Monthly Archives: April 2020

AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT

“Tomorrow is Christina’s eighteenth birthday. Are you aware of that Ms. Cummings? Have you found a half-way house or a group home for her yet? You’ve run out of time, and so has Christina. As you know, the state doesn’t support kids in the foster system after the age of eighteen.”

Toot and Tell Restaurant- Garner, NC Google Image

“I’m well aware of that, Miss Bartram. And I have spent the last four months looking for placement for Christina with no luck. You know her history of non-compliance. She’s missed half of her classes this year. She may not graduate. She had a pregnancy scare, and she was out after curfew twice in the last month. No one is exactly knocking down the door, begging to take Christina.”

A cell phone starts ringing, just before the phone takes the message Miss Bartram says, “Answer it, answer it. I have spoken to the supervisors in every group home in this county.”

“Hello, yes this is Emily Cummings. Can I help you? Excuse me, whose mother did you say you are? What that isn’t possible, her mother passed away years ago. And she doesn’t have any other family. You can prove it. How? Do you have her birth certificate? Will you take a maternity test? Alright, can I call you back at this number, I’m in my boss’ office right now. And I’ll have to inform her about this turn of events. Yes, I will call you back within the hour. You have my number. My name is Emily Cummings I have handled Christina’s case for the past ten years. I assure you I ‘ll call back within the hour. Goodbye.”

“You will not believe who I just spoke to just now.”

“Ok, I give. who called you?”

“Get this, Christina’s mother called.”

“Christina Mc Gregor’s mother called? How is that possible? Our records indicate that her mother died of a drug overdose. Christina has been in the state foster care system for ten years, no family. Nothing. Where has her so-called mother been all these years? While this poor girl has been bounced around from one foster care home to another like a tennis ball?”

“She didn’t want to say on the phone. She asks to meet in person. And she says she’ll explain everything then. She wants to see Christina. I think we have to interview this woman first without Christina present, check out her story. I’m sure she’s some kind of con artist or freak. Maybe, I’m just jaded.  I don’t know. But, after twenty-five years of working in social services, it has been my experience that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is too good to be true. And then there’s the freak or predator angle. Sometimes I can’t help but think not if they’re a freak, but what kind of freak they are?

“I don’t want to give Christina false hope. She’s been hurt, rejected, and neglected too many times. If this is some kind of scam, I can’t even imagine the long-lasting harm this would do to Christina.”

“You’re right, Ms. Cummings. We will have to take baby steps here. Check out this “mother” to see if she is legit. And even if it turns out, she is Christina’s mother, that doesn’t mean she isn’t up to no good. Give her a call back tell her we want to meet her tomorrow morning at County General at 8 am for a blood test, she needs to bring any ID plus birth certificate for Christina and any other proof she may have.

And then after we take a look at the blood test results and paperwork, we’ll have a sit down just the three of us and see if we can sus out any funny business she may be up to. After that, we’ll have our shrink have a go at her to see if he can detect if she is copesetic or so kind of nut job. And even if she can prove she is Christina is her biological child, that doesn’t mean she isn’t up to no good. We will have to wait and see. And then and only then will we consider letting Christina meet up with this late in the day, mother.”

Early the next morning, Sarah calls her boss to update her. “Hello, Ms. Bartram, Sarah Cummings here. I just wanted to update you with the latest news on Christina Billings’s case after calling her “mother’s” cell phone number four times and I finally got a return call from the “mother.” She wouldn’t give me any specifics about her current location. Nor, would she tell me where she has been for the past ten years. And why she hasn’t contacted Christina. However, she did agree to meet me but not here at my office. She wants to meet me at the Toot and Tell Restaurant in Gardner for lunch tomorrow at 11:00 am. She said she will have the blood test today. “

“She didn’t give you any information at all? This whole situation is really hard to swallow. Where could she have been that she couldn’t have kept contact with Christina in some way? Did you ask her to bring ID and the birth certificate? Did she mention any other relatives? Did she ask about Christina at all?”

“She did ask about Christina, she asked how she was and where she is living. She wants to see her as soon as we can arrange it. She told me that she would explain the situation to me, when we meet. She said she has proof that she is Christina’s mother.”

At ll:00 am on the dot, a tall, red-headed woman wearing tight blue jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt walks through the doors of the Toot and Tell Restaurant. She walks up to the blond , middle-aged woman at the cash register and asked, “did anyone ask you to let them know when a woman came asking for her?”

“Yes, she’s sitting in the second booth on the left as you go through that door right there straight down through this dining area in front of you. She’s wearing a blue suit and has short, brown hair.”

“Thanks.”

“Hello, are you Ms. Bartram?”
“Yes, sit down, here I ordered you some coffee. Can you tell me your name now before we proceed any further? What’s with all the secrecy? Did you bring the proof I asked you to bring? Otherwise, this meeting is over before it begins.”

“Yes, I brought the proof. I’m sorry for all the secrecy, I guess its habit since I have been in hiding for the last ten years. It’s a hard habit to break. My name is Melissa Hartman. That is my real name, But I have been using a fake name for the past ten years. I called myself  Jean Hall.

“I think you’ll have to tell me more about the reason you were in hiding. But first, can you give me Christina’s birth certificate?”

“Here it is. However, you’ll see it’s in a different name. I changed her name to protect her. But I have her finger prints and her baby footprints. I don’t know if the foot prints will, help but I thought I should bring them all the same. Here’s the papers from the hospital, where I gave birth to Christina. Well,l actually at birth, I named her Shannon after my mother, who passed away two years before she was born.”

“Alright, can you please explain why you dumped Christina. I mean Shannon when she was not quite ten years old? And where have you been for the past ten years? Why didn’t you keep in touch with her? Do you know how devastating it is for a child to grow up thinking their own parents didn’t want them and dumped them like garbage on the side of the road?”

“Well, I’ll give you the short version, and then you can ask me any questions you want to after that. I got pregnant in my junior year of highschool. My mother and father were devout Baptists. They went ballistic when they found out I was pregnant. My parents wanted me to have the baby and give it up for adoption. They hated my boyfriend, Joey. They said he was a bad seed and would come to a bad end. They really despised him. And that just made me want him more. My parents were extremely strict. I wanted to have an abortion. But they would not allow that since they’re Baptist like I said before.”

“I ran away with my boyfriend. He was a senior in highschool. We drove to Mississippi and got married. You can get married at sixteen without parental consent there. Joey got a job at a gas station. We rented a room in an old house that someone he knew owned. I still wanted to get an abortion, but Joey said, no way I was going to kill his baby. He hit me and kept hitting me until I agree not to get an abortion. Joey was a big guy. He was a lineman in our highschool football team. He was big, really big. And when he hit me that time, he blackened both my eyes and knocked out my front tooth. I didn’t argue with him after that.”
But after that first time, he didn’t seem to need an excuse to hit me. If he came home in a bad mood, he hit me. If he didn’t like what I cooked for dinner, he hit me. Of course, that was practically every night since I had no clue how to cook. If I didn’t want him to touch me because he hurt me all the time, he really went nuts on me, and one night he broke my arm. And I had to go to the hospital to have it set. They ask me what happened. But I was afraid to tell them because I’m sure he would kill me if I did. They must have known he hit me since I was black and blue all over, and my front tooth was knocked out. They ask me if I felt safe. Joey warned me not to tell anyone, or he would make me sorry. And I believed him.
I told the nurse I was ok. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “squeeze my hand back, and I promised you I will keep you safe.”

I said, “no, I’m alright, thank you. She looked at me again and shook her head. She tucked a card in my shirt pocket. And she said, “if you change your mind, you can call the number on there. And they’ll find a safe house for you to stay. How far along are you in your pregnancy? I looked at her, and a tear ran down my face. “Four months, I didn’t think it showed yet?”

“I have been working in the ER for twenty-five years. I can tell if someone is getting beat up. I recognize pregnant when I see it, please call that number, you don’t have to live like this.”

“Thank you for your concern, I’m alright.”

“Ok, you can go now, but I hope you will call that number. I hope I don’t see you again in here. Can’t you go home to your family?”

“No, my family doesn’t want me, because I got married. ”

“All the more reason to call them now. Do you have any money?”

“Yeah, I have some money, maybe I’ll call them. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Don’t wait too long miss, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your baby.”

“So, what happened did you call your parents?”

“Yeah, I called my parents the next day, after Joey went to work.” “What happened was my father told me it was my choice and he didn’t want any more to do with me. I asked if I could speak to my mother. And then she got on, and she said,” I’m sorry but your dad made up his mind. You know how he is once he’s made up his mind. Try calling back in a couple of weeks. Take care.”

“I called them back every couple of months, but no one ever answered the phone. I left a message and my phone number. But they never called me back. Joey promised me he wouldn’t hit me anymore. But he did, but he never hit me in the stomach. And then I had the baby. And between the baby crying and not enough money, Joey was always in a bad mood.
He didn’t hit the baby, but when she made too much noise, he hit me plenty. But he never let me go to the ER again. Since he didn’t want to get arrested. About the time that Shannon started first grade, Joey started losing his temper around her more. She was always afraid, and she would hide in her room. Joey started drinking. I was afraid all the time then.

I decided to take Shannon and run away. Joey always found us. The last time I packed up all of our stuff and took off. Joey found us in a hotel in Tucson. He beat both of us up at that time. And that’s when I decided to put Shannon to foster care. Not because I didn’t love her. But because I wanted her to be safe and have some chance of a normal life. So, I got a fake birth certificate for her with a different name on it. I never looked back. I didn’t want Joey to find Shannon. I’ve been running ever since then.

