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(Click the pic for a larger view.)

Anyone who knew me as a kid knows it’s an astoundingly, flabbergasting, jaw-dropping, stupefying surprise that I’m a father. Sure, I had a future even a wrong turn could help back then, but it also was clear from the get-go that another planet was, in fact, my home. I lived spaced out most of the time.

Still, there has always been a Father in me.

A fishing Grandpa….who knew?

 

Basically, my kid-self was a walking brain dent.

School was torture, a work around looking to happen, though girls were annoyingly interesting. Sports became my ticket to skate by on in high school. Next came a spin as class VP.  I spent a zillion hello’s on friends passing in school halls like a pseudo-millionaire with no money.

The politician in me continued to thrive through my non-formative years of college.

As a sophomore, the college paper deemed me, Apple Gerry, with a front page picture that showed me ranting about student dorm rights. Soon, I was appointed by the graduating head of , Group X, to be this organization’s next President. Now, Group X had two major agendas. First, our group wanted , ‘open,’ dorms with visiting rights for both men and women 24/7. (Seems my younger interests stuck with me). Secondly, we wanted visiting rights for women in the men’s dorms.  I know, these two agendas seem the same, but agenda two left men out of female dorms. Underlying our two hot pulsing agenda’s were rumors I made sure spread that Group X would host off campus beer parties. It all worked great until those beer parties took effect which is why I don’t remember how long Group X survived and when or why it ended…

Not to be detoured, my free-fallin’, dancing, singing self landed me a membership pre-facto of Phi-Kappa-Phi since I refused to go thru hazing but was made an off-the-record member of the fraternity house anyway. It was a great, wild , short year of being reprimanded by the College Administration. Before our house knew it, women weren’t allowed in our second story where the beds were, so, yeah, we moved all the beds down to the basement and slept there and stuff. This pissed Admin off but it wasn’t until we held a beer-bed floating party in the basement with strippers from Baltimore as hosts that our house got shut down! I mean, completely closed for a year!!! Can you imagine?!?! Of course, I had very little to do with any of this that I remember.

My successful political days weren’t over, but it was time for those college days to fog into post college days of running naked in the Ocala National Forest, jumping naked off lime pits east of Gainesville with 300 hundred others on any given Saturday afternoon and strolling by police cars while at a nude block party on NE 1st street here in Gainesville.  I know, I know, you’re thinking I was a nudist but, no, I wore clothes to job interviews and stuff all the time.

(Clothes on! This is the site of many Bonaparte late night ,’Chunky-dunks,’ but we can’t beat Ireland’s recent Guinness book world record-breaking 2500 nude swimmers at once!)*

All that college,’Fog,’ cleared into pot smoke that guided my way for a few more zillion years as I grew older without growing up. There’s a pill to take for that, but I forget the color!

Next thing I knew, my ears pretty much got too long for my face and my children stole my hair.

I remember waking up one day and staring into the mirror realizing very little.

I’d set down my principles and forgotten where they were unless I tripped over them while changing diapers. It was nifty earning money that was really other people’s money if I made it to the power company on time to keep the lights on. I was consumed with successful failure without notice or care but for my family. I have to say, that bunch got my attention.

I suppose it’s true to say one baby led to another and then another which led to seven others—so far.

(Here’s five of them being still all at once!?!?!)

But through it all I maintained my hat wearing image with uniquely obtuse discernment, a finesse of in-depth leadership and control.

Clearly, this is not me , but a look-a-like! Aaron is, however, wearing my glasses!!! Have you ever noticed children love to wear glasses, but that’s never good for the glasses?

As it turns out, I like to grow things, whether it be debates on issues (have you noticed), babies, grand children, properties, gardens and wrinkles….

Click the pic to see the start of hat construction and the  wrinkle lines I spent hours, days, weeks, heck, years putting on my face!!

I’m not sure what ticket I would have been on if you told me back in high school that I’d end up a  paper bag hat wearing, wrinkled eared, laughing Grandpa. Maybe, the one to the fast train to Berkeley or the over-life sleeper to the deep woods of Canada.

Yep. Throughout the laughs there was a Father in me after all. Man, this is great; a nice surprise, indeed. Who knew I had a plan all along? Me!

