Dr. Larry’s Patented Home Remedy

Joseph and a group of friends had just graduated from IU.  The president made a speech, the band played, parents cheered; students crossed the stage and moved their tassels.  It was finished.  Joe received his MBA.  He and his friends stood around talking and congratulating each other.  They were still wearing their caps and gowns and clustered like a copse of short trees.  Each held his diploma as if it were the Magna Charta.  It was a brilliant Saturday afternoon in late spring. 

“Joe, let’s go knock back a few and celebrate,” they said. 

“You know I don’t drink.” 

“We know that but just this one time.  We may not see each other again for a long time.  Let’s do it for old time’s sake.”

“I’m sorry fellows but not today. I want to celebrate with Grampa and Gramma Story.    Without them I would not be here today.” 

“Oh, come on Joe, they won’t mind.  I’m sure they will understand how young people like to celebrate.  They were young once.”

“Sorry fellows.  Grampa and Gramma raised me.  My parents went off to Africa when I was about 10 years old.  They were involved in mysticism, the occult and using powerful psychedelic drugs, searching for deeper meaning to life, to find "themselves."  They only planned to be gone for a short while. No one has heard from them since.   

They shook hands all around, Joe bade them a fond farewell and walked through the shady campus to the parking area.  In the stone parking lot sat a beater of an old car with more miles on it than a hotdog rolling on the warmer at a truck stop.  It didn’t look like it would make it around the block much less home.    Two people were standing in the shade beside it. Waiting.   They saw Joe and smiled so widely they could have eaten a banana sideways. 

They were wearing gently used clothing.  Not only was it not in style, it didn’t fit very well.  It was obvious that they had used their discretionary money for things other than the latest clothing styles.  Their shoes were polished but well worn down in the heels.  Grandpa’s old suit was a bit tight in some places and sagged in others.  His tie was not in the same county with style.  Gramma’s dress was clean but faded and her hair was not coiffed in the latest style.  Her shoes and purse did not match. They lived in a very modest old house that had not been maintained very well over the past several years.  The weight of many years pushed down upon it causing it to sag.  There just didn’t seem to be enough money to go around and when push came to shove the house had to wait.

Joey, smiling like a mule eating green briars, hugged them both. 

“We are so proud of you, Joey,” Gramma said with tears of joy in her eyes. 

Grampa shook Joe’s hand and said, “You did it son.  I couldn’t be more proud of you than I am today.  When they read your name I thought I would bust.  My eyes began leaking.  I was so proud.” 

Joe all smiles said, “I am proud to have you as my Gramma and Grampa.  Thank you for helping me.  You mean everything to me.”

“Joey, now if you want to go and be with your friends we understand and we’ll just go on home,” Gramma offered. 

Joe said quickly, “I would rather be with you two more than anyone else in this world.  Where would I be without you?  You gave me a home and helped pay my way through school.  I don’t owe one cent while many of my friends are looking up at student loans of thousands of dollars.”

“But you worked too, Joey and helped all you could.  We couldn’t have done it without what you did,” Grampa beamed. 

“That may be,” said Joey, “we did it together and that is why we must go and celebrate together.  I have just enough money left for dinner at Stewarts.”

“We are honored, Joey, would you like to drive old Blue?”  The old beater Blue belched out a cloud of smoke and they slowly moved down the shady street to the sunlit future.