I changed my name every time I moved. I worked at any job I could find. About two months ago, I tried calling my parents. My mother answered the phone. She told me that my father had a heart attack and passed away two years before.  And that two months ago the police came knocking at her door looking for me. She told them she hadn’t heard from me in years since I was sixteen. They were looking for me because Joey got himself murdered in a bar fight, and they wanted to inform the next of kin.

“So here I am. I want to see my daughter again. I got a job, and an apartment not too far from here. I love her and I want her. Can I see her now?”

“First, we’re going to the hospital to get blood test, and I want to see any proof you have regarding the name change of both you and Christina, I mean Shannon. I need to see the birth certificate.”

“Here it all is in this manilla envelope. I had the blood test done already. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Let me take a look at the documents. It will take two or three days to get the blood tests results.”

Two days later Ms. Cummings calls Shannon’s mother with the results. “hello Melissa, I have good news. Your blood tested positive in the maternity test. I had to explain to Shannon why we were taking the blood tests. She didn’t believe me at first. But then she started talking about the physical abuse at the hands of her father. And all the spousal abuse she witnessed in her early years. She still feels like you abandoned her, so that is going to take some time for you two to work out.”

The next day Ms. Cummings arrives in front of the Toot and Tell Restaurant with Shannon in tow. As they walk through the front door and then the inner door, Shannon stares at the woman sitting in the first booth on the left. “Is that my mother right there?”

“Yes, that’s her. So, you do recognize her?”

Shannon swallows hard as tears stream down her face; Then she stares at the teenager who stands in front of her. “Shannon, I can’t believe you are standing here in front of me. Can I get a hug?”
“Mom, Mom. they told me you were dead.” Shannon runs up to her mother and throws her arms around her. “oh Mommy, I missed you so much. I didn’t think I would ever see you again. Can I come live with you? Please?”
“Oh, that has been my dream for the past ten years. Sit down and tell me everything.”

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CORONA VIRUS- APRIL 25, 2020

 

Another week has passed. Each day seems to be moving at a snail’s pace at the same time it feels like the weeks are flying by in the blink of an eye. I’m a person that enjoys living a productive life. I set daily goals for myself. I’m my own taskmaster. If I’m tired, I push myself to accomplish my goals anyway.

Jalapeno, Eclectus Parrot- Photo by Bob Culver

Unfortunately, I have a tendency to hold my family to the same standards. “What did you do today? What else? You mean you just looked at the internet all morning? I guess you could say I’m a bit of a nag.

I have a high energy level; sometimes I forget everyone isn’t like me. They don’t necessarily feel an internal pressure to be busy every moment of the day. Even before I retired and I was working full-time, I did volunteer work on my days off. I taught English As A Second Language, and Basic Skills Classes and helped people get their GED. I was a mentor for Big Brother/Big Sister. I have always wanted my life to have value and make a contribution to our society and help other people do the same.

For the past three and a half years, I have been volunteering three mornings a week at an Animal Sanctuary in Coats, NC. I take care of parrots, Macaws, and Cockatoos. I love animals. And I loved these birds. But I have to admit it is exhausting work, especially for someone my age.

Sparky- Photo by Bob Culver

As I was driving home yesterday from Animal Edventure, I realized that one of the things that I enjoyed the most now is the drive back and forth from my house to Animal Edventure. It is only a fifteen- or twenty-minute ride. But it allows me to be alone with my thoughts and reflect on what has been happening in my home. And what has or may occur while I’m at Animal Edventure.

I live in a small development, and I drive through farmlands to the Animal Sanctuary. I had the opportunity to observe the long winter pass and Spring arrive one day at a time. The crops are beginning to grow, wildflowers are springing up, giving me hope.

There are fewer cars on the road. It’s a quiet ride that offers me the opportunity to see the cows and chickens and the horses and beautiful steer with their magnificent horns.  And I see the crops growing a bit taller every day. It lifts my spirit. That somehow, our life will move forward to better days. It fills me with gratitude for all our planet has to offer.

I arrive at  7:15 at the Animal Sanctuary, and I’m usually the first one up and about. The eight dogs that live there greet me with their doggy smiles as I walk down the path from the front gate, and I hug and pet each one. Sometimes I offer them each a dog biscuit too. Dogs are such wonderful creatures we are lucky to have them in our lives.

I get ready to head out to the bird building by filling the water jugs and getting any supplies I may need for them and put it all in a little wagon to bring out to their building. Before I go there, I give each of the Foxes a treat. I can see they are eagerly awaiting it. They show their excitement with a high-pitched whining and wide, toothy grins.

As I’m about to go into the bird building, Tuni, the blind pig greets me, and I pet her from her bristly head to her little tail. She grunts at me and waits patiently for her small snack. She is such a sweet soul.
I look forward to seeing her.

Sometimes, Matilda, the Emu is waiting for me, she isn’t                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        patient and always seems to think I’m late. If she is in a particularly bad mood, I have to step aside quickly, or she will peck me with her sharp beak. She has quick reflexes and keeps me on my toes.

As I enter the building with two of the outside cats, Camo and Orange Julius Paco scream out, “helloooo.” I call out, “Hello, birds, how are you all doing today?”

I take out the cat food and put it on the floor for my little cat friends. And as they start eating, I pet Camo but not Orange Julius she doesn’t like more than a pat on the head. I go over to each of the birds and ask them how they are? They each answer in their fashion. Sometimes they say hello, sometimes they scream. It’s noisy in the bird building; it takes getting used to. I have been working there for three and a half years. And I have learned to block out most of the noise. Jalapeno is a bright green Electus. He jumps on my shoulder. Sometimes he likes to ride in the hood of my jacket. He always wants to be fed first before all the other birds. If I don’t feed him first, he will go over and start eating the cat food. He isn’t one bit afraid of the cats. And the cats run out of the building when they see Jalapeno coming towards them.

I spend about three and a half hours in the bird building. I feed all the birds and clean their water and food dishes. I clean their cages inside and out and rake the floor. I have come to love these beautiful creatures—each different from the next in their personality and their moods. I talk to each one and ask them how they’re doing. I feel lucky to have the opportunity to know them.

Sometimes the kangaroos come by and try to break in, but I shoosh them away. And occasionally Jack the Blood Hound stops by, and bangs on the door, and I hand him a dog biscuit. He often lies down outside the door in the morning sun and takes a nap.

It’s a busy morning in the bird building but the time goes by quickly. Before I leave, I say good-bye to my feathered friends. And tell them I’ll see them in a couple of days.

I return the wagon to its parking place and head toward the exit. I say good-bye to all the animals, as I pass them. Adelaide the Kookaburra is one of my favorites; she always sings out for me as I pass her by and, I say, “hello, Adelaide, I see you’ve woke up.”

When I arrive home my husband and daughter ask me,” Ok, what happened today? And I relate stories about each one of my animal friends and what they were up to.

Then I go outside and eat lunch on our screened-in porch and look at our garden and the little pond that we put in the first year we moved to North Carolina from New Jersey. That was almost four years ago.                                      The irises and peonies that I brought with me from NJ look so beautiful this year. And our little Koi fish are getting so big. My dog, Douglas, greets me as if I’ve been away for ten years instead of four hours. I love that little dog so much.

So yes, this is a tough time, a sad time in so many ways. But mother nature has done such wonders this Spring and it gives me hope that someday life will return to a version of what it used to be. I hope we learn whatever lesson we are supposed to learn from this experience. I know one thing is to appreciate your life and the lives of your loved ones. It is precious and fragile and can be lost so easily. I try not to take it for granted. And that our planet is irreplaceable as well we must protect it as if our life depends on it. Because it does.

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Tea Break

The bed creaks as Sarah wrestles with her sweaty sheets. She closes her eyes tightly against the early morning light. She knows what time it is because she wakes up at seven-thirty every single day. Even the sleeping pills on her bedside table don’t allow her one more moment of rest.

Strottles the cat Photo by Bob Culver

She gives in, opening one eye at a time, and looks out her bedroom window. It’s a sunny, unbearably bright day. Sarah slides her bony feet into her worn purple slippers. Slowly, reluctantly she makes her way into the blue-tiled bathroom with the matching blue toilet and sink. Turns on the hot water and lets it run into the sink until steam rises to the mirror and obscures her face. She plunges her hands into the fray of water and splashes it on her face. Grabs a towel and roughly dries her face.

Sarah returns to her bedroom and pulls on a pair of elasticized pants, shrugs on an old white tea shirt with a faded American flag on the front, and pushes her feet into her ancient yellow leather Keds.

Holding tightly to the railing as she descends the staircase. Sarah fears falling more than anything. She lives alone, save for her cat, that occasionally shares her bed. Strottles went out several nights ago and hasn’t returned yet. He has an active love life, a happy bachelor.

Sarah wouldn’t admit to anyone how jealous she was of her cat.  That is, if she had anyone, she felt she could confide her deepest feelings. Although she often whispers them into her feline Lothario’s velvety ear. He at least has never betrayed her lonesome soul.

A week ago, Sarah ate a breakfast of burnt toast and Earl Grey tea. She heard Strottles meowing outside the kitchen door. Strottles stood at the bottom of the steps with five multi-colored kittens. Sarah blinked several times, stepped back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her.  She sits down, and a tear runs down her face into her teacup, adding a salty taste to her morning repast.

