The Kiddie Pool
Someday, when I take down the kiddie pool, there will be a big circle of dead grass on the lawn. I should have taken it down ages ago, but part of me still thinks that maybe Meredith will bring the kids down again, and they'll want to play in it.
Her little ones--Adam and Sarah--could almost be twins, with their red hair and milk-white skin speckled with amber. They used to fly down every summer just to see me, and I'd set up the pool and mercy, did they have themselves a good time. Tickled me pink just watching them squeal and splash. But it's been a long time, because their trips get farther and farther apart, and one of these days they'll outgrow me altogether.
Not that I'm complaining. Lord knows I want them to be happy more than anything. And while it does get a mite lonely, I've still got the cats.
I'd never thought to get myself a pet, but one day I was sitting on the porch swing when all of a sudden I felt silky fur rubbing against my leg. That was Petey, as I named him later, and he was the first of the cats.
Who knows where they come from? I don't mind the strays wandering in; they keep me company, give me something to look forward to. They like the kiddie pool--not to swim in, of course, but to drink out of. So it stays. To tell the truth, I don't have the heart to actually dispose of it...it reminds me of happy times. And what if I got rid of it, and then Meredith brought the kids down and they wanted to swim?
I'll have to take it down someday, and then there will be a circle of dead grass on the lawn. But until then, I've got my dear Lord Jesus and the cats. And that's enough for an old woman like me.
