I never did get to meet my Mom's Father, my Grandpa Joseph Milko. He was born in Pennsylvania, had three brothers and a sister. Joe's brother Mike was a championship boxer in Pittsburgh.
Joseph was a World War I Veteran. He worked in the auto industry in Detroit from the 1930's to the 1950's as a crane operator, sometimes working high up in the factory where the worst smoke and toxins gathered. It was before regulations and health and safety codes were in place. My Grandfather died at the young age of 54 and I was born about ten years afterward. My mom told me a story about him and I adapted it into the short story below - in remembrance of Joseph Milko.
Joseph was a World War I Veteran. He worked in the auto industry in Detroit from the 1930's to the 1950's as a crane operator, sometimes working high up in the factory where the worst smoke and toxins gathered. It was before regulations and health and safety codes were in place. My Grandfather died at the young age of 54 and I was born about ten years afterward. My mom told me a story about him and I adapted it into the short story below - in remembrance of Joseph Milko.
The Silver Moth
©2000 By Janine Cooper Ayres
“Daddy,” little Irene asked. “If you could be any kind of creature in the world, what would you be?”
Her father stared out into the backyard from the porch and thought for a long moment before replying, “A large moth.”
“A large moth?” she laughed. “Not a hawk or a lion – or a black stallion?”
“Nope. Just a moth – a large silver iridescent moth with a few polka dots and a white fuzzy face.”
“Gee,” said his little girl. “Why?”
“Well, Irene,” her father had thought long enough. “Moths are a peaceful bunch. They do not hunt and swoop down upon small innocent creatures. They do not attack viciously like the lion. They are not captured and broken in spirit like the stallion. No, the moth is a gentle creature. It is true that its life is often in danger for this very reason. The moth does not hide in the shadows waiting to pounce on its next victim. It has not the vanity of a butterfly and so it is content with a spot or two on plain silver wings rather than loud bright colors that scream, ‘Look at me!’ But most important…”
Irene’s father looked at her straight in the eye. “Moths know the secret of metamorphosis!”
“Meta – what?” Irene asked, confused.
“Metamorphosis. It means to transform – transmute. Just like the butterfly, the moth begins its life as a caterpillar. A cat starts its life as a cat, and a dog, a dog, but the moth is unique because it grows wings and learns to fly! The moth is not afraid to leave the earth’s surface and explore the heavens – to go into the light.”
“Wow!” Irene exclaimed. “I never knew moths were so special!” She climbed up on her papa’s lap and watched the last of the suns’ rays melt into the night sky.
Several years later when Irene was a full grown woman, she was sitting at her kitchen table all alone. The hour was late and she was very tired, yet she couldn’t sleep. The day had been full of mourning, as she and her mother and four brothers all gathered to lay her father’s body to rest. He died at the early age of fifty-four after a long hard life, working many of them in the auto industry in Detroit, Michigan.
“Why did he have to leave this world so soon?” Irene thought to herself with tears streaming down her face. “He was a good man. He was gentle. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. He had courage, yet he was humble…”
At that moment, Irene was interrupted by a loud commotion at the window. At first she jumped with fear that it might be an intruder, but as she opened the curtain, she saw that it was a large silver moth flapping its iridescent wings as though trying to get her attention.
“Oh, what a beautiful creature.” Irene whispered out loud and watched as the moth found its way into her kitchen through a small tear in the screen. He rested for a moment on the chair directly in front of her. He had a big white fuzzy face and few polka dots…
Just then a chill came over Irene as a long forgotten memory floated back from her childhood. She remembered what her father had told her.
As the moth flew above her and around the kitchen light, Irene felt it was sign from her father that he had grown his wings and was ready for his metamorphosis – his journey away from the earth’s surface and into the light.
Irene smiled a peaceful smile, took a final sip of tea and went to bed.
As the moth flew above her and around the kitchen light, Irene felt it was sign from her father that he had grown his wings and was ready for his metamorphosis – his journey away from the earth’s surface and into the light.
Irene smiled a peaceful smile, took a final sip of tea and went to bed.
To learn more about Joseph's brother Mike Milko visit: http://www.harrygreb.com/mikemilko.html
