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December 2008 
Just to Share
Posted on Oct 31st, 2008
by 
Jo
Jo
I wrote this in response to my father's poetically autobiographical book, "So's Your Old Man," that was a Christmas gift in 1980 - edited by my mother, Evelyn Maples He was a complex man - composed of all the ups and downs that a human can be. Yet, he was my very closest friend for many years.
To: Bill Maples
Thoughts Upon Reading Your Book
Sometimes I feel like Christopher Robin off to explore and protect with my little pop-gun, wearing the short pants of childhood.
I burrow in cozy Rabbit holes which I believe must have hitherto gone unnoticed in their hidden smallness. I stalk the mighty Tigger and, behold, unlike any other great hunter, I make a friend of the striped roarer and lead him to community. I cause bumps on the head of my dearest friend and he endures and, occasionally, delights in my company.
My adventures are many and wonderful - from rescuing bears immobilized by their greed, to designing a proper decoration to adorn a backside, to teaching a tiny 'Roo how to reason and speak. And I learn that one of the more important aspects of climbing up a tree is getting back down.
AHA! In the midst of great discoveries, with oversized spy glass pompously poised before my nose, I spot a faint trail meandering 'cross mine with one or two discernable footprints. Interloper into my world! Insulting! Hinting that I am not the first! I make a plaster cast of indentations crassly made in the soil of my land that I may later find and perhaps exile this poacher.
I learn many lessons and the chill of maturity whispers 'round my bare knees.
Frosty otherworld reality tickles my nose and my Poohs and my Roos and my Eeyores begin to fade. And I feel the brush of panic and I dig frantically in Mama's closet for warm grown-up clothes. I dress up head to toe and add a high fur muff for a touch of mystery.
And I come to see you.
Oh my! I'm out of place! There you sit in your short pants with a spy glass at the ready and a Robinish smile on your face.
I relievedly shed my muff and as we share, you slowly, impishly, raise your foot high - the foot that is just the size of my intruder - my friend.
To: Bill Maples
Thoughts Upon Reading Your Book
Sometimes I feel like Christopher Robin off to explore and protect with my little pop-gun, wearing the short pants of childhood.
I burrow in cozy Rabbit holes which I believe must have hitherto gone unnoticed in their hidden smallness. I stalk the mighty Tigger and, behold, unlike any other great hunter, I make a friend of the striped roarer and lead him to community. I cause bumps on the head of my dearest friend and he endures and, occasionally, delights in my company.
My adventures are many and wonderful - from rescuing bears immobilized by their greed, to designing a proper decoration to adorn a backside, to teaching a tiny 'Roo how to reason and speak. And I learn that one of the more important aspects of climbing up a tree is getting back down.
AHA! In the midst of great discoveries, with oversized spy glass pompously poised before my nose, I spot a faint trail meandering 'cross mine with one or two discernable footprints. Interloper into my world! Insulting! Hinting that I am not the first! I make a plaster cast of indentations crassly made in the soil of my land that I may later find and perhaps exile this poacher.
I learn many lessons and the chill of maturity whispers 'round my bare knees.
Frosty otherworld reality tickles my nose and my Poohs and my Roos and my Eeyores begin to fade. And I feel the brush of panic and I dig frantically in Mama's closet for warm grown-up clothes. I dress up head to toe and add a high fur muff for a touch of mystery.
And I come to see you.
Oh my! I'm out of place! There you sit in your short pants with a spy glass at the ready and a Robinish smile on your face.
I relievedly shed my muff and as we share, you slowly, impishly, raise your foot high - the foot that is just the size of my intruder - my friend.
Access: Public
Jo,
Your response here is so delightful. I love it!
Thank you for posting it to share.
:)
I can only second LeAnn's comments, in deep appreciation of your words of love and delight for your father.
and YES yesyesyes, the “chill” of maturity is the illusion. Wisdom is what beckons; and wisdom knows the heart-expanding benefits of adventures and play and silliness and love. (Meetcha up in the trees!)