trash can nearby then while looking him directly into his eyes, with determination, and a softness in my voice which I did not feel at the moment, said "No dad, I haven't, not until now. But it's not what you think it is. I cried because my last vision of grandpa is dead. Just like mom. I wanted to keep them alive within my spirit. Now I can't do it. <pause.> Dad, I promise you something: I will NOT look at you lying dead in a damned casket - you can't make me then. I hated that you made me look at grandpa like that."

For an indeterminable period of time, I just paced the floor back and forth back and forth and back and forth. As I did so, a state of peace fell over me like a warm blanket on a cold winters' night then I smelled mom's perfume. I kept pacing until that aroma passed me by.

"I'm sorry." I said then went to the door, opened it up, walked down the stairs to the hearse limo, got in, sat down then just sat there not saying anything to anyone ... all I saw was grandpa's face - dead.


After several minutes, I don't know how many, I saw Dad, Jeremy and grandma walking down the stairs toward the limo. Dad had calmed down considerably, he no longer looked mad instead he had a sad look on his face. Jeremy looked at me with disbelief written all over his face. They helped grandma to get in the vehicle. Jeremy got in next, sat across from me and immediately looked away when our eyes met. Dad got in and sat down by Jeremy. I put my arm around grandma and said, "I'm sorry." She squeezed my hand firmly but didn't say anything.

Just then I felt a puff of grandma's powder, or something, go into my nose causing me to sneeze once, twice then three times rapidly followed by a deep guttural fourth.

Quickly dad reached for a Kleenex but it was too late as I looked down to my suit jacket. Yuck.

Without warning, I sneezed again - the mother load of all sneezes. Not only did I rip a loud resounding fart but I also felt, instead of hot air, cold air emanate through my crotch. Only the cold air didn't come from within.

Dad and Jeremy both averted their eyes down into that area between my legs. Both of their smirks turned into looks of shock.

I asked sheepishly, "What?" At the same time, I reached my hand down between my legs and immediately felt a total opening in the seam of my pants. I reached deeper and found that the tear, the rip of my pants extended to the belt line in back.

"What else can go wrong?" I whimpered totally defeated.

Grandma pulled my hand away and looked down there for herself. She said, "Oh my..."

Tears sprang from my eyes like an oil well being tapped, immediately rolling down my cheeks and onto the front of my pants.

Everybody started cracking up, though not in the literal sense of the word, of course. Grandma quipped, "Oh David, your grandpa's having a ball with this one, the old coot."

That cracked 'them' up even more. Despite my brave efforts to not laugh or give any indication that what had happened was nothing short than Armageddon I found myself smiling, somewhat.

One more sneeze blew the rip in my pants up the zipper thus exposing my entire crotch. Thank God I wore underwear else everything, and I mean everything, would have been exposed to the world.

Grandma removed her shawl and placed it over the opening in front. I adjusted it a bit so that I was fully covered.

Dad called the limo driver and told him to drive us to grandma's house.

After arriving, dad told Jeremy to stay in the limo with grandma that he and I would be right back. Jeremy looked at me worriedly. I just shrugged my shoulders then got out as grandma handed him the keys to her house.

I went into the tiny guest room, grabbed my black jeans out of the suitcase, laid them on the bed and started taking my shoes off. Dad stepped into the room and offered to help. I declined his help, my words sharper than intended.

He said, "Have it your way but straighten your attitude up right now, young man. I'll not have you acting like a butt head at the burial. I've never been disrespected like your words and actions showed today. I'll think of a suitable punishment. Your grandpa is my dad. You want to grow up, you want to receive more privileges, you want to be allowed more independence - and - you do that crap, give me a break."

With that said he turned to leave the room, I said, "Okay dad. Whatever you come up cannot possibly be any worse than making me see my grandpa dead. Nothing is worse than that. Dad, don't ever make me do that again. I cried in church today because mom's face came back to me - I saw her lying in the casket, dead."

"You defied me, David. Not only did you defy me but you threw a temper tantrum typical of a 4 year old not getting his way. Get with the program. Let me tell you what: I sassed your grandpa once when I was about your age. He had no qualms about taking me to the barn and thrashing my ass from there into the next county. I've not forgotten that. And believe you me, if there was a barn nearby, you'd not be sitting for at least a week."

