Life of Bry - My journal about my grandson

Bryan (Bry) is a grandson of Daniel Jackson. When Bry was young he moved to Pittsburgh, PA. When Jaya Cotic sensed Dan's sorrow she bought him a diary and a pencil and told him to WRITE STORIES about himself and Bry. This is the result.

The Journal

Shortly before your third birthday, your mom called me and without coming right out about it, let me know that she was leaving Houston to return to Pittsburgh, her home. She knew you loved me and I loved you and that we would like to have as much time together as possible before you, she, and your pets made the move.
I was terrible unhappy. Why? Because I was afraid you'd forget me. I'd never forget you, but would you remember me? What about your trips to the zoo? What about our breakfast with your Dad at Shipley's? Would you remember that I changed your diapers, dressed you, bathed you, took your pictures, put you down for naps, always held you as close as I could?
And now you were going 1500 miles away. Yes, I could call you on the phone. I could send you toys, more stuffed animals. But would you remember?
To help me stop worrying, I asked my friend, Dr. Kraft. You know he's a child psychiatrist and has lots of information. He told me right off, "Bryan will never forget you." But that didn't help. There were tears in my eyes; he offered me a Kleenex.
Then he suggested I buy a tree, a small one and call it Bryan's Tree. So, Gram and I went to Teas  Nursery and picked out a small tree, about as tall as you. Actually, it wasn't a tree; it was a hawthorn bush that had been trimmed and shaped into a tree.
I asked Jesse, our yardman, to dig a hole in the front yard so we could put your tree into the ground. After that was done, I went to your house on Havana and brought you back so you could be part of the planting. You were wearing a little white suit and, of course, a baseball cap.
When the tree was in the ground and dirt packed around its roots, I leaned a sign against it that said, "BRYAN'S TREE 8-29-88."
Next came the picture taking. Remember, you were just two years old and in "the terrible twos." It took a lot of coaxing for me to get you to stand next to your tree. I took two quick snaps, then you walked away, sat down on the front porch, and refused to come back. I had to be satisfied with one more shot of you, on the porch, away from your tree.
So you left for Pittsburgh with your mom and Chauncey and other pets. Your tree did well, pretty pink flowers, leaves changing to red and yellow at different times of the year.
Then, three years ago, when we landscaped the back yard, Gram had your tree moved to the back yard because she had never liked it up front. But the spot where it was transplanted didn't hold too well and it began to lean over.
The next move, to a corner of the yard, was a bad one. I don't know what happened but soon all but a few leaves turned brown and fell off. I tried watering, fertilizer, rooting compound - even did a dance, but no good. Bryan's Tree #1 was gone.
Now we're up to Tree #2. You remember when you and I went to Teas? You wanted a fruit tree so we went to that section of the nursery and you picked out a dwarf apple tree, Anne.
I wrote you that the last invaders were mites and I've sprayed Anne twice with Kelthane. She's enjoying warm, rainy weather and showing light green leaves. Maybe no apples this year but I'll be next year.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

You might remember when the next story took place, though you were probably about 2 1/2 years old. It was a Sunday afternoon after visiting Ab and your Dad and Gram and me for the weekend. Your mom was supposed to pick you up at about 4 o'clock, but she was running late.
The later it got, the more tense Gram got because she didn't want to see or talk to your mom (they weren't exactly friends). So Gram wouldn't fret, I took you into the garden room so she wouldn't see or hear us. By now, I was pretty tense myself.
I asked you to help me with the plants and you wanted to water them. I gave you the hose. I hoped your mom would hurry to take you home so we could relax. Then I heard a crash. Your watering hose had bumped a pot and it had fallen to the floor.
That did it! I began to scold you, to blame you for not being careful.
Your reaction took me by surprise; it was so simple, so deep, so full of meaning. You bowed your head and softly began to cry.
I felt foolish. I had hurt the person I loved so much that I was unable to say a word. Something had punched me in the pit of my stomach and I couldn't talk or breathe or move. I was a damn fool to take my tenseness out on such a beautiful person as you. I held you in my arms until we both felt better.
Several weeks later, at Steve's suggestion, I called you (you were in Pittsburgh) and apologized for yelling at you. Do you remember? Even as I write this, I relive the pain and embarrassment at my stupid reaction to such a minor mistake.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

Do you ever wonder how you learned to act in certain ways? How to position your head when you are listening to a song? Where to put your feet when you want to bunt? How to hold a sword when you play at dueling? Well, let me tell you a story about us and what you learned.
You were small, still in diapers, no shoes or socks, visiting Gram and me. I heard the noise of a machine outside so I called to you and we went out front. There was a backhoe digging a trench on our neighbor's front lawn. A water pipe had broken and had to be replaced. I stood as close to the trench as I could so I could look into the hole while they were fixing the pipe.
But even though I positioned my feet near the hole, I could not see as well as I wanted to. So I bent forward to get a better view. Then there was a problem: What to do with my hands? Easy. I put them on my hips. As I did so, I turned to look at you; you had bent over and when you saw what I did with my hands, you put yours on your hips.
So you learned: When you bend forward to examine something you must put your hands on your hips.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~


