Poetry Vault: Fresh Apples / Remembering to Love

March 24, 2006 • Friday  // Revised March 29, 2011.  (Republished 11/30/23)

"Hey kid there's only one life to live,
take the risk and love..."

 These words    f l o w e d    through my being for years and years without meaning...

The old man who stood on the corner of Elm street sold apples, and always smelled like old spice.

 He spoke those words directly into my life one day... his wisdom simple, yet memorable.

 I remember the smell of apples and cologne seeping from his skin... That day, the air was sticky and the old man was hard at work, like he always was. There was an ever-present sense of goodness about him, I used to tell him that he reminded me of Mr.Roger from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, a television show I often watched as a child. 

 During the summers I'd sit for hours with with the old man, working for him picking and selling the apples. He was always hard at work, but never seemed like he needed the money.

The old man always carried a weathered brown leather wallet packed up full of cash. He lived in a great big cream-colored mansion in the center of town. The gentle old soul would always take me out to dinner or ice-cream after a long day of selling apples on the street corner. We never made much money selling them though,  because the old man nearly gave them away- selling them for much less than their worth. He was known to often give them away to the neighborhood children and the working men that passed by. And during our chats he would tell tails of the adventures his youth afforded him- he would speak the stories of his life, with a deeply nostalgic look in his eyes.

 Imparting unto me the wisdom of his years- lessons that lingered...

as the years passed.

 

But all too soon I grew too old and wise for the old man. I was far too big for my britches and my 'wisdom' led me to believe there were things better and bigger than, "That old man, this town and crusty old Elm street."

A very many days have passed since those of apple picking and story telling.

 I moved on to university but always kept in contact with the old man, I'd often receive boxes full of apples and apple sauce - tangible reminders of his Love, where I'd been, where I came from and the Elm Street I’d left behind. 

One day I received an especially heavy package containing a crate of apples, three bottles of apple sauce, an envelope with a letter, a newspaper clipping and one other envelope filled to capacity with crisp $100 bills. 

As I unfolded the newspaper clipping the joy of the surprise suddenly slipped away....a tear began forming in my right eye as I read the headline - "Sweet Ol'Joe has passed away." 

The article spoke of his life, how he'd grown up in town, born into a wealthy family and how he always tried to give back to our community.

I couldn't control the tears as they began uncontrollably pouring out of my eyes.  I tried to pull myself together, put the newspaper down and picked up the second envelope.

Unfolded the letter and read:

"Hey kid, I suppose if you're reading this then the cancer got the best of me, but hey don't worry we'll sit at heavens' gate and we’ll give apples to the saints together again one day! But seriously kid -I gave you the best of me, I taught you everything I know, about how things grow... the seasons that come and go-- the good and the bad… the world isn't all good you know? 

Sometimes it’s harder than you think you can deal with but kid there's only one life to live, so just remember to take the risk and love.

 Ps. I’m leaving you some money, it’s not too much so don't spend it all in one place.

Love Old Joe-"

I read and re-read the last line of the letter aloud over and over and over again. These words were very familiar to me, he said them nearly everyday I was with him even if his story had nothing to with love he would always say,

 "Kid there's only one life to live, take the risk and love."

 My father later told me that old Joe once had a wife and son but they died the winter Joe was away fighting in the war. I asked the old man a few times about them, but he'd always change the subject saying something like, "Apple season is almost over kid, soon we'll have to plant seeds." Later he would say something like, "There's are a lot of unfortunate things that happen in life, but still you only get one life to live so take the  risk and love"

take the risk and love...

                          

                                                take the risk and love...

t      a       k     e              t h e          r   i   s  k .  .  .  

so I did.

  

 I think the old man would be proud.

-MetaMorphosis- the poet.  —> Kindness is the Butterfly now (revised by Kindness Calloway on 11/30/23)