(This is my brother-in-law and his wife and me with my wife standing in front of what we believe was the location of my wife’s ancestor’s home. They were hat makers in Denton, England. I was making leather hats in a barn in Gainesville in the 1970’s when my wife first moved in with me! See? That’s called a plan:-)

Franque23

*https://www.cnn.com/2018/06/11/europe/irish-women-record-breaking-skinny-dip-intl/

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A spirited adventure to enliven your soul…..

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2009/10/22/engines-in-tune-halloween/

 

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Homegrown pineapples are heavenly

 

A romp in the swamp that will hook you…

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2009/06/11/hooked-in-the-head/

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gotta try on a few more hats…

The truth of the matter; it’s pure fat, er, fact…

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/the-absolute-futility-of-exercise/

 

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I could hardly get a laugh in between push-ups

How to drink and enjoy it more—A Japanese bar…

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2011/04/27/bar-up-in-nihon/

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You can bathe men/ women or separated in Japan-up to you.

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The whole country comes alive to the sight of the Sakura….

Our dog who died to live…do dogs have souls?

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2009/08/26/red-dog-forever/

Cheers! Have a great weekend…

 

Franque23

 

 


the lake from above

the lake from above-

The scene was so beautiful– one sunset gave a deep teal blue water-color, all lined in black by  High Rock, trees, hills, with a blazing red stripe that span across the whole western skyline, and above, as if an icing on a red velvet cake, whisk a band of turquoise blue. Soon, that enchanted blue gave way to a deepening, darker sky that grew to reveal the first stars of the night.

This isn't the exact shot....no where near red enough---but somehow I've lost 36 pictures taken this fall at the lake during a transfer from my camera to computer--drat!

This isn’t the exact shot….the sky’s nowhere near red enough—but somehow I’ve lost 36 pictures taken this fall at the Lake during a transfer from my camera to computer–drat!

Here's a shot more like what we saw this Fall---picture taken by another Lake Bonapartean....

Here’s a shot more like what we saw this Fall—picture taken by another Lake Bonapartean….

The loons never disappoint, their call echoing from the Twin Sister shoreline where so few cabin lights glimmered.

Loon calling---I may have clipped this from the Lake Bonaparte group on FB...Thanks for this!

Loon calling—I may have clipped this from the Lake Bonaparte group on FB…Thanks for this!**

This September had been a warm one with lake temperatures in the high seventies, the air full of breeze that fluttered leaves partly turned but for the Swamp Maple already ablaze with yellow, red and gold.

This bulletin board came form my lake, 'Happy Place'.

This bulletin board came from my Lake, ‘Happy Place’.

restful moments abound

restful moments abound…*

There was no way to suspect a two-day rain would soon drop the water to seventy-though three days after that storm, on our day to depart, warmer weather was coming to continue a sun that could heat any dock by afternoon.

I ran across the dock joined by two grandsons, seven and six, and cannon balled  splashing waves to either side. Sometimes, I even wore a suit.

I’d always thought, as do my family, relatives and friends, that being up at the Lake makes me feel good, food tastes better, I sleep soundly, and a plop in the lake before breakfast ends any fuzzes from the late night before. This dip is sound advice-the refreshing dunk makes any weather better. But, as it turns out, there’s more to the Lake than the scene, the water, the loon, the rocks, trees, hills and grassland-for us and for so many, it is a place of family, and seemingly a million options when it comes to enjoying the Lake with relatives.

Fifty-eight family members cast a cheer your way.

Fifty-eight family members cast a cheer your way.(Lach Franquemont photo)

It's so easy to reflect upon the beauty of the world up at the Lake.l

It’s so easy to reflect upon the beauty of the world up at the Lake.*

Here’s looking at you!65299_10200263764660325_1194979476_n

Goodbye for now.**

Franque23

  • *Pics by Dale Franquemont
  • ** Drafted off Lake Bonaparte FB page

Book one, Avatar Magic, and book two, The Code of Avatar Magic are on kindle now. Please enjoy this Sci-fi romance.

Book one: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B0NYO80
Book two: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KXMIIOK


The bugaboos in America’s health care system are unexpected expenses, catastrophic loss and/or cost as we age, plus the way our health care industry separates the haves from the have-nots in our society. Inherently, by design, our health care system creates another way for us to hate one another, or think of ourselves as better or worse than the rest.*

But, I  should start from the beginning, from a conversation we had in small waves…

We hit Cocoa Beach early this past Saturday just before the crowd arrived. It was a calm morning; no waves, no wind, the heat index would be high later on for sure.