Shortly before your third birthday, you and your mom moved from Houston to Pittsburgh. I made plans and soon was on my way to visit you. From the Pittsburgh airport, I took a cab to the Holiday Inn and then took a cab to your grandma's house where you and your mom were living.
Your mom and grandma met me at the kitchen door and told me you had run to the back of the house to hide from me. I went looking for you, found you in a small room under a sewing machine. You were in play clothes, holding a ball. Your face was dirty. You looked frightened, which I couldn't understand because we had always been good friends.
In a moment, I understood.
"Grandpa," you said, "please don't take me to the airport."
"Bryan," (you weren't "Bry" yet) "I'm not taking you to the airport."
"Don't take me to Texas," you pleaded.
"No, Bryan, I won't take you to Texas. Don't worry."
Then I went back to the kitchen and asked your grandma for a moist washcloth. I wiped your dirty face until it was clean. That made you feel better. Then I picked you up and took you to the kitchen. The four of us talked for a while, had something to drink, and I gave out presents to all.
You felt better about me an so we went to the hotel, played in the pool, had dinner and put together puzzles in the room all evening.
The next day we went to the Carnegie Museum especially to see the dinosaurs.
It was a beautiful weekend for me.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

When I was about 12, I had lots of friends, boys my age who met after school to play all kinds of games. In the alley behind our house we attached a basketball hoop on a telephone pole to play basketball. It didn't matter that the alley was covered with ashes from every home's coal furnace. It made dribbling uncertain and if I fell, I'd tear my pants and scrape my knees. There are still some ashes under the skin of my left knee.
When the weather turned bad, like rain or snow, we'd play a game using broomsticks about two feet long. The first person would throw his stick, point first, into some thick mud. The next player would throw his stick into the mud hoping it would stick and at the same time knock over the first person's stick. If it stuck, but didn't knock over the first player's stick, it was then the third player's turn. If a player's stick remained upright and knocked over another player's stick, then the following took place: The person who succeeded in doing that would take both sticks out of the mud and use his stick like a bat to hit the other person's stick as far as he could. The other person would race to get his stick and hurry back to throw his stick into the mud, standing, before the hitter  could throw his stick into the mud three times. Too hard to understand? Ask me about it.
Then, mumbly-peg: Each player has to hold his jackknife - or do you know how to play it? How about "Buck Buck, How Many Fingers Up?" Or Red Rover?
We played lots of softball, some football, later tennis, and at camp, volleyball. We lived and played in hills so if a ball got loose, it would roll downhill, often far away. Someone would run like mad to get it back: more scraped knees.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~


You were about 15 months old when I picked you up for a ride to the zoo. I put you in the car seat and strapped you into place. Then behind the steering wheel and we were off.
After a minute, you said, "Bess you. Bess you." I paid no attention. Then louder, "Bess you. Bess you." I looked at you. "What was 'Bess you'?" Then you practically yelled, "BESS you! BESS you!"
All of a sudden, I understood. I had sneezed and you were saying, "Bless you! Bless you!"
I laughed and thanked you. You were happy.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

You went with me to pick up some pictures of your Dad. You were five years old. As we sat in the car, you turned to me and said, "Grandpa, how much do you love me?"
I pointed to the inside of the car. "I love you enough to fill this car."
You said, "I love you as much as all these cars." There were two on each side.
I pointed to a telephone pole and then another. "I love you as much as between those two telephone poles."
You answered, "I love you as much as big as Houston."
I thought a moment. "I love you as big as the whole United States."
You said, "I love you as much as the whole world."
Then I had you. "I love you as much as all the planets and stars in the universe."
You were stumped. You thought for a moment, then brightened. Sitting straight up in your end of the car seat, you struggled for words, then said, "Grandpa, I love you so much I could scream!"

~*~   ~*~   ~*~


When you were living in Houston, your dad would pick you up on Wednesday afternoons to take you to have dinner with him and Ab on Mischire Drive. Gram and I would visit you after we ate supper. When I knocked on your door, in a moment I could hear you call out to your dad, "Hurry up! Open the door! It's Grandpa!"

~*~   ~*~   ~*~
When you were about 18 months old I bought you a stuffed bear. It was huge, twice as big as you. You loved it.
Once when I came over on a Sunday morning to take you the zoo, you ran to the door to greet me. You were sucking on the nipple of a bottle of milk. You were so happy to see me that you ran around looking for something to give me. You spied the bear and ran to drag it to me. But you needed both hands, so what were you going to do with the bottle? In a jiffy you decided what to do: You put the nipple in your mouth, leaving the bottle hanging down. Now both hands were free to drag the bear over to me!

