Good to Me

Oh, DeRay is good to me.

And so I thank DeRay

for giving me the things I need:

The sun and the rain and the apple seed;

Oh, wait!

That’s Johnny Appleseed, thanking the Lord.

And so I thank DeRay

for giving me:

a good life;

Fixing things;

Shopping;

Vacations.

Offering to go downstairs for me a glass of water.

(That’s the one that got me.

Stairs are not easy when you’re 80.

We minimize stairs climbing all possible.)

Doing the business side of life

that I detest.

Insurance.

Bills.

Finances.

It doesn’t matter so much that he hasn’t been able to learn

how to hang up his coat

Even though I’ve stepped him through it many times:

                                            1.  Open closet door.

                                            2.  Grab a hanger

                                            3.  Hang coat on rod.

                                            4.  Close closet door.

Or that he leaves his clod-hoppers and his numerous grabbers scattered around;
or can't keep his dresser cleaned off.

He gathers well water;

Plans and plants a garden

with a complex sprinkling system;

Helps with the canning;

Talks to salesmen;

Makes me laugh out loud every day;

Handles problems;

Has a keen and analytical mind;

Pays the bills;

Sure he watches too much TV;
drinks too much caffeine;

he solves all my computer problems

and downloads my pictures.

And so I thank the Lord

for giving me

DeRay.