The beach we prefer in Cocoa is one filled with tourists from all around the world-and you see people doing about everything on the sand.

The beach we prefer in Cocoa is filled with tourists from all around the world-and you see people doing about everything. We did have someone doing hand stands in front us, but  I’d no idea that I’d hear something this day that would turn me on my head as well.

My wife had already struck up a conversation with a Canadian by the time I’d waded out to her side, standing in ripples of waves beneath clear blue skies, the ocean horizon so easily seen.

People could stand anywhere they wanted, while big shrimp boats, cruise lines and others tanked their way well off shore...

People could stand about while big shrimp boats, cruise lines and others tanked well off shore…

It's a casual beach where people wear what they want-but mostly the college crowd goes further south to Coconuts...

People wear, or not, what they want-but mostly the college less-dressed crowd goes further south in Cocoa to Coconuts…Here, the beach is somewhat conservative, but internationally accepting of fashion and preference…I like the meeting of diverging cultures.

The surf made it easy for people of all ages to stand around in chest deep water, others did crawl strokes, or paddled a surf board. Beginners road there first ripple.

Calm waters have the advantage of teaching the young or novice how to ride out those waves.....

Calm waters can help the young or novice to learn how to ride out those waves…..

With no big swells to  body-surf, I was all ears as my wife stood in the sea and talked to her new-found Canadian friend. The man hailed from Toronto, a ‘coincidink‘ since that is the only Canadian city my wife and I have ever spent time visiting. In his late fifties, a business man, the Canadian talked about the guns in America as opposed to those not often carried in his country, but what I wanted most to hear about was his take on his country’s National health care system…

He pays a lot in taxes, but stressed what a relief it was to not worry about end of life expenditures that are bound to come, and those costs related to being a father of two and an aging man.  He remembered various family health issues, ER visits, broken limbs etc.(his son plays Hockey) that were taken care of quickly and at no additional, unexpected cost to his pocket-book! He added, Canadians have a prepaid world-wide health care system! Canadian citizens can seek health care anywhere in the world for treatments not given in his country, or for those procedures attended to better by other providers world-wide, and Canada pays for  it ALL  but for the airfare it cost Canadian citizens to get to where ever they need to go.

He poo-pooed the idea that there were long waiting periods or waiting lines for health care in his country, but he’d heard that was the rumor. I decided that anyone could come up with thousands of examples of people dying in U.S. waiting rooms if they wanted, anecdotal experiences, but that wasn’t the norm in the U.S.  And, I guessed rumors in our country were the same when it came the truth about the Canadian health care system-just anecdotal crapola.

They have secrets......American health providers, and one is that they spread endless rumors, fear, into the hearts of Americans that national health care doesn't work...especially for them, that is. Think about, where are there lines of Canadians dying to get into America????Not.

They have secrets……American health providers I mean. Their industry spreads endless rumors, fear, into the hearts of Americans that National health care doesn’t work…especially for them.

Not that I draw my conclusions from one conversation, but from many readings on the subject and simple observation. Think about it, where are there lines of Canadians dying to get into America for health care, or for any other reason????Not-!

Thing is, it gets worse, for the U.S. workers……

The man’s job, like most professional business jobs in Canada, has a paid for non contributory pension. As listed, his employer pays one-half each month of his pension cost, and then his employer also pays the other half of his liability which he can claim as a tax deduction! (In effect, he pays nothing, but gets to claim 1/2 of his pension contribution cost on his taxes as a deduction as if he had paid it! )This is routine in Canada-a working man’s benefit.

The small ocean waves rolled by as I thought this over. The man has paid for life health care for his entire family, no worries there, and a routine, run-of-the-mill pension in Canada that ensures his well-being in retirement. I started to think about the Canadians’ I’d met while in Toronto and how relaxed they all seemed-happy. No wonder.

To be fair, housing in Canada is something like California’s housing market on steroids, but those snow hounds can afford the prices, and sit back as their pensions add up, and the people are covered for every medical emergency. This is a far cry from what it’s like to be a working American. Sad, for us.

So about those waves that eased on by-I thought I’d glide with one for about ten feet to get the nothing of a thrill.