This morning Sarah once again hears meowing at the back door. She looks out the window on the door and sees a black and white kitten staring back at her. At that moment, Sarah realizes that although humans had often failed to be faithful friends and left her behind when she needed them the most, cats had not.

Sarah opens the door. She sees not one cat but five, and behind them, Strottles. “Well, come in, come in. The heat is going out the door.”

“Well, Strottles, you have been a busy boy. Now here you are with a family. Where’s the Mama?”

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Oh, can’t take a joke? Well, it doesn’t matter. Let me get you and your feline family something to eat. I think I have some canned food for the babies. And some dry food for you. And perhaps some milk as well.”

Sarah opens the pantry door and gazes inside its dark interior. And she pulls the string that turns on the light. It reveals a pantry that needs restocking. Luckily, she always has cat food since Strottles has a healthy appetite. She takes down two cans, Chicken Delight and Pate’ Turkey and Giblets. One of Strottle’s favorites.

She sets out five saucers and Strottles bowl and places a little wet food, and mixes the dry food in it. Strottles is an old cat, almost twelve, and is missing most of his teeth. But he still manages to devour both the wet and the dry food. He mustn’t have had much to eat since he left save for the occasional mouse.

“Here you go, lad and lassies, breakfast. And here is your bowl, Strottles, the proud papa. You’ve done yourself proud with this little family.”

“You know, Strottles, I should’ve gotten you fixed years ago, and I think I will do that now. But I will take care of your babies until I can find some families to adopt them. Eat up now. And I’m going to give each of these little kitties a bath with Dawn just in case they have any fleas and you too, Strottles. I know you hate baths, but you play. You pay as my dad used to say.”

After the kittens have eaten their fill, Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father, An orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah can see he is going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he has the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little.  He keeps rubbing up against her legs.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Alright, Strottles, let me get the sink ready for your bath and clean you up. You look like you were sleeping rough. From now on, you will be staying in the house with your little family.”

As the sink fills with warm, soapy water, Sarah considers names for her new charges. She considers naming them after the Virtues of Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Hope after she gets to know their personalities better.

She walks over to Strottles and picks him up. He protests by meowing as loudly as he can. Sarah ignores his crying and puts him gently in the sink. His meowing begins anew, but somehow, he is even louder.

Sarah says,” Settle down, it will be over before you know it, and then you can take a good long nap after your bath and toweling off. Sarah sprays Strottles and rubs Dawn over his body from his head to the tip of his striped tail. And then she rinses him off with warm water. Sarah rigorously towels Strottles off. As soon as she puts him down, he heads over to his cat bed in the living room and promptly falls asleep.

Sarah rinses off the sink and goes to the linen closet for some more towels for the kittens. Momentarily, she stops and thinks, what in the world am I going to do with six cats. She vows to herself not to get attached to the kittens.

It isn’t as easy bathing the kittens. Even though they are smaller, they’re so tiny they’re able to squirm and escape leaving trails of soapy water all along their escape path.

Sarah grabs the last kitten, who she decides to call Hope. She feels exhausted, and she’s dripping wet from head to toe. However, she can’t recall any time recently when she felt this happy and invigorated by anything she has undertaken.

Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father. He is an orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah sees he’s going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he had the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little.  He keeps rubbing up against her legs, and he has the loudest purring she had ever heard come out of such a small cat.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment.

Sarah decides she better makes a trip to the grocery store to do a little food shopping. She changes her clothes and puts on her good shoes and coat with her purse grasped tightly in her hand. She has a nagging fear that someone will steal her purse, and then where would she be?

It isn’t easy getting old. Sarah often feels as if she’s alone and out to sea in a boat. She suddenly realizes that now she’s smiling and feels her spirit-lifting because she has a purpose now and isn’t alone anymore. She feels better than she has in weeks.

Sarah steps out her front door and closes it with a bang, and locks the top and the bottom lock. You can never be too careful. The Mom and Pop grocery store is only a ten-minute walk, and Sarah quick steps it to the corner where she runs into Gloria. An old friend she hasn’t seen in months.

“Gloria, what a surprise to see you. I heard you moved in with your son after you had that heart attack scare. How are you? I’ve missed you so much. I don’t have your son’s address, so I couldn’t even send you a Get Well card.”

“I’m much better. I just came home two days ago. I was on my way to your house to see you. I should have written or called you. But for the first couple of months, I was in a nursing facility, and I was depressed. Then once I moved in with my son, they kept me busy every minute of the day. Where are you going? I’ll go with you. Maybe we could stop and have some tea at Tea Break. I have so missed their Ginseng Tea.”

“Why, that sounds like an excellent idea. I would love nothing better. I have some great news to tell you. You know, Strottles, my cat. He showed up this morning after being missing for quite a while, and he returned with a litter of kittens. And one is his spitting image. Anyway, this morning I bathed them all, and now I’m on the way to buy some supplies.”

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. What are you going to do with a litter of kittens? I would love to have one. It gets lonely living alone. On the other hand, living with my son and daughter-in-law and my four grandchildren was wonderful but exhausting.”

“Really, well, after lunch, you can come over and meet the kitties. And spend time with them until you decide which will be best for you.”

As Sarah and Gloria continue on their way to Tea Break, they see their mutual friend Connie waving at them from across the street. They wave back and cross the street. Simultaneously, they say, “Hi, Connie. How are you?”

“Well, I’m better now that I see you two. Gloria, I heard you were back. I’m so happy to see you looking so well. Where are you two off to?”

“Connie, we ran into each other as I was walking downtown to get some supplies for Strottles’ kitties. And then, we decided to go to Tea Break and tell each other what we have been up to.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Would three be a crowd? I would love to join you. I haven’t been out of my house in a month of Sundays.”

“Well, that would be great. ”

“Can you two give me a few minutes to run a comb through my hair and put a jacket on? I would love to catch up. I missed seeing you, Gloria. I heard you were staying with your son while you recovered.”

“Yes, but I’m much better now that I’m back home. I loved spending time with my grandchildren.  I’ll tell you all about it at Tea Break. We’ll wait out here while you grab a jacket.”

“Gloria, this is turning out to be a wonderful morning. First, Strottles shows up with his beautiful kittens. And now you’re home, and we meet up with Connie. And we’re all going out for a get-together. ”

“You’re right. I feel like a weight is off my chest. It will be such fun. I think we need to make this a regular thing for us to do together. ”

“You’re right. Sometimes there are days when I don’t see or speak to another soul.”

“I hate to admit it, but that’s true for me too.  And there is no reason on god’s earth for that to happen when we all live right down the street from one another, a short walk or phone call away.’

“And we can all thank Strottles for getting together because of his wanton ways. He is an old scoundrel, but I love him.  Oh, here comes Connie. Let’s go.”

“Look out, world, here we come. Hey, while we’re at it, why don’t we stop and see the matinee at the Roxy Theater and then have some dinner on me.”

“Sound like a plan. So Sarah, what have you been up to? Anything new?”

“I’ll say, but let’s walk up to Tea Break, and then I’ll tell you the whole story.”

Corona Virus April 18th, 2020

Last night was the first night that I fell asleep and slept for five hours in over a month. I’m feeling better, less irritable. I have always had trouble sleeping since I was a child. I would fall asleep and then wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep or wake up multiple times. It is not a new problem. What’s new now is that when I wake up the thoughts, I have been having are disturbing. I obsess about the suffering of people here and in the rest of the world. I feel such a sense of loss and helpless to make things better. I have always been a proactive person. If I see a problem, I try to find a way to mitigate it in some way.

Kite photo by Bob Culver

These last several weeks, I have donated small amounts of money to Food pantries, animal shelters in NC, and the poorest parts of the country. I don’t know if this will make any difference, but somehow, I can’t sit by and do nothing. I would find it difficult to live with my future self if I just here and felt sorry for people and didn’t do anything. We live on Social Security, but our house is paid off. So, I’m able to do that small thing.

This week the weather here in the area of NC was schizophrenic one day 87 degrees the next morning 36 degrees, one day heavy rains and high winds, the next day sunny and pleasant. The unpredictability for me adds to my sense that the weather now is abnormal as the Corona Virus. You just never know what is going to happen next.

We retired to NC three and a half years ago. It is a small development with twenty-one homes. The people that live here keep to themselves. One or two of our neighbors will wave and say “hello,” but it’s nothing like the neighborhoods we lived in the past where you knew your neighbor’s name and talked to them or even became friends with them over time. People here don’t spend a lot of time out in their yards, although their plots are about an acre. You see them cutting their grass on their riding mowers, but they don’t sit outside on their porches and talk to neighbors as you pass by. I still wave at them when I see them and call out,” Hello, how are you.” Occasionally, someone will wave back. There are probably about eight or cute little kids under ten years of age that will say. “hello” but won’t engage in any conversation. I have always loved kids, so I miss that.

Tiny blue shoes- photo by Bob Culver

Tiny Blue Shoes by Bob Culver

We have a neighbor at the end of the street right next to Route 50. Her twins, a boy, and a girl were about six months old when we moved here. They are beautiful little kids. Now, they are about four. In the summer, the parents allow their kids to ride their bikes, take walks, and play out front with no clothes on during the summer.  This isn’t something I ever saw in NJ so, I have asked quite a few people here in NC if this was just a Southern thing, and they all said no. I know it isn’t my business, but one evening I was sitting on my back porch, and I saw the father of the twins taking a walk with his two naked than three-year-old children. And before I knew it, I yelled, “Put clothes on those kids.” The father shouted back; they just won’t keep their clothes on and kept walking. When did children become the bosses?

