A Berry Picker From Way Back

Yes, it's true, I am a berry picker from way back

My mother paid us to pick berries. There was no slack

She would pay by the pail. My brother would wail

"All I can smell is berries." He dreamed of when he could sail.

He joined the Navy as soon as he could and moved away,

never to pick berries again. He moved with his wife, and they

come home once a year, but he never picks those berries again

~

I went to my in-laws to pick berries with my sister-in-law when

she asked me to. I wrapped the bucket around my waist and then

it was full before her's was halfway full. She wanted to know how

I did that and I said, I'm a berrry picker from way back and took a bow!

My daughter stopped by, she lived just across the street.

She picked a small amount and had to go. She offered me a treat

I said I was almost done and would be right with her.

~

On her way out, the father-in-law hollered and had a jeer

He admonished her for picking his berries, and I wasn't clear

as I approached the scene and made it known we were only picking

those berries for his boy, as I don't like raspberries, and she was helping

me with that job because his daughter asked me to pick with her.

I felt bad for my daughter and then felt bad that it happened. Yes sir

it was a bad experience. A few days later, apologies were given.

~

Turns out he was developing dementia, and that is part of liven

sometimes it happens, and it happened to him. I was so surprised.

I have never seen him like that. I gave my daughter his prized

berries and didn't hesitate to tell his son what happened and what

my reaction was. You can pick your own berries. And that his dad was a nut

When I found out it was dementia, I felt bad. He couldn't help it.

I still have never gone back, and my husband eats every bit

of his raspberries by the bushes with the grands before coming in.

He must think I hold a grudge. I don't, and I can take it on the chin.

I don't hold a grudge, I smile and have a little grin.