No one was worried about the big waves coming, but bobbed about in the easy up and down drift of the day's ocean current.

No one was worried about the big waves coming as we all bobbed up and down in the easy drift.

I launched off my feet to hit the top of a two footer when something completely unexpected happened!  I hit some sort of vortex, not a rip tide mind you, but a weirdness that sunk my relaxed body straight down through the water and smashed me face-first along the ocean’s bottom. The non-wave then pushed me along the sand, scraping my nose and, actually, I’d thought I’d possibly broken it. I stood up in calm waist-deep water where children played nearby and couldn’t fathom what had just happened. It was all too shocking, and that small wave made me totally get the power of the ocean-it all starts with small waves.

The thing is, society usually starts to bring about powerful change with small conversations that build between people as waves do in the ocean, as one small wave builds to the next. Eventually, those conversations can become a roar that is heard nation wide, one that can’t be ignored by the leaders anymore. The Vietnam protests are a perfect example of a powerful wave of change. That protest didn’t start with hundreds of thousands of people in Washington, D.C. It started with small, connected conversations. Maybe, like this one.

Start or keep talking about the wave of changes you think America needs to go through in the coming years. Voices have ways of echoing, expanding, and if we continue talking, eventually our leaders will have to listen.

Franque23

*Result of listening to my wife think out loud…..

Book one, Avatar Magic and book two, The Code of Avatar Magic are on kindle now.


Okay, let’s get down to it. Mother’s Day is really about Mom’s Incredible Expanding Center.

Twelve basketballs later, this mom was still eating!

Twelve basketballs later, this mom was still eating!

Women have this thing going on that can’t be normal. It’s called nature, but  I say it’s all freaky. There isn’t a guy on the planet that ever plans on expanding to twice their size to deliver-not gonna happen. Here’s why-it ain’t normal.

That’s right.  Somewhere way back during evolution Mother Nature got it wrong and decided children should be born.

Children grown on trees is a much better idea.

Random idea for this post:

Huge pegs don't fit thru small holes......

Huge pegs aren’t meant to go thru small holes……

See below? There’s a large glob of baby that’s hoping to fit through a small opening….

Look at the phyisics...nothing is working.

Look at the physics…nothing is working.

Heck, just ask any mom how that birthing process goes pain wise and you’ll know it’s all wrong. And what ever happened to the pleasure-pain principle of running or staying put!?!? You’d think women would never sleep after all this birthing history, at least not in beds. No, if evolution held true, women would all be track stars or astronauts by now. (Remember , there are also twins, heck even six-packs of newborn siblings come along sometimes).

Eons of not learning.

Eons of not learning.

It’s important to tell a pregnant woman how nice she looks, since everyone knows people were never meant to resemble bowling balls with feet.

“You look lovely.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Just how many of you are there, anyway?” Asked no living guy.

There’s usually about fifty pounds of an expectant mother you just can’t miss. But it’s okay-very weird-if women want to be three times the size of any other living person. Whatever—this expand-o-max routine works especially well in plane seats, movie theaters, narrow hallways, cars and couches. Nature has it all planned, for elephants. Thing is, there’s an idea or two missing when it comes to women giving birth.

For one, everyone knows babies need nourishment but Nature has that screwed up for people, too…

Eat up mom!

Eat up mom!

Who ever said size doesn’t matter never gave birth or had to walk around a pregnant woman.

Try to stay off your feet until after the baby's born.

I keep thinking about those things society used to use called phone booths. “I’ve got to call the hospital; the baby’s coming!” How did that work?

It’s all a bit screwy. Other animals have this  worked out-they give birth to small things that triple in size almost over night once they’re down and out the shoot. Not people. No, people like to give birth to babies with huge heads, and that part comes out first! “Perfect!”, said no mother during delivery.

All this should be happening on a children tree.

All this should be happening on a children tree.

People, every one of us, are freaks of nature. Maybe, that’s the problem with Mankind. God, or the Gods, placed bets that none of us would ever happen. When we did, they just threw up their hands and began to drink heavily.

I guess we’re all miracles, and most of all-Mother’s.

I hope you have a huge, Happy Mother’s Day.

Franque23

here are links for both of my books in the Avatar Magic Series:
Book one, Avatar Magic and book two, The Code of Avatar Magic are on kindle now.

