Michael Munas (michaelboy) wrote,
Michael Munas
michaelboy

...is the home of our hearts

Years ago, my wife and I inherited our oldest daughter's paper route. It had turned from an evening edition to a morning paper and as a result there was no convincing a young teenager that a few dollars a day was better than sleeping later in the morning.

We didn't mind really, and it certainly wasn't the extra income, but it gave us good times.

On Sundays, we'd do the whole route together. First it was stuffing the ads in the bulk of the paper while the dog watched and then carrying the bulky weekend load out to our ugly paint-peeled minivan. En route, we'd see bunny rabbits running along the curbs near the mailboxes and we even made up a little 'run run run run' sing-song about it. After our fun, we'd come home and drink coffee together.

On weekdays, I would take her to the more distant houses and she would finish up on foot. I still remember many mornings leaving her on the street and as I drove away to work, I could see her shadow in the darkness along Ewings Mill Road.

Still on some mornings, I am captured by a sign on the road that makes me think it is her fading in my mirror -- for a second.



I'd like to think she is proud of me now and I believe since then I have become a better man. So yeah, like daisies, wonderful things can grow out of rain and difficult soil. I certainly feel the support which encourages me to renew and recreate my life.

Scout and I are going to grow a little herb garden together and I couldn't be happier.
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