Wednesday, February 14, 2007

A Story of I Love You

On a Saturday morning, when I was about 3 or 4 years-old, I was still sleeping, at least I think I was. It couldn't have been Saturday, because I had dancing lessons. It must been some other morning . . . . any day but Saturday.

I was tucked away in my bed. Just beyond my headboard was the doorway to my parents' room. A knocking sounded in the bedroom, a heavy man's hand on that headboard, and I heard my father's voice say, "Baby Doll, Can you hear me? Baby Doll Come on in here."

Well, I was up and into his bedroom. I jumped unto his bed, and we talked awhile. Then he sang my favorite songs. I like the "Big Rock Candy Mountain." It made me think of rock candy he bought me once so that I'd know what it was when we sang the song. I liked to sing the "Green Grass Grows All Around." We sang that one together. It lasts a very long, very long, very long time. He would make his voice way, way, way, way down low like it was in the ground.

Then, he grabbed me and held me in the biggest, tightest bear hug.

"Let me go, Daddy. Let me go!" I said, as I struggled to get free.

He laughed a jolly laugh. My mother came to see what the ruckus was.

"Mom, Mommy, help me. Help me."

"No," she said. "You got yourself into this mess. You find your way out."

"Let me go, Daddy. Let me go!" I said, as I struggled even harder. I knew it was useless.

He laughed and tickled me mercilessly.

"Let me go, Daddy. Let me go!" I begged.

"Give me three good reasons," he finally said, as he always did. Always three good reasons were his rule.

Then I knew I was about to be free.

The three good reasons were easy, and they always worked.

So I struggled just a little more.

Then I said them all in a row, reasons one, two, and three.

"I love you. I love you. I love you more than the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and the mountains, and the green, green, grass that grows around tree."

He let go, and I started tickling him.

After all he deserved it -- every bit of love.
--me strauss Letting me be

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Awah Liz your story brings back memories of my dad tickling me and then my brother joining in the tickle fight. I'd usually start crying by the end of it not being able to laugh or contain myself any longer. LOL. Always good fun though!

Happy Valentines Day Sweetie.
xo

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Jessica!
If I couldn't get away I would, but my dad couldn't stand to see me cry. My brother on the other hand, I think . . . on some days it was his goal -- whether he knew it might be the question. :)

dsnake1 said...

oh Liz, what a heart-warming story!

Lovely.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Dsanke,
Thank you! it was fun to shre it with you!

Anonymous said...

Sweet story although myself I hate getting tickled. Unless it's my kids doing it...

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Lolly said...

How Sweet! I'll have to send this to my son. I want him to have moments like this with his daughter.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Adventure Dad,
I hate getting tickled too. To this day, my big brothers try it and they do it just because I don't like it. . . . oh brothers. :)

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Lolly!
Thank you for this comment. That's one that makes my day worth it. :)