There was an odd thing about this latest cruise-I couldn’t lose weight no matter how much I ate!*

Honestly, I stayed dedicated to the diet, the attempt of a lifetime, certain to drain some of those unwanted pounds right into the ocean, but it was a no go.

I tried every thing.

Maybe, this guy did, too.

Maybe, not everything…

 

No amount of fruit-all kinds- or drinks, smashes, frozen, a zillion shots in one cup!, beer(s) on tap, iced funny named booze, rum-filled pineapples that mysteriously looked like coconuts to me by day four, hot coffee, cold soda and one million gallons of water-forget it, nothing washed away the pounds!

I hammered the pork loin, roast beef, filet mignon(s), Chateaubriand-I can’t Belize how much they expected me to eat. But, I only ate two lobsters-this the weakest link of my feel and look young again planned execution for the cruise.

I had a solid, well thought out plan in place.

I had a solid, well thought out plan in place.

Lobsters swam through my dreams by night; veggies up the kazoo filled my plate by day. Omelets included kitchen sinks, and why not bacon, sausage, and chicken fingers for breakfast(?). I was tempted to pass up the cookies but never the flanges, meringues, I never tasted mango cream pie like that-not to mention the mango soup-but was there a type of cake I missed?-I think not. Still, I knew several helpings of cherry, blueberry or whatever berry crumb pie wouldn’t tilt my scale an inch. NO. I needed something more, but what?

Late night BUFFETS had to be the key to losing weight.

Of course, there was still a chance those mid-afternoon fix-a-stomach-slump piled a mile high burgers and fat fries would do the trick. Lord knows having four appetizers before dinner had failed miserably. Added to my chagrin, fellow sail-mate, Mike, could very well have been out eating me! I could see his face getting thinner by the day!

In the end, there was still more to eat.

I mean, one day is only one day. It was time to eat on. That’s when those late night pizza’s, sandwiches, surprise open buffet-Look more deserts!- came in handy to the plate before me. Fortunately for my eat away fat plan, the plates offered resembled foot ball fields that had been molded upward at the edges and stacked so they might be passed off as lunch/dinner dishes. They barely cleared the doorways. It was so simple to choose what to take from the selections offered-everything would fit nicely on those plates.

This cruiser was starting to get the idea.....

This cruiser was starting to get the idea…..

Foodish cruisin’ connoisseurs needed a fork and a fork lift to help haul food plates around as they selected seating. Mostly, the passengers were your average folk.

Some looked familiar.

Some looked familiar.

Others had a vague look in their eye, like ones  seen on mathematicians or scientists.

Others had a vague look in their eye, like ones seen on the faces of mathematicians or scientists.

It was around Thursday, the fifth day of this cruising for losing voyage,  when my eat-the-galley-empty platform began to kick in. The ocean had been rockin’ for days, now my stomach had learned the tune. Nah, I wasn’t sea-sick, not at all-loved the rocking.(perk for alcoholics–no one could tell a drunk from someone sober when most people were banging against stairwells and corridor walls as they motivated to the next buffet line-honest.) Anyway, it was on Thursday afternoon when I looked upon the beautiful Caribbean turquoise waters and knew I’d succeeded.  I couldn’t eat another thing! I was done, finished, call it a wrap, over, full, completely out of the eating running game….until dinner. Those two hours were amazing, but for the hamburger…

Random idea-thought I’d float this on by.

images (23)The Spa really needs to add mouth stretching to its list of optional treatments.

About those burgers. The miracle was there. You get one, simple cheese burger and then float by a buffet add-on deal. Pickles, onion, olives, peppers, chili peppers, mushrooms, need more lettuce? and what about that special sauce anyway? Thing is, by the time I reached the other end of the maybe add this bar I didn’t have a hamburger anymore. It was more like a miniature Mount Everest had settled on my plate, and then it soon landed in my stomach.

I think this guy forgot the onions.....

I think this guy forgot the onions…..

I remember thinking that my stomach had come to resemble a ski-slope. That’s why I went down the three water work slides-somehow it all made sense.

When I add up the cost of all the food I diligently ate in an effort to lose weight, I figure the cruise ship lost about five thousand dollars on me. NO need to worry-I noticed most nights people were only eating one or two entrees at dinner. Certainly, the normal run-of-the-mill guest didn’t touch the five entrees I’d once ordered on a cruise some time back.( I am forever family famous for that as being one who’d mastered a gluttonous expertise.)

