My Father’s Wisdom

Dear Liza,

I will write properly about my dad, your great-grandpa Lowell, later this week. For now I will just tell how he helped me through a bad time this weekend.

Summer is coming!

After our wonderful trip to the Coast, staying home all day seemed to get even more tedious and confining. I lost interest in my story, felt stupid when I tried to paint, and was just sad and cranky. The petty inconveniences of the shut down, combined with the very real trouble our country is in right now, were really getting to me.

Saturday, I asked Granda Nelson and Auntie Bridgett to do the weekly shopping so I could stay home and give the house a much needed cleaning. It felt GOOD to be doing something useful and hard, and both the house and I were better for it.

One of my flower cards

Sunday, the blues crept up again. For most of the day I sat in different places in the house, feeling useless and sad. In the afternoon, I thought of my Dad and some of his advice. He said that when you felt sad, you should find someone worse off, and help them. These past weeks, this advice has led to me making cards for elderly folks and cookies for marchers.

But when you feel really useless, you don’t feel like you CAN help anyone. You are sure your cookies will be awful and your cards will be laughable. What then?

Ice cream, dad’s voice said. Get out of the house and go get some ice cream. So I did what we do now, in Portland, when we want to “go out” for ice cream. I got on the Fifty Licks website.

Ice cream therapy

I rounded up my people and we walked the half mile through our own dear neighborhood, admiring the flowers and fruits as they burst out in yards, driveways and parking spaces.

We got to Fifty Licks, up on Burnside, and realized there were a lot of people doing ice cream therapy. Our online order was ready right on time, but where to eat it?

Glamorous al fresco dining

Indoor dining is NOT an option in Portland yet, so we walked up the block to the Catholic Pastoral Center and borrowed the curb of their parking lot, with a view of tall trees and the Burnside traffic. Informal, al fresco, and yummy. Dad would have approved.

By the time we got home, full of beauty and yummy cream, I felt better. We had also walked a mile, which always helps. We can get through difficult times, with good people and good ice cream.

Even the raspberries are happy!

Thanks, Dad!


Grandma Judy

Author: Judy

I am a new transplant to Portland from Salinas, a small city in Central California. This is a blog about my new city.

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