Anyway, since this virus started, our neighbors began emerging from their development cocoons. Not every day and not all at once. But, every couple of days, I see someone running, or riding a bike, or jogging up and down our small development. I sit on the front porch and yell out,” Hello, how are you all doing?” And sometimes they wave or yell back. “We are fine, thanks.” Last Sunday, my husband and I were taking our first walk of the day up and down our street, and we saw a kite flying high above the tree line. It like it originated from the farm on the other side of our development. Somehow the sight of that beautiful kite lifted my spirits. It remained up there for over two hours. It brought back memories of my own children’s childhoods when we would take them to Cooper River Park in NJ and let them fly their small kites. And it reminded me of my childhood when I would fly my Dime store kite in the park behind the public school in Maple Shade, where I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s. Such happy memories. The site of that kite lifted my spirits and gave me hope that perhaps somehow, someday our lives would return to normal and life would go on.

Then three days ago, my husband Bob and I were taking our dog, Douglas, for a walk, and I noticed something blue on the ground on the corner of our front yard. I kneeled to take a closer look, and there before me was a tiny pair of blue shoes. Sitting one next to the other one upside down. It was such a whimsical thing to find, weird. So, I started imaging how they came to be there. “Oh, no,” I said some tiny little person; perhaps a well-dressed little alien has lost her shoes. I’m always thinking of stories I can write or paintings I can paint. It keeps me sane.

I look forward to the day when we get take a walk, go to a store, eat at our favorite restaurant once again without fear that we will touch something or someone, and it will be the end of us. However, I hope that my neighbors will remember that they came outside rode their bikes and took walks, and said,” Hey, how are you doing to their neighbors and didn’t turn to stone. I hope this small beginning will grow into a sense that we are a community, not just a place where we live. I will do my part and say. “hello, to everyone I see and ask them how they are doing. And perhaps someday in the not too distant future, I will invite all my neighbors over for a barbeque on a warm summer day, and we can’t get to know each other better and maybe, just maybe make some new friends.

__________________________________

ONCE UPON A TIME

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lives an old man who seems strange, even weird, in many ways. His neighbors avoid him, and if they happen to pass him on the street, they glance the other way.

There’s something about him that doesn’t seem quite right. His eyes are violet, but the whites of his eyes are yellow. His skin is tinted ever so slightly green, not unlike pea soup. What is left of his hair is stringy and hangs down to the middle of his scrawny back. He smells and looks as if it hasn’t washed in a decade or more.

Photo 99 mimimi-Pixabay

Car hits man in the street.

He’s bent over at his waist and has to turn his head from side to side to cross the street. His pants are big and baggy. He wears suspenders and a belt. The waist of his pants is hiked up under his armpits. His ankles are exposed, and you can see he is covered in a fine black, curly down. He wears sandals all year round, and his toenails are long and curl under his toes. They make a clicking sound as he shuffles down the street.

Traffic seems to slow down as passengers in their cars stare out their car windows at him. A driver in a convertible is so distracted that he nearly crashes into the Chevy truck ahead of him. When he doesn’t notice the traffic light turning red. The old man slowly turns his head in the direction of the screeching car and shakes his finger at the driver.

He continues to walk slowly forward. Ignoring the stares and the ugly names that are shouted at him. Life hasn’t given him an easy road to travel. But he perseveres.

He’s midway between the street and the sidewalk when he hears a car screeching and tires squealing. He tries to look up, but he reacts. He’s too slowly. And then he feels an enormous weight hit him and propels him into the air, and then nothing.

He feels as if he is floating. Someone is whispering to him. It seems as if it’s from a tremendous distance. He can’t quite make it out. He feels so weary. He thinks one last thought. Perhaps he’ll finally be able to lay down this burden that life has given him. He closes his eyes. And darkness, then silence follows.

From out of nowhere, he hears a voice, “Gerard Tippin, can you hear me? If you can hear me, nod your head or blink your eyes.”

Gerard slowly opens up his eyes and blinks. “Gerard, I’m going to shine a light in your eyes. It will be quite bright. Try to hold still.”

Gerard holds his head as steady as he’s able. A bright light shines in one eye and then the other.

“Can you see that, Gerard?”

Gerard tries to answer, but his throat feels dry and scratchy. He clears his throat.

“Gerard, you had a tube down your throat, and that’s why it hurts. I’m going to hand you a glass of water with a straw. Try to drink a little, and it will help.”

“Gerard, I’m Dr. Drachman. I’ve been taking care of you since you were admitted. You were hit by a car when you were trying to cross the street. We would like to keep you here for a couple of days. You have a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises. Overall, I think you were lucky you didn’t sustain any serious injuries.

However, in general, it appears as if you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself. Your skin tone is unusual, but we couldn’t find any obvious reason for it. The yellow in the whites of your eyes is concerning. We are running some tests on that. It looks like you have curvature of the spine or osteoporosis. We are going to get a physical therapist to assess you, which might help. Do you have any relatives or friends that we can contact? We feel your recovery will improve if you are able to stay with family or friends.”

Gerard clears his throat and states matter of factly, “family or friends, no. I don’t have nobody. I live alone in a room I rent in a boarding house. I get one meal a day there. I live on a small disability check. I’m not good at making friends.

“Well, I believe we can help you out. There are services that are available to people in need. Perhaps we can find better accommodations for you. Have you ever considered shared housing?”

“Shared housing? Well, like I said, I live in a boarding home. Of course, people don’t stay there too long. Some of the people that stay there just got out of jail. Some people are junkies. And then there are the down and outers like me. But most people think I‘m one of a kind. And keep a distance from me. I guess I’m kind of weird. At least that’s what I have been told most of my life. That I’m a weirdo.”

“Gerard, you are unique. That’s true. But we are all unique in one way or another. Let’s try to get you feeling better, eating better, and see about getting you in a better place. We’ll talk again soon. Some nice people are going to come and talk to you about helping you with your needs. This accident may turn out to be a happy accident, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what to say, doc. Thanks. Nobody ever tried to help me ever. I grew up in foster care. My parents didn’t want me. When I turned eighteen, I was on my own. I didn’t do too good in school. I took any job I could find most of my life. And here I am.”

“I’ll see you soon, Gerard. It has been quite an experience meeting you. I’ll check on you tomorrow. Take it easy.”

A few minutes later, an orderly came into Gerard’s room with a food tray. “Hello, Mr. Gerard. I’m Joseph, and I’ll be bringing you your meals while you’re here. Tonight, we are serving meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and string beans with rice pudding for dessert. Also, I have left a paper on the tray where you can write down a  request if you have any. And inform the kitchen staff if you have any food that you don’t want or are not supposed to eat. I’ll take that information to the kitchen staff if you leave it on your tray. Enjoy, Mr. Gerard. I’ll see you later.” The orderly walks silently out of  Gerard’s room.

Gerard looks at the tray and suddenly realizes that he’s starving. His stomach is growling. Long ago, he learned to ignore that feeling and the sound that comes with it. Since he rarely eats more than once a day. He reaches for the tray and touches it to make sure it’s real. He pulls the tray toward him and breathes deeply. And then picks up the fork and takes a bite of the meatloaf. The smell, the texture are overwhelming, and Gerard feels a tear roll down his cheek. He smiles and begins eating like there won’t be a tomorrow and this is his last meal. When he finishes, he sighs and pushes the tray back, and falls fast asleep.

When Gerard wakes up and looks around, he doesn’t immediately remember where he is and what’s happening. His head hurts, and he’s sore all over, and then it all comes back to him. Trying to cross the street and being hit by a car and then nothing.

“Maybe I’m in heaven?” And then he laughs to himself. He glances around the room he sees an empty bed. And beyond that, a window. He can’t see much more since he hasn’t been able to buy glasses in many years. His close-up vision isn’t much better.

Later that day, a young man comes into Gerard’s room and walks over to his bed. He takes the chart at the end of the bed and studies it. Then he clears his throat and says,” Mr. Tippin, Mr. Tippin, are you awake? I would like to talk to you for a few moments.” He clears his throat again.

Gerard slowly opens his eyes and sees a tall young man in scrubs standing next to his bed. He rubs his eyes. “Yes, I’m Gerard.”

I’m a physical therapist here at the hospital. My name is Donald Abraham. And I’m your doctor, and I have been discussing the type of physical therapy that would benefit you the most. We’ve decided that a combination of treatments would be the most beneficial. I’m talking about massage, hot tubs, muscle stimulation, and in the beginning low, impact exercise. I would like to start this afternoon. How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I have trouble walking because of my feet.”

“I think you will see that we have already addressed that issue, Gerard. Allow me to show you.”

The therapist lifts the sheet and blanket off of Gerard’s legs. Gerard looks down at his legs, then his feet, and is shocked. He hasn’t been able to cut his toenails for years because of his back and his vision. He looks closely at his feet and sees normal feet with normal toenails. Gerard looks at the therapist and says, “that’s amazing. I hardly recognize my own feet. I’ll be able to wear real shoes again, and my feet won’t be freezing all winter. Thank you so much. He smiles from ear to ear. Thank you.”