"I'd rather get thrashed than ever see anybody dead again. I won't ever go gawking into another casket. If that defies you then I'm sorry in advance. You taught me to make decisions about what is right and wrong, and if I made mistakes then be prepared to suffer the consequences. I'm done fighting. I love you too much to keep this going. I'm sorry for acting like a fucking baby. I swear that I'll never be in this position again."

The look on dad's face softened yet he was determined to make his point. I also opened my mind to listen to what he was formulating his words to say. After pausing for a couple of minutes he said, "Another lesson: you can disagree without being disagreeable. The best way to handle these things is communication up front, before a known even happens. That didn't happen. The fact remains that you made an ass out of yourself in front of many people, especially your grandmother. You owe her an apology for, as you say, being a dick ... I call your behavior disrespect."

"Dad, when I was a little boy, grandpa and I 'worked' side by side doing farm 'chores'. He put me on my first horse and guided her around the pasture making sure that I thought I was doing everything. Do you remember when I broke my arm?"

"Yes, I do. How can I forget?"

"The truth of it is that Jeremy and I were goofing off in the hayloft. You told us not to mess around up there because we'd possibly fall and get hurt ... well, we were goofing off up there, and I fell off and got hurt. Jeremy had nothing to do with me getting hurt, by the way. Grandpa covered our butts. He covered Jeremy's big time. You just knew that we were up there goofing off. Well, grandpa truthfully explained that there were wasps up there and they were there to chase us away from their homes - the only little thing about is that they were not chasing us THEN."

"I figured as much. It doesn't surprise me. Uhm, he covered my butt a few times. He was just like that." Dad said fondly reminiscing the relationship had had with his dad.

He added, "Tell you what. You figure out a suitable punishment for disrespecting your grandmother, I and Jeremy so we can talk about it. I'll tell what your grandpa did for me when I sassed him. Yes, I did sass him a couple of times that were notable."

"So what did he do?"

"Do you remember the old red barn that got ripped to shreds by that tornado?"

"Oh yeah, we had a lot of fun in there."

Dad chuckled briefly then said "Your grandpa took me there every time I sassed him. He would make sure my britches were down around my ankles then give me a good bare-assed whooping. I tried to run away from him the first time ... and well you can imagine what happened. He laughed as he blistered my hide. Thinking back on it now, that would have been hilarious seeing your kid try to run full out with his pants around his ankles. Yes, I fell flat on my head. Funnier yet is the time when your uncle Clyde ran away from home because he was about to get thrashed for sassing your grandmother. The only trouble with that was he was 12 years old and eventually had to come home. As I recall, he got thrashed twice. I believe the police call it felony evasion these days. Come on, we need to get back out there otherwise we'll be late."

I stood to arrange my jeans hanging off my ankles. Dad looked at my leg and announced, "You have blood where your prosthesis joins your leg. Sit down; I'll look at the flesh beneath the bandage."

"Damn, I put on extra padding... can we do it later? I'll be careful. They're waiting on us."

Dad regarded me carefully then said, "No, we're going to look at it now. Sit down and take off your Leg. It won't take but a minute or two."

Obediently I sat down after removing the straps, the Leg and all the padding thus exposing bare skin.

Dad said, "Shit, you've got a large sore. Did you bring the skin care kit? Did you bring extra padding?"

"It's in my suitcase. Dad, the extra padding caused my Leg to not fit properly, I guess. I'm just afraid if we pad it anymore then ... well, I think the sore will get worse because more pressure will be on it."

"You didn't bring your crutches either..."

"No, but I've got the fold ups. Dad, I think less padding will be better. That'll relieve the pressure... what do you think?"

"I'd prefer you not wear it. We'll dress it then you can walk around using the crutches."

With that said I, with dad's assistance, dressed the stump and retrieved the crutches to use for however long necessary.

The burial service was pretty kewl. The preacher concluded with a small prayer to release grandpa's spirit and then left for a dinner hosted by a friend of grandma and grandpa's.

After dropping grandma off and getting her settled in we took off for the airport for our flight departing at 5pm. The flight home was uneventful and we arrived at the general aviation wing at a little past 8pm.

"Dad we need to stop by the hospital." I said hopefully.

"Ahhhh, David, that's a lot of walking. You don't do wheelchairs so the answer is..."

"Wheelchair. No argument, promise." I said smiling vigorously.

Dad just rolled his eyes then buzzed the limo driver advising him of the change in plans. We had just missed the last hospital exit so the driver had to go to the next exit then backtrack back.

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