While traveling with my daughter and her family, we saw a duck. That stirred a memory of when my daughter was small. I told the grandkids that once when their mama and uncle were little, we went to Montana with Daddy Buck & Grandma Buck. We drove down the road, and a duck flew into the windshield. Daddy Buck ducked as the duck hit the window. Then I said, “And that was a true story.”
I told of the time when we were traveling on that same road and chased a jackrabbit down the road for about a mile. I added, “And that was a true story.”
My youngest granddaughter took may hand and said, “Tell us another story.” I tried to think about stories that included their mama. Soon one came to mind.
This was the story as told to the littlest granddaughter: “When your mama was a little girl we were going to the mountains with Daddy Buck to go camping. So we started off that way. Your mom had curly hair and she had on a flannel shirt and had this great big old backpack. We got up there to the cabin, ready to go into the mountains, and she started crying. ‘I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.’ So I said, ‘It’s too late now because we don’t have a way to get you back to town.’ We started up the trail, and she had the big backpack on her back and a hat on.”
“We got up close to the lake where there’s an old hay rake. Your mom had her picture made there. She was about to quit crying, but I think her stomach was hurting. We started up the trail and came to Eagle Park. That’s where we camped for the night. I got a picture of your mama and uncle in the river with their underwear on. The water was really cold.”
“The next day we hiked up to the waterfalls. Now, your mama pooted in her pants, and her underwear was dirty. We put a stick in the ground at the top of the cliff, a big stick, and I told your mom, ‘You’ve gotta take your panties off.’ We went down to the creek washed them out and hung them on the stick. We said, ‘This is the flag of freedom.’ Your mom said, ‘But I don’t have any underwear!’ ‘Just pull your pants up, and we’ll get them on the way back.’ So on the way back from our hike that day, we got her underwear, and they were dry. She put them on. Then we went back to Gommie’s cabin and spent the night.”
We continued our drive down the road. A little hand held mine as I told stories. That sweet little girl was mesmerized. Her eyes were intent on watching me. She would occasionally ask a question about the story, and then her sweet little voice said, “Tell me the story about the flag of freedom again.”