The next morning a woman is standing at Gerard’s bedside when he wakes up. “Good Morning Mr. Tippin. My name is Elaine Marshall. I’m a patient advocate at the hospital. I had a conversation with Dr. Drachman, and he related to me some of the challenges you are currently facing. I‘ve been talking to our local Social Service offices, and they are looking for some home-sharing possibilities for you. I understand you get Disability. Do you get any other assistance?”

“Assistance? Oh, you mean money?”

“Yes, financial assistance. For instance, have you ever served in the military?”

“Yes, but only for a few years. I was getting some money because I was injured in Viet Nam. But I had to move so many times over the years. And they lost track of where I was located, and then for a few years, I lived on the street.”

“I see. Well, I tell you what, I’m going to leave these papers with you to fill out. This will include your Social Security number. I’ll be better able to get help from the VA with that. Can you fill these papers for me?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t really read anymore since I lost my glasses long ago. I told the doctor about that. And I can’t really see far away either.”

“Well. That’s something I can help you with too Gerard. I’ll arrange for you to have your eyes tested and see if we can’t get you some new glasses before you’re discharged. In the meantime, I’ll read you the questions, and you can supply me with the information.”

“Really, I would love to be able to read again, and I used to read all the time. Thank you again.”

“Oh, Gerard, I also wanted to let you know that a physical therapy team is going to start working on your back issues this afternoon. Let’s get started with the paperwork. I’ll type it in on my laptop here and then print out copies for you and then forward the paperwork. Question one is do you have any living relatives that we can contact about your situation?”

“I don’t know. After I came back from Viet Nam, I was injured. And I was really messed up. I started drinking. For a long time, I was able to keep working, but later it got worse, and I got fired from one job after another. It was my fault. I guess, half the time, I didn’t show up, or I showed up hungover or still drunk. I kept getting fired. I moved from one place to another sometimes, I didn’t have any place to sleep. So, I slept outside. I lost touch with my family. I grew up in twenty different foster homes. My family might all be dead. I don’t know. They probably think I died a long time ago.”

“I remember the names and addresses from long ago. But that’s about it.”

“Alright, let’s get started.”

An hour later, she finishes up the paperwork and closes her laptop. She feels today is going to be a good day for her because she knows that she will be able to make a big difference in this particular man’s life. She smiles and pulls the sheet and blankets up to Mr. Tippin’s chin. And tip-toes out of the room.

Later that day, Gerard is once again sleeping and realizes someone else is speaking to him. Gerard hasn’t talked to so many people in one day in decades. He feels a little overwhelmed. “Hello Gerard, my name is Samantha Cummings. I’m one of the therapists that will be working with you. Do you think that you can get out of bed by yourself?

Gerard looks at her and feels immediately embarrassed. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had beautiful red hair with gold highlights. It’s pulled back in a ponytail that hangs down her slender back. Her eyes are green. Gerard always had a weakness for redheads. He stares at her and says, “I don’t know. I haven’t been out of bed since I woke up from the car accident.”

“In that case, allow me to help you to get out of bed and over to the wheelchair next to the bed. And then I’ll take you to your first therapy session. Ok, if you can try to sit up, I’ll assist you. That’s right, try to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Now, the hard part. I’m going to stand next to you and guide you to the wheelchair. Don’t worry, and the wheelchair won’t move. The brake is on. And then we’ll be on our way”.

“Excellent, Gerard, you did wonderfully. And now I’ll take you to the rehab. We’ll have to take the elevator to the second floor, and we will be just about there.”

As Gerard and the therapist get onto the elevator, four people come up to the elevator door, and the therapist holds back the elevator door for them. Gerard is so afraid that one of them or all of them will start laughing at him or calling him names. He hangs his head down low. Hoping that no one will notice him.

All the passengers get off at the next floor. Gerard breathes a sigh of relief. He never knows what kind of reaction people will have to his unusual appearance. This was the story of his life. Rejection because of the way he looks. He tries never to call attention to himself, if possible. Ordinarily, he only goes out after dark. And he frequents the same places all the time where people had seen him before. And they just ignored him. He tries to be invisible.

Since he was a small child, he has always been picked on and bullied. Especially since he grew up in foster care. The bigger kids always picked on him. Girls ran away from him, yelling,” freak” at him. He knew what he looked like. Although the older he grew, the less often he looked in the mirror. He knows he doesn’t take care of himself. That he should wash more often and cut his hair, but it all felt so pointless. He knows he looks weird, but what can he do about it? He often hates himself. And wishes he could go to sleep one night and not wake up. No one would miss him. No one cares about him.

As they arrive at the second floor, the therapist says, “here we are, Gerard, hold on tight.”

Gerard takes a quick look from left to right, and the coast is clear. No one is coming his way.  “Here we are. Shall we get started? First, you are going to soak in the whirlpool bath, and then one of the massage therapists will give you a massage. Then we’ll begin doing some exercise that, over time, will increase your mobility. What kind of exercise do you usually get, Gerard?”

“Exercise. I don’t have a car, so I usually walk. But the only place I go to is the Bodega at the end of the street for my groceries. I can’t carry that much because of my back. So, I go there several times a week.”

“Couldn’t you have your food delivered, Gerard?”

“Delivered? I can hardly afford to buy even the cheapest food. I buy Ramen Soup and hotdogs and white bread when it is on sale. That’s about it.”

“Gerard, did you ever apply for food stamps?”

“Yeah, a long time ago when I was living in the middle of the city. But now I have to take the bus anywhere far. And I don’t have the money to do that.”

“Perhaps, if you don’t mind, I can talk to the patient advocate and see if they can help you apply for food stamps?”

“Really, you would do that?”

“Of course, Gerard. Everyone here wants to help you recover and to get assistance to meet your basic needs. We care about you, Gerard.”

Gerard feels a lump in his throat and swallows hard. It’s hard to believe that all of these people who never met him before are going to help him. He has a hard time trusting people. He looks at the therapist and quietly says, “thank you.”

Later that day, after lunch, Elaine Marshall, the Patient Advocate, sits next to Gerard’s bedside, patiently waiting for him to wake up. She’s reading through his file. She is in an optimistic mood because she has actually made progress for this particular patient. She has spent her whole career trying to make a positive difference in people’s lives. And occasionally, she’s able to help them. Some in small ways, and once in a blue moon, she makes a positive outcome for some of the high-risk patients.

Gerard slowly begins to wake up and senses that someone is looking at him. He opens his eyes and is pleasantly surprised to find the beautiful redhead Elaine next to his bed. “Good afternoon, Gerard. How are you feeling? Any better?”

Gerard realizes that he does actually feel better. His head still hurts a little, and he is still sore all over. But his heart feels lighter. He feels there is a glimmer of hope that his life may improve. “Yes, I do feel better.” And he smiles at her.

“That’s wonderful, Gerard. I’m so relieved and happy to hear that. And I believe you will feel better after I tell you some good news. First, I believe I have found a place for you to live. It is a home-sharing situation for homeless Veterans. They have an opening, and I have sent them your information. They have tentatively approved your application. It is not far from downtown. So, it will be within walking distance of shops and stores. You’ll have your own bedroom. You will share a bathroom with one other person, and you will be able to access the common room where you can watch TV or listen to music, or play cards.

And in addition, everyone is allowed to use the kitchen where you can prepare your meals. Also, I have applied for the VA benefits that you used to get. I’ll have to make a copy of your Social Security Card and email it to them. I’ll keep in touch with them, and I’m fairly certain that you will soon begin getting some additional funds from the VA since you sustained injuries. And finally, tomorrow morning, you are going to be taken to have your vision checked and be able to get those glasses you need so badly.

Gerard stares at her, afraid to believe what she has told him. He had so many disappointments in his life. It’s difficult for him to trust anyone. Finally, she puts out her hand and extends it for Gerard. He looks down at her hand. He looks into her eyes. He sees kindness. He reaches for her hand and holds it briefly. She smiles at him.

“Gerard, you’re going to be discharged tomorrow, but you’ll be coming back to the hospital as an Out-Patient to the clinic to continue your physical therapy, for advice about nutrition, to pick up your new glasses, and to get updates on your VA Benefits. I want you to know that I’m continuing to try and contact any family members of yours that might still be living. I’ll keep you up to date on anything I find out. Tomorrow I’ll be taking you over to New Beginnings, the shared housing I spoke to you about. After you look it over, you can decide whether you would feel comfortable living there. If you do, we can go pick up your belongings and move you in. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I get to decide if I want to live there. Have they accepted me?”

“Why yes, of course, they have accepted you. Would you like to go there tomorrow and take a look?

“Yes, I have never wanted to do anything more. And I would truly love to do just that.”

“Alright, Gerard, I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and pick you up by 10 am. I’ll see you then.”

As she walks out the door, Gerard watches as she walks down the long hallway. He realizes he had just met an angel. One that came into his life unexpectantly and gave him a new lease on life, a new beginning.

Corona Virus- April 11th, 2020

Corona Virus- April 11th, 2020

I sat for two days trying to decide what to say about my experiences during the past week and come up with nothing. Early this morning at 4 AM,  I realized so many, many things happened that I hadn’t even been able to take it all in at all.

It begins with the fact that although I have always struggled with insomnia. I now have difficulty sleeping at all. I fall asleep exhausted at about 10 PM. I sleep for about one and a half hours and then wake up. It may take me two hours to fall back to sleep. My mind keeps going over and over all the nightmarish events that have happened that day, this past week. Sometimes I silently cry. If I do fall asleep again, I wake up every two hours and toss and turn. I finally wake up at about 4:30 AM for the day.

