It had been a spectacular day and all the town’s hoopla had been for his sake. What more could he want? Evelyn had gone on home and left him with his thoughts. He needed a bit of quiet time to mull over the last fifteen years of his life. The reporters, photographers, city fathers, and state representatives had been there for the dedication of this building named for him—the J. Frank Marteen Cathedral. A great honor indeed! Only one thing missing, also named for him, John Frank Marteen, Jr, a lonely son who scorned him.
ABOUT ME
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
I think Dad has a heap of repentance to become humble enough to seek out his son. Maybe Son will learn to accept material goods instead of time from his dad. Maybe Son will want a new Benz instead of Dad’s attention. Sad.
I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
Sweet aroma 
Guess, fame is not always the best thing in life
Thank you for the comment. Some people pay high for a big ego booster. I loved you FF story.
Let’s hope his mulling bears fruit
Time for a talk, all right.
The honor means less when there’s this sort of broken relationship. I hope it’s not too late to reconcile. Nicely written piece!
Great story with thoughtful spin for a FF past. Thank you.
I got up this morning with a nudge from God about that one. Thanks.
Perhaps a change in direction is coming… if his son will allow him back into his life!
I think Dad has a heap of repentance to become humble enough to seek out his son. Maybe Son will learn to accept material goods instead of time from his dad. Maybe Son will want a new Benz instead of Dad’s attention. Sad.
Oneta,
Great story. Finally honors and accolades can’t trump love and its loss. Hopefully he’ll try and fix that.
pax,
dora
Hope so. Otherwise Son will not likely know how to be a Father.