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

You were playing on our front lawn. With a plastic bat, you were hitting a ball over the grass, missing more than hitting. Grandma was watching you and reminded you, "Don't go off the sidewalk."
You continued swinging and mostly missing, saying, "Don't worry, Grandma, I'll stay on the walkside."

~*~   ~*~   ~*~
The first time I held you in m arms was when you were one day old. You weren't very much, and all I could see was your round face; the rest of you was covered with blankets and a diaper. I'm not sure, but I think there was a little cap on your head. You slept soundly. I rubbed my cheek on yours. It was so soft I almost couldn't feel it.
The next time I saw you was when we visited you, your mom, and your Grandma Arlene in the apartment on Bissonet. You were about a week old, still asleep, quiet. You woke up to nurse. I'm sure I held you thought I don't remember.
Soon you moved to a house on Havana and I began to become closer to you. I woke you from your sleep on Saturday mornings. I'd put a clean diaper on you, dress you while you emptied a bottle, then hold you while your mom gave you your vitamins. Then into the car seat of my car and we were off to the zoo.
At the zoo, I'd put you in a stroller and we'd walk around. Of course, you fell asleep almost right away, but I had such a good time watching you while we walked past the bird cages, animal enclosures, and waterfalls. I know you didn't know where you were or what was going on but I told myself you were getting used to the smells and noises and cries of the zoo and would find them a comfortable place in your life.
If you'd wake up it would be because you were wet, so I'd take off the wet diaper, powder you and put on a clean, dry one. And if you were hungry, I'd put a bottle of milk in your mouth. You were happy. So was I.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

Where did you get your fascination with wheels? Or anything mechanical with wheels?
At your first birthday you got lots of presents, but the only thing you played with was a Tonka truck. You got down on your hands and knees with your head on the floor, your eyes on the wheels as you pushed the truck back and forth, back and forth.
And one evening, after you finished supper, I picked you up out of your high chair and carried you around the block so the rest of the family could finish eating.
As we turned a corner, we came upon a large tractor parked at the curb for the night. As soon as you saw the huge machine you wiggled out of my arms and ran over to the big wheel. There you sat in the well of the wheel so happy. It was as though you had always wanted to do that.
Then you climbed up to the driver's seat and pretended to guide the monster down the street. You were in Heaven.
And then there's the time we went to the fat stock show. You weren't interested in cattle, hogs, rabbits, chickens, or turkeys. But machinery - you took off for the farm equipment and climbed around where you could. Wheels and metal - that was what you played with.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

Soon after you learned to walk, I began taking you to the Galleria. On hot days you wore nothing but a diaper. No shoes.
You were fascinated by the ice skaters, so I took you down to the ice. You stepped off the Astroturf onto the ice in your bare feet. You stood there for a few moments, then turned and stepped back on the turf. I knew your feet had become cold and so you wanted off the ice. I noticed that you made no sounds, didn't move your feet that had become uncomfortably cold, didn't make a face. You just move to a warmer spot.
The next few times you walked into that cold white stuff, you did the same thing.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

About the time of your 6th birthday, I visited you in Pittsburgh. Your mom warned me you were going through a bad mood. I picked you up to take you to the hotel and you were dressed in a black t-shirt, dirty jeans, and scruffy shoes. You weren't happy at supper but loosened up in the swimming pool.
After breakfast the next morning, I suggested we go do the science museum. You didn't want to but when I promised you could buy something at the gift shop, you said okay. We took the bus, but it was the wrong one so we got off, crossed the street and took another bus going the other way.
At the museum you headed for the gift shop. You selected what you wanted and I promised to buy it for you after the visit.
I suggested we visit the submarine anchored in the river nearby. Your black mood came up and you said you didn't want to because you had been there before; so I bought tickets and coaxed you on board. Wow, you had such a good time and were so excited to be on a sub. Then we bought you the junior chemistry set and headed back to the hotel.
Back in our room I laid down to rest and you played with the chemicals while we waited for your mom. I dozed off and after a while the phone rang. Your mom was on her way. We went downstairs and soon your mom came. I kissed you goodbye and went back to the room.
I went to the bathroom and found that you had a BM but didn't want to flush the toilet because you didn't want to disturb me as I napped. So thoughtful!