On a personal level, I was contacted by a family member and told that my brother-in-law had passed away. He lived in NJ. I live in NC, where we retired to three and a half years ago. I have known and love my brother-in-law Pat since I was about ten or eleven years old. He was married to my sister Jeanie. She passed away from emphysema in 1979.  She was forty-two. Pat was always kind and caring towards me for the entirety of my life. And when I was told he passed away, I didn’t let this sad news touch me. I sent out condolence cards. And then I  blocked it from my mind. In the past three years, I have lost my oldest brother, his wife, and my brother- law Jake.

I was told that there was only going to be a small funereal with ten or fewer people because of the danger of Corona Virus. Ten people to mourn a man who was a husband, father, grandfather, brother and uncle, friend to many. I was told maybe they would be having an Irish wake for Pat in the Fall.  I responded, “Oh, right, of course, that makes sense.”

I filed this bad news away far back in my mind, in the vault where I am keeping all my feelings now. All the fear, all the loss,  that I have no clue how to deal with it at any level. I didn’t tell anyone about my brother-in-law passing. Why?Bbecause all I hear, all that we hear all day are the numbers, big incomprehensible numbers of people that are dying in our state, in our country, in the world. It is impossible to comprehend, to digest. It is incomprehensible, completely overwhelming, and heartbreaking.

So, I lock it away, because I know that if I even think about it for even a minute, I will not be able to take one more step forward. I will be stuck in that moment, overwhelmed with fear and grief and loss. Anger is what I’m feeling right now. It is eating away at me, making me feel helpless and alone.

I have always been a person that deals with difficulties by looking at the problem, finding solutions, and then solving that problem. And now, I have no solutions. The problem is too big for me. I’m scared. I’m afraid of what the final outcome will be not just for me but for my family, our country, and the world. The loss of life already is devastating and hard to take in.

I worry about all the people who have lost loved ones or who will ultimately lose many people or might die themselves. I worry about the people who lost their jobs and don’t know when or if they will have jobs to go back to. I worry about how they will take care of their families with no income.

I worry about a country with a leader that thinks a couple of thousand dollars will take care of American families for the duration of this virus while giving big corporations billions.

I’m a person that has always looked around at my fellow humans and did what I could to help them. I continue to try and do that, but this problem is too big for me. I think we have to do everything we can to survive this and help the people around us when we can.

How this will end, I can not say. It will evolve. But I do know that significant changes will have to take place or we can not go on as we have in the past. Everything we do, every choice we make has consequences. How we treat our fellow man, how we pollute our planet.

Right now, in this moment, in this day, I will do the best that I can. I can not do more than that.

__________________________________

THE OTHER SIDE of HAPPINESS

The ancient Buick hustles down the dirt road. A cloud of dust swirls up on either side of the black car and paints it a dirty gray. In the back window, a young girl presses her face against the window. Tears stream down her pale face leaving trails on either cheek. Her body trembles in her struggle to suppress the sob that tries to escape from her heaving chest.

She counts to ten on her fingers over and over again. Her eyes tightly shut blocking out the burning light of the early morning sun. A single word escapes her lips, “home.”

“Sit down in your seat girl, there’s a long ride ahead of us.”

Giant Sunflower

Sunflower by ONZE greatvitijd Pixababy

She takes a deep breath, and with all the strength that remains in her lagging spirit, she sits back in the seat. She gulps air through her open mouth and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She imagines walking up the path towards her house and through the red door. She sees her mother standing at the counter loading dishes into the dishwasher. She’s singing Walking After Midnight along with Miss Tammy Wynette at the top of her voice. She’s at the part where she wails out, I saw a girl that looked a lot like Billie Joe McAllister standing atop the Chocktoe Ridge.

Her mother is swinging her hips and is lost in the moment feeling every word and note of the song. When she sees Charlie, she dances up to her and sweeps her up in her arms, and continues singing and dancing.

After what seems a lifetime the car pulls onto an even more primitive road that’s little more than gravel on dirt. It’s full of ruts and the car bumps and swerves its way down the narrow path. Then makes its way up to a driveway paved with broken seashells. “Well, here we are. I want you to be on your best behavior while you’re here. You’re lucky we found someone in your family to take care of you while your mother is away. Otherwise, you would have ended up in foster care.

“Someone in my family, who, who is it? I’ve never been here before.”

“It’s your great-aunt, well actually she’s your grandmother’s sister so she’s your great, great aunt. Your Aunt Charlotte, your mother spent most of her summers with her when she was a kid.”

Charlie gets out of the car and stood stiffly next to it. She started counting to ten on her fingers again.
The woman from Social Services grabs Charlie’s bag out of the deep trunk of the old Buick and heaves it out and drops it on the ground. “Good lord child what have you got in here, rocks?”

Charlie shuffles her feet from side to side and shrugs her shoulders.

“Well let’s go then. It’s a long ride back.”

The woman picks up the duffle bag and walks toward the front door. She rings the doorbell. After a few minutes, they hear someone coming to the door and then suddenly the door flies open. And there stands an old woman not much bigger than Charlie. She has her long white hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s wearing old jeans and a flannel shirt that hangs down to her knees. Her ears are pierced and have long feathers hanging from them. Her wrinkled face is dusted with flour. There’s a smile on her face that seems somehow familiar to Charlie.

“Well, here you are, and just in time for lunch. I made some fried chicken and homemade chocolate chip cookies. They used to be your mother’s favorite. Oh, where are my manners, come in, come in.”

“Hello, Miss Tremont. Would you like to stay for lunch? I made plenty?”

“Thank you, Miss Charlotte, but I have to be on my way. It’s a long way back. Here’s my card, if there are any problems please call me. I’ll keep in touch with you ”

“Goodbye Charlie. I know you’ll be fine here with Miss Charlotte. Be a good girl. Please don’t worry. Things are going to be ok.”

Charlie stares first at the lady and then at the old woman, her hands behind her back counting. She nods at the lady and waits for someone to tell her what to do. Silently begging them to tell her where her mother is and when. When will she be able to go home? But no one does. So, she just stands there and waits. The old woman walks over to the door with the lady and whispers things to her. Things Charlie can’t make out.

The old lady comes back over to Charlie and takes her hand. “Come on Charlie I’ll show you where the bathroom is, don’t forget to wash your hands. Here you go dear take your time. Then come on in to the kitchen and we’ll eat lunch.”

When Charlie finishes using the bathroom, she’s drawn to the kitchen by the tantalizing smell of fried chicken. She follows her nose and finds herself within the confines of a kitchen unlike she had ever seen before. It’s big and bright. The walls are painted the color of sunshine. There’s a ceiling made of tin with an amazing design of birds in flight. In the middle of the ceiling is a big fan. The fan’s paddles look like they are made out of giant leaves. The curtains are blue with white lace along the edge.

But the aroma, the aroma is unbelievably fragrant and enticing. Charlie feels as if she could stay in this room forever. Comforted by the good smells of fried chicken and homemade bread and chocolate chip cookies. “Well have a seat, Miss Charlie. I can’t tell you how much I have looked forward to having you stay here with me. You’re most welcome. Please help yourself while we get to know each other. Go on now don’t be shy.”

“I’d like to tell you a little bit about myself since I didn’t have the opportunity to meet you before. I’m your Mama’s great Aunt but since my sister passed long before your mother was born, I was fortunate enough to take her place. You know you look a lot like your mother. Those deep brown eyes and that shy smile. Yes, you look so much like her when she was your age. You know she used to spend every summer here with me and we became great friends. I hope you and I will do the same. Are you enjoying the chicken? Would you like to ask me any questions?”

Charlie looks up at her with her deep brown eyes but doesn’t say anything at first. Then a single tear flows down her cheek. She nods her head.

“Charlie you can talk to me. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Where is my mama? When can I see her again? Why am I here, and when can I go home?”

Aunt Charlotte rises quietly from her chair and comes over to Charlie and kneels down and puts her arms around her. “Oh, Charlie dear, hasn’t anyone explained what has happened?”

“No, a policeman came to my school and took me. Then I was taken to a building where a lot of other children were staying. It was really loud, and I was afraid. I had to stay there for a long time. I kept crying for my mother. But no one told me anything. Then one day the lady that brought me here came. She told me that I was going to stay at my aunt’s house for a while and today she brought me here.

“Charlie your Mama isn’t feeling very well right now. She is in a special kind of hospital, but she’s going to get better and you’ll see her again soon. But until then you’ll stay here with me. You’ll be safe.  I promise, no one is going to hurt you here. I’m going to take care of you. Just like I used to take care of your Mama when she was your age. Did you know that you are named after me? Your name is Charlotte, just like me. Your Mama sent you here to stay until she feels better again, ok.”

“You promise, my Mama is going to be alright, and she will come get me? When?”

“I don’t know exactly when Charlie, but I promise she will come and get you. You and your mother will be together again. Now, how about some of those cookies? Let me get you a glass of cold milk.”
The next morning Charlie wakes up to the smell of bacon cooking. Oh, how she loved that smell. Mama didn’t cook it very often because she said it wasn’t a very healthy food. Charlie ran over the dresser and pulls out a pair of shorts and a shirt and put them quickly on. She pushes her feet into her sneakers and runs down the steps toward the smell.

“Well good morning sunshine, how are you feeling this fine morning?”

“Fine, I’m starving. I smell bacon. I just love it. Can I have some?”

“Of course, you can. I made it a special treat since it is your first morning here. Would you like some eggs too? I can make them any way you like them.”

