I love it, too; had seen it once before, but more enjoyable each time I read it again. thanks for a terrific post.
Sandy ----- Original Message ----- From: "helen" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Wednesday, July 02, 2008 6:28 PM Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: S - H - M - I - L - Y > > Oh I love this! Thanks for sharing. Yet again! > > Helen > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "steve doyle" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > To: <[email protected]> > Sent: Sunday, June 29, 2008 7:43 AM > Subject: [RecipesAndMore] S - H - M - I - L - Y > > > S - H - M - I - L - Y > > My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own > special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game > was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. > They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of > them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more. > > They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour > containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it > in > the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed > us > warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. "Shmily" was written in > the > steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath > after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of > toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet. There was no end to > the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled > hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering > wheels. > > The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was > written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the > fireplace. This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' > house > as the furniture. It took me a long time before I was able to fully > appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in > true love, one that is pure and enduring. > > However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down > pat. It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of > life. > > Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which > not everyone is lucky to experience. Grandma and Grandpa held hands every > chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in > their > tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily > crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma whispered to me about how > cute > my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that > she really knew "how to pick 'em." > > Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at > their > blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other. > > But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my grandmother had > breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. > > As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in > their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded > by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside. > > Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and > my > grandfather' s steady hand, they went to church every morning. > > But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not > leave > the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying > to > God to watch over his wife. > > Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone. > "Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother' > s > funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to > leave, > my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and > gathered > around Grandma one last time. > > Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother' s casket and, taking a shaky breath, > he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a > deep > and throaty lullaby. Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that > moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of > their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty. > > S-h-m-i-l-y: means See How Much I Love You. > > A single candle can illuminate an entire room. A true friend lights up > an entire lifetime. Thanks for the bright lights of your friendship. > > > > > --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ Access the Recipes And More list archives at: http://www.mail-archive.com/recipesandmore%40googlegroups.com/ Visit the group home page at: http://groups.google.com/group/RecipesAndMore -~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---
