Be Still

I have started this blog simply to note things I remember
growing up. They will not be in chronological order – but as they come to me.

 

“Be still.” I remember my dad, Robert Joseph Thayer, Sr. say
that many times, but one stands out. When I was small, we lived at English
Orchards.  Down the road were “Aunt Lou”
and “Uncle” Bud Hayes. Dad and I walked down there for some reason and while he
and Uncle Bud talked, I went to pet their German Shepherd. She had always been
good around us kids. That day was different. I reached down to pet her where
she lay on the grass and she lunged upwards, sunk her teeth into my lower lip
and pulled. There was speculation later that because she had a sore hip or because
she knew they were going away without her – for whatever reason – it was over
in a flash.

Dad had me hold a towel to my face (Aunt Lou brought it out)
and we walked home. He called to mom, she grabbed more towels off the
clothesline to soak up more blood and dad drove us to Dr. Gregg’s house. He had
a porcelain-top table in the kitchen and that’s where they laid me.

I can still see in my mind that curved needle coming
downwards to my face. I wanted out of there right then! Dad just put his hand
on my shoulder and said, “Be still.” And I was.

Somehow that country Dr. knew where to put those stitches,
even with all the swelling, so that there was only one scar on the outside.

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