The SunShine six! Funny how the police give you a name and it somehow sticks!

The SunShine six! Funny how the police give you a name and it somehow sticks!

It is with a remorseful sense of failure to comply to the strictest of standards when it comes to dietary eating that I must confess I am not lacking a single pound that I’d carried on board that ship at the start of the cruise. NO, the chocolate mousse, cheese Danish, Russian knock-offs and Istanbul wannabe cream puffs, the meringues, melting cups, cheese cakes, so many flange cakes of every flavor, those dang mango mille feuilles and panna cottas all went for naught.

I stared out our cabin window wondering where all that food i"d eaten had gone?!?! Then, I looked down. (Hint:Never look down on a cruise.)

I stared out our cabin window wondering where all that food I’d eaten had gone?!?! Then, I looked down. (Hint: Never look down on a cruise.)

Thing is, nothing worked about my plan, and I blame this all on those two nights I passed up the cream brulee. What was I thinking! I guess there’s always next time. “Try harder!” That’s what dad used to say.

Franquefood.

* Absolutely my wife’s joke.

here are links for both of my books in the Avatar Magic Series:
Book one, Avatar Magic and book two, The Code of Avatar Magic are on kindle now.

 

 

 


The Man with a Wave….
 

I first saw him very close to New Year’s day. It was early morning. He stood by the roadside wearing a tattered suit coat that hung loosely from his shoulders. To his back stretched a long dirt road that was lined on each side by towering oaks. I imagined the man to be as old as they were. He was about six feet tall, thin, and I thought at once he should have a cane to help support his stature against the wind, but his hands were free. He donned a grey, wide-brimmed crumpled hat, and then he waved.

This is the exact intersection where I first and last  saw the man with the wave

This is the exact intersection where I first and last saw the man with the wave(pictured 30 years later)

The man’s wave startled me and my cup of coffee. It was a simple wave, one he capped off with an earnest smile.  I never could have guessed I’d see him so many days from then on, standing by his lonesome along the roadside waving to me each morning, or in my memory so vividly some thirty years later.

It is a simple intersection like one million others, but it has meant so much to me.

It’s a simple intersection like one million others, but it has meant so much to me.

 I found myself waving back to this man each day as I zoomed on to work. I’d yell out, “The man with the wave!” and extend my hand toward the man in triumphant affirmation that life was good. The event became so important to my mental health that each morning I hoped the man would be in place to issue the new day and my life his ‘official’ greeting. If not, I got gloomy. Who’d have ever have thought a wave could do that?

The months passed, soon a year slipped by. But, he was still there by the roadside every morning, waving to me and making my day. I often wondered if he’d walked down the dirt road to the hard top just to wave to me. I thought it possible that someone dropped him off at the corner.  Maybe he was waiting for a bus or, perhaps, for another person to pick him up? Certainly, he must have realized by my return smile and wave how his simple gesture of kindness lifted my spirits! I wish I’d asked, or told him.

I never stopped to speak with this man. Why? In retrospect I can say that his wave meant so much to me that there seemed to be no need to expand our interaction! I carried his wave and smile with me all day as I assumed he would mine-or so I hoped. Then, it happened.

The first few days I didn’t see the man with a wave found me holding out hope that I’d see him the next.  More than once, I waved at the empty roadside corner, and peered down the dirt road hoping to see if he was coming along the way. This went on for weeks.

.IMG0026B

I quickly looked down the road to see if the man was there as I drove past.

But, finally, I had to give up hope. His absence was a bitter loss. My heart found peace only when I promised myself never to forget the man with the wave, and how his smile and raised hand had meant so much to me. I also promised to write his story.

So, now you know.

I'll never know how his life went, only what he gave to me in passing.

I’ll never know how his life went, only what he gave to me in passing.

Every day around this time of year I remember the man with a wave. I smile to a stranger and raise my hand to say hello as I pass them by. I owe that to the mysterious man who gave me his wave. Plus, it’s fun to see people’s faces light up when I greet them for no apparent reason. Of course, secretly, I hope that they, too, will never forget.

Happy Holidays. Peace.

Franque23.

here are the links for both of my books in the Avatar Magic Series:
Book one, Avatar Magic and book two, The Code of Avatar Magic are on kindle now.

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