“Really, yes Mama and I only had eggs on Sunday. Can you make scrambled eggs with the bacon mixed in?”

“Why that was your mother’s favorite too. Of course, you can, have a seat. Would you like some orange juice to go with your eggs? How about you make the toast. There’s the toaster on the counter. That will be your job in the morning.”

“Charlie, I thought that while you’re here this summer that I could really use your help with my vegetable garden out back. I grow all kinds of vegetables, tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and some herbs. I have a fig tree, and raspberries and strawberries, and some wonderful blueberries. But this year I decided to grow something special. Your mom always loved helping me. What do you think? Are you interested?”

“I guess, but I don’t know anything about gardening or growing things. We live in the city in an apartment.”

“Well, Charlie, it’s not hard. I’ll show you how to do it. Why don’t we finish eating? Could you help me with the dishes? How about I’ll wash, and you dry the dishes? Then we’ll go outside and get started.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My mom and I never had to wash dishes at home. We have a dishwasher. I never knew anyone who didn’t have one. Are you poor?”

“Well, Charlie, it’s true I don’t have a lot of money. But I have always been rich in the things that matter. I live in a beautiful place, and have plenty of sunshine and fresh air and wonderful friends. I’ve always felt those are the things in life that make you happy. It’s a simple life, but a good one. Now let’s wash these dishes and get busy outside.”

“It’s a beautiful day today Charlie, look at that sky. A blue and white sky my favorite kind.”

“Blue and white, what do you mean?”

“Well, just the right amount of blue sky with those wonderful, fluffy white clouds. It’s a miracle really.”

Charlie looks up at the sky and sees the clouds set against the clear blue and realizes she never really noticed the sky before. In the city, the sky is filled with skyscrapers and noise. People yelling, and cars beeping and the air is different; the air in the city isn’t clear it has a color all its own. She misses all the activity, the life that hustles and bustles around her on her street. It’s too quiet here. She misses all her friends.

“Why is it so quiet here? Where are all the people and cars?”

“Well, Charlie, I guess it does seem quiet to you after growing up in New York City, but you’ll see once you start listening, you’ll hear all the sounds of nature and realize that life is busy all around you.”

Charlie looks around her and at first, doesn’t notice anything moving. Then all of a sudden, she sees a rabbit hopping across the backyard. “Is that a rabbit?”

“Yes, I call her Tilly, because she’s always digging up my vegetables. But I don’t mind sharing some with her. It’s so much fun watching her and her babies running around the yard.”

“She has bunnies, oh where, where are they?”

“Be quiet and you’ll see them come out and follow their mother around eating the clover in the grass. And if you look over there at that big oak tree you’ll see Ozzie and Harriet. They’re squirrels, and they’re the best acrobats I’ve ever seen. They can climb a tree in a blink of an eye, and hang upside down by one leg. Oh, there’s Ozzie right now at the very top of the tree. Watch how he jumps from one limb to another. ”

Charlie tilts her head back and she sees at the very top of the tree a squirrel jumping from one limb to the other. She holds her breath thinking he’s going to fall for sure. But he doesn’t. He runs down the trunk of the knurled old tree and chases Tilly from one end of the garden to the other.

“Come one Charlie we’re going to plant some seeds today. Let’s go have a look at the garden. We can decide where we’re going to plant all the seeds. As they walk across the garden Charlie can hear all kinds of birds singing. She hears one bird singing in the most beautiful bold voice. What kind of bird is that, the one that sounds like it is singing pretty bird, pretty bird over and over?”

“Oh, that sounds like a bird called the Brown Thrasher or a Cardinal.”

“Can you see him?”

“Yes, that’s him right there in that big tree over there next to that shed.”
“Oh yes that’s a Cardinal, isn’t he a beauty. He serenades me every morning and sometimes again in the evening. You know I have a little book with pictures of the birds that live in this area if you would like to read it. You can look at the pictures and the description of the birds and learn to identify them and the songs they sing. Would you like that Charlie?”

“Yeah, sure I guess.”

“Alright, Charlie here we are. As you can see, I already prepared the garden for planting. I turned over all the soil, and I added nutrients to it. I make my own compost from leftover foods and plants and soil.”

Charlie had no idea what compost is, but she didn’t want to admit it so she just listens and hopes she’ll figure it all out. What kind of plants are we going to grow in the garden?”

“Well, I thought we would plant tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, and carrots. But I thought this year we would plant something special.”

“What’s that? What do you mean?

“Well, two things really. We’re going to plant pumpkins for the Fall. And something almost magical, I think. Giant sunflowers, they’ll be tall enough to tower over your head and mine and then some. The sunflowers will finish growing at the end of summer, and the pumpkins will be ready by Halloween. Won’t that be fun? Here let me show you the seeds. Charlotte held out her hand and small black and white seeds were in the palm of her hand. See these Charlie; from these little seeds, a giant flower will grow almost as big as a tree. And it will grow in just a few short months. It’s really amazing what can happen given the time and love.”

“Months, I ‘am going to have to stay here for months?”

“I know it seems like forever to you now, Charlie, but I promise you the time will pass more quickly than you realize. And in that time our garden will grow and produce wonderful things for us to eat and in that time your mother will get better. You’ll see her again soon, Charlie, I promise.”

“You promise, I’m going to be with my mom again?”

“Yes, Charlie, I promise. I will always tell you the truth. Now let’s get busy planting our garden. Let me show you how to plant the seeds.”

Every morning Charlie wakes up early, as soon as the sun shines through her bedroom window. She jumps out of the bed and runs over to the window. She sees Ozzie and Harriet chasing each other high in the tree. Leaping from one branch to another as graceful as any trapeze artist in the circus. She throws on her clothes and runs down to the kitchen to see what delicious meal her Aunt Charlotte has created.

Today it is homemade oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon. Charlie never liked oatmeal before, but Aunt Charlotte make it fresh with cream and brown sugar, and cinnamon. It is always wonderful and her tummy feels warm and content when she is finished. “Aunt Charlotte, this tastes really good. Can I go out to the garden now?”

“Well, yes, you can Charlie as soon as you brush your teeth. I’ll be out there in a little while as soon as I get the dishes washed and put away.”

Charlie runs into the bathroom and gives her teeth a quick cleaning. She can’t wait to see how her garden is doing now. Yesterday the pumpkins were as big as her head growing on long vines that trailed all over the garden. But the sunflowers were her favorite and yesterday one of them looked as if it might open its petals to the sun.

As Charlie runs out through the screen door of the back porch she can see that one of the sunflowers is blooming. Its bright yellow face turns up towards the warm light of the early morning sun. It is so tall it is towering over her head like a skyscraper. And on top of the sunflower sits Red singing out Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy at the top of his tiny lungs. In between songs he is pecking at the center of the sunflower. “What are you doing Red? Don’t ruin my sunflower.” Charlie runs back into the house and into the kitchen. Aunt Charlie Red is killing my sunflower, please come outside and stop him.”

Aunt Charlotte walks out to the garden and sees Red is atop the tallest sunflower and sees he is eating the seeds. “Oh, Charlie he isn’t killing the sunflower he’s just eating his breakfast. The whole center of the sunflower is full of seeds. That’s why I covered the tops of the other sunflowers so the birds wouldn’t take all the seeds. But I left the big one for the birds to thank them for bringing our garden to life with music. We have to share our bounty with our friends.”

“Alright, Aunt Charlotte, can I pick some of the vegetables and bring them into the house?”

“Of course, Charlie, I really appreciate your help. And when you come in, I have a surprise to share with you.”

“Really, what is it, Aunt Charlotte?”

“Well Charlie, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now.”

Charlie spent the morning picking the ripe red tomatoes, and glossy green peppers. She picked a cucumber that was as big around as her arm. She picked the long-string beans from their vines and finally some snap beans. Oh, how she loved to shell the beans. When she was finished, she turns on the sprinkler to give all her vegetables a drink.

She picks up the wicker basket that is almost too heavy for her to carry. Before she goes back into the house for lunch, she takes one more look at the giant sunflower. She can’t believe that this enormous flower grew from the tiny black and white seed.

As Charlie struggles through the porch door she sees her Aunt Charlotte standing at the stove. “Aunt Charlotte, wait until you see all the beautiful vegetables that I picked. They are the best ones so far. Look at how big this cucumber is.”

“Oh, Charlie that’s a beauty, you have become such a wonderful gardener, thank you so much for your help. Why don’t you go in and wash your hands? I’ve made a special lunch for us. I made grilled cheese sandwiches and homemade vegetable soup made from our very own vegetables.”

After Charlie washes her hands she looks into the mirror and sees that she’s smiling. She realizes that she is happy, and for a moment she feels guilty. But she knows in her heart that her mother wants her to be happy. That’s why she sent her to stay with her Aunt Charlotte. Because she had spent such wonderful and happy summers with her Aunt, she wanted the same for Charlie.

“Oh Charlie, there you are. Are you ready for your surprise?”

“Yes. Yes, what is it?” And that’s when she sees the sweet face of her mother walking through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy you’re here. I missed you so much. Charlie throws her arms around her mother and swears to herself that she will never let her go again.

“Oh, Charlie I missed you so much. I’m so sorry that I had to leave you. I promise I’ll never leave you again. Why don’t we sit down and eat what smells like a wonderful lunch? I have missed eating Aunt Charlottes’ food very much.”