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

On one of our weekend walks at Galleria you were dressed only in a diaper, about 15 months old and quite curious. It was Christmas time with lots of decorations on the first level which we could see as you and I walked on Level 2.
There was a large, leafy tree in a planter on Level 1 and it and its branches extended up as high as the railing on Level 2. You were walking in front of me and before I could move, you were squeezing yourself through the bars of the railing to touch or grab the leaves. I swear my heart stopped. I sped up my leisurely pace and grabbed you. My heart started up again.
At the time I write this (you are nearly 16 years old), I can still feel the fright in my soul.
~*~   ~*~   ~*~

Again, we're at the Galleria. You're in your diaper. It's Sunday morning; stores are closed. At the store A to Z, you are fascinated by the merchandise inside. The sliding doors are separated by about four inches and you see that if you squeeze between them you'll see the store. As I ran to catch you by an arm and pull you back into the corridor, I flashed what a time I would have had if you had slipped into the store and I would have had to convince you to present an arm at the door's opening so I could get you back.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

I'm on the witness stand. I don't remember the date; all I can surmise is it's the time of cold weather in Houston because I'm wearing my dark blue cashmere jacket and I only wear that in cold weather.
The trial is about whether your mom or your dad will have custody of you or whether there will be joint custody or whatever the court will decide. There had already been lots of discussion with lawyers, but, as expected, no decision was made and the whole can of worms ended in a trial. That's why I was in the witness's chair.
I am not worried or anxious. They will want some information from me and I will tell the truth and so I'm relaxed and comfortable. I smile at the jury and some of them smile back. The rest sit stone-faced; they don't want to appear too friendly.
I'm sworn in. I promise to tell the truth.
Your mom's attorney questions me first. He asks a lot of questions about your dad's income. I know about that 'cause I'm president of Associates in Medicine who pays your dad. He asks for some estimates about your dad's future income, but I hedge on that as I can only judge by past performances and with your dad, information was limited.
Next, the questions are about time I spend with you. I have no idea where we are going but I answer that I see you Saturday early till about 1 p.m. and the same on Sunday; how I pick you up at home, dress you, drove you to the zoo and push you around in the stroller. Same on Sunday. Every Wednesday evening when your dad and Ab have you for dinner, I come with Gram, feed you and when you finish, I take you outside to examine cars, trees, and bugs.
Then your mom's lawyer asks if I think your mom is a "good" mother. I protest that I am not a judge of such things but the lawyer persists, "Not as a judge, but as a person, do you think Miss Manko is a good mother?"
I reply, "Yes, she is a good mother." Maybe the question was whether she would be a good mother in the future, but my answer would have been the same.
Then your dad's lawyer questions me. A very few questions, then, "Do you think Dr. Jackson will be a good parent?"
I sit up straight in my seat and answer in a strong voice, "Yes, he will be a splendid parent."
Your lawyer (yes, you had one) asks me a few questions and then the other lawyers ask a few more questions, particularly about my feelings for you. Suddenly, I burst out crying; I bury my face in my hands. I regain my composure, finish my testimony, and am excused.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~
Your favorite place to play was at the playground at Hermann Park. There was a merry-go-round, the kind you could turn yourself, a slide, swings, and other muscle-stretching structures. The time I'm thinking about, you were playing all by yourself and enjoying yourself immensely.
When I announced it was time to go home, you decided to play "catch me." It took a while but I did it. You playfully squirmed in my arms as I carried you toward the car. As we passed the lake, I said, "I'm gonna throw you in the lake."
That sounded just right for you and you started yelling, "Throw me in the lake! Throw me in the lake!" I held tight and managed to get you to the car and buckled into the seat belt. You still wanted me to throw you into the lake.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~

About a year after you and your mom moved to Pittsburgh, she called to tell me that she was coming back to visit friends in Lake Jackson. She was bringing you and gave me information about the visit so I could spend time with you. We talked about where she would be and she promised to phone me when she arrived.
She called me at the office and left her number at Lake Jackson where I could reach her. When I was free I called but there was no answer. I didn't know what had happened but decided to go to the address in Lake Jackson she had given me.
At Lake Jackson I found the house whose address your mom had given me. I knocked on the door and a young girl opened it. She said your mom and her mom had gone shopping. I asked, "Is Bryan here?" She said you were and invited me in.
I went into a large living room where you and three small children were standing together. My heart pounded - it was the first time in nearly a year since I had seen you.
I called your name. You looked at me but said nothing. The anxious expression on your face did not change but your hands nervously twisted each other. Again, I said, "Hello, Bryan." No response, just a worried look and the twisting hands.
Then I said, "Bryan, do you want to come hug me?" That did it. You ran across the room, jumped onto my lap. We hugged each other and I kissed you several times.
Why had you acted so anxiously? Why had you not run to me when I first entered the room? Were you afraid of me? Did you believe I had come to hurt you, to take you away when your mom was out shopping? Were you afraid that I was angry with you because you had left me and moved to Pittsburgh?
Do you have an answer?