Sunday, September 8, 2019

Afi (short story) by Leanne Dyck (2 of 2)

At the end of part one of this two-part short story, I was just about to read my story about my afi (grandpa) to my amma (grandpa). Here I go... 

Afi (continued)

"I am sure in your life you have met someone who really made a lasting impression on you. Possibly they taught you how to look at life and maybe even yourself a little differently. This special person in my life was my afi.

"Afi once told me that if you were liked by both little children and dogs you had to be doing something right.

"He was and he did. You would probably like to know his secret. Well, it was not really that mysterious. In fact, it was a very logical approach. He was always the straight goods. He never tried to hide any aspect of his character. Nor did he try to create a ribbon and bow effect. It would have been nearly impossible to camouflage any aspect of his strong character, anyway. So, why try?

"Case in point, he was as stubborn as an old mule." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amma grin. "And very opinionated. Yet he did not try to push his ideas on anyone. This was not what Afi hoped to do by stating his views. His goal, instead, was discussion. He had the love of debate of a lawyer."

Amma sniffled and pulled a tissue out of her sleeve. 

"I'm sorry, Amma. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'll stop."

"Oh, no, Elsken." She gave me a smile. "They're tears of joy. Please keep reading your story."

"He would argue that white was black if he thought it would lead to a debate. It was like an obsession with him. Freedom of thought, action, and discussion rated high in his books. He viewed debates not only as a parley of words but also as a sharing of thought. He regarded each person no matter what age, sex or race as having something special to share. Gregarious was his nature and debating his tool."


"The end," I said so that Amma would know I was done.

"Oh, Elsken, that's wonderful. You are a wordsmith."

When I graduated from high school Amma gave me a pen and pencil set.

"So you'll continue to write, Elsken." She told me with a hug.

Next Sunday evening...

Bunny by Mona Awad
'Just me and them in a room with no visible escape route for two hours and twenty minutes. Every week for thirteen weeks.' Workshop is protagonist Samantha Heather Mackey's personal hell.