After lunch, Charlie and her mother went upstairs and pack her things and get ready to leave. Suddenly Charlie feels sad at the idea of leaving Aunt Charlotte and the farm and Red and Ozzie and Harriet. She realizes she won’t see the sunflowers anymore or see the pumpkins grow large.

“Oh, Charlie dear what’s the matter?”

“Mommy I’m going to miss Aunt Charlotte so much. And I won’t see Red, and Ozzie, and Harriet again. I won’t see the sunflowers and the pumpkins.”

“Well, Charlie in life sometimes we have to lose something to gain something. But I promise you that we’re going to come back here to visit Aunt Charlotte. We’ll come here at Halloween to carve the pumpkins, and at Thanksgiving to eat pumpkin pie. Now let’s go give Aunt Charlotte a big hug and tell her how much we love her.”

As they hug Aunt Charlotte, Charlie wipes a tear from that threatens to run down her cheek. “Thank you so much, Aunt Charlotte. I love you so much. And I loved staying here with you. Mommy says that we’re going to come back and visit you at Halloween and Thanksgiving.”

“I know you will child, and I look forward to that every day until then. I’ll save some sunflower seeds for you and you can find a place in the city to grow a giant sunflower of your own.”

As Charlie looks out the back window of the car she smiles at the giant sunflower and her Aunt Charlie who is waving goodbye she looks so tiny standing next to the giant sunflower.

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CORONA VIRUS – 4/3/20

As I look back on last month, I realize that I’am finding it increasingly more difficult to accept the drastic changes that have taken place in such a short period. I wonder, is it just me? Or do other people feel a sense of disbelief?  Is this happening? A pandemic, a virus that has taken over the planet, changed the way we live, causing havoc in our daily lives. People are dying. One moment I think well it can’t happen to me. And then I think yes, it could. Why not me when I consider my age, my health issues. It could happen to me if I somehow contract the virus from another person or touching something that I shouldn’t have touched.

I miss my older daughter and her husband, who lives in Pennsylvania, outside of Philadelphia. I worry that she might get sick, and I wouldn’t be able to see her or take care of her. I want to protect them, but I can’t.

The front garden

And then there is anxiety. I keep thinking maybe I already have it and I don’t know it yet. I find myself taking my temperature before I go to bed. Insomnia is my new companion. It’s a long  when you wake up at 4 AM.

Here in North Carolina, there is a plethora of pollen. Everything is coated with it. People are sneezing and coughing, blowing their noses, including me. It is unnerving. People are afraid if you sneeze or cough. I understand because I’m one of those people.

I have attempted to keep busy every minute of my day. I volunteer at an Exotic animal sanctuary called Animal Edventure. I have been going there for three mornings a week for three and a half years, since right after I retired to NC from New Jersey.

Matilda the Emus

Matilda the Emus

I take care of twenty parrots and three Macaws. I decid that I will go in early and avoid interacting with the other people that work there. So I can decrease my chances of contracting the virus. I arrived at about 7:15 AM and leave by 10:30. I have come to love all the animals that reside in this sanctuary. And I would miss them if I wasn’t able to see them anymore. In North Carolina, people that work at animal shelters and animals, sanctuaries are permitted to go to work.  Over 220 Animals are living at Animal Edventure  including farm animals like horses, donkeys, a yak, a camel named Isaac, pigs, ostriches, emus, peacocks, monkeys, lemurs, rabbits, all types of reptiles, pheasants, turtles, tortoises of every size, and foxes. Just about anything you can think of.

After we moved to NC , we found a little restaurant in Garner, NC, about a half-hour drive from where we live. It is called the Toot and Tell. And we have been going there for breakfast on Saturday mornings for over three years. It is a family restaurant, but all kinds of people go there, young and old, black and white and brown, gay and straight. You name it. All are welcome. The people that work there know the customers. They are friendly and welcoming to everyone..They joke and laugh, and it makes you feel like your part of a family.

My husband and I always sit at the same booth. And the waitress at our table is the friendliest person you can imagine. I worry now that the restaurant is closed, how is she and all the other employees are making a living.  What is going to happen to them? How will they survive without a job? I hope they don’t go out of business. I am concerned that the people who work there will have difficulty finding new jobs. I am a worrier by nature. And then I worry about all the people out of work, how will they get by with no money or little money?

I decide to take one day at a time. I”ll fill my time with activities I enjoy. I wrote two new stories this week and started a sewing project that I hope to finish tonight. I still have a couple of hours before I have to cook dinner. So Douglas and I go out to our back yard. And I finish weeding our garden.

The sky is blue and the sun is shining on my back, There’s a slight breeze blowing. It really is a beautiful day. I try to live in the moment.

Our Koi Pond

My dog Douglas starts barking and he runs all around the yard. Enjoying the day and just happy being a dog.

So yes, this is a difficult and challenging time for me for all of us—some more than others.  I realize when I feel my life is out of my control if I help someone in some small or big way. I feel better.  I’m in control. If you can reach out and help people, do it..

And take solace in a sunny day, the Spring flowers blooming and in these few moments, peace. And let that feeling carry you through the next day and the next until this dark time is behind us—one day at a time.

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THE OLD BEAR

Did you ever meet someone that seems to wake up on the wrong side of the bed every day? Well, I did. And that man was my father. My father was a grouch. At least that’s what I believed when I was a child. It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized that my father was not so much a grouch as a perfectionist and with a dash of pessimism.

My father with his dog Andy

I look over at my dad on the other side of the dinner table. He doesn’t always eat dinner with our family. It depends on what shift he’s working on at the Philadelphia Transportation Company. He’s the head dispatcher for the city bus company. If he’s working the second shift, he works four to twelve pm; if he works the third shift, he works 12 Pm to 8 AM.

When my dad works the third shift, we have to be very quiet in the house. Because he is sleeping during the day. Luckily for us, he is deaf in one ear and has a tendency to sleep on his good ear. But woe is to you if you make too much noise and wake him up.

If he’s working the second shift, I usually get home from school right before he leaves for work. As I walk down our sidewalk, I look into the kitchen window and see my dad sitting at the kitchen table. As I rush through the door, I see my mother putting my father’s dinner plate on the table. He is sitting there with a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. With his elbows on the table. The king of the kitchen. I see my mom is giving him his favorite dinner six hotdogs sliced up into little pieces and ketchup. My dad loves ketchup. Sometimes he water’s it down and drinks it. He likes to use the left-over pickle juice from the pickle jar and add all kinds of weird foods to it, like hard-boiled eggs and beets and relish and any other really spicy things. “Oh no, dad you’re eating that weird pickle juice stuff with the beets.”

“Ah, you don’t know what you’re missing, Susabelle.”

“Yuck.” One day I looked in the refrigerator and I saw a glass jar in there. I kept staring at it. Finally, I asked my mom, “What’s that in the jar in the back of the refrigerator?”

“Oh, that’s just your father’s cow tongue. He slices it and makes sandwiches.”

“Make’s sandwiches out of cow tongue?”  I thought I would puke. How disgusting can you be? Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions in my house.

One night last week, I was sitting at the table and watching him eat. He kept telling me to stop picking at my dinner. It wasn’t one of my favorite dinners, so I didn’t want to eat it. Sometimes, my mother would say, Susan, don’t waste your food. Think about the poor starving children in Africa.”

I really couldn’t understand why not eating my dinner would hurt the poor starving children in Africa. Where ever that was. So, I kept pushing the food around on my plate to make it look like I was eating. Then my father said,” Stop playing with your food, Susan.” I didn’t start eating, but I did start rocking my chair back on its back legs. My father got louder, “stop rocking your chair back and forth, Susan.” But, I didn’t, and all of the sudden my father reached across the table at me. I guess to smack me. Although he never hit me before. I guess I got on his last nerve. I figured he was going to smack me and I rocked back further on the chair legs. And over the chair went, taking the tablecloth with me and half the stuff on the table. As you can imagine he was really angry at me by then. And he roared at me, I can’t remember just what he said. But he did put the fear of god into me. And I started bawling like there was no tomorrow. “Get up, Susan, sit up. Are you happy now?”

I can’t really say I was happy, but I was relieved that he didn’t smack me. Although I probably deserved it.

My father kept his collection of pens on the counter behind his seat. And anyone who touched his pens was at risk of their lives. So, I always felt compelled to go over and move them around when he wasn’t looking. If he noticed he didn’t say anything. All the important things happened in our kitchen while we were sitting at the table. This included all of the conversations that we had as a family. Although, I tried to keep my mouth shut since I usually put my foot in it.

My father would sit in his seat, and behind him, he had a metal table fan that ran all year round. My father was a large man and he always felt hot and uncomfortable. He was the only one to have an air conditioner in his room and it ran all year round. In the dead of winter, he would go outside with just a wool scarf and a fake fur hat on his balding head.

My father is a creative man. He likes to make things out of stuff he finds or buys really cheap. He makes collages. He collects pictures out of magazines that he buys at the Lions Club. One of his favorite magazines is National Geographic. One of the collages is very large and hangs over our glass fireplace. Perhaps four by six feet wide. Within the collage are pictures of naked women. This collage became a silent battleground between my father and mother. My mother is a quiet person and a religious who doesn’t believe that pictures of naked women belonged on the living room wall for all the world to see.

My parents never talk about these pictures. Every time my father goes out to the store, or the track or to work my mother puts Holy Cards over the naked women in the collage. And when my father comes home, he uncovers the ladies. This went on for a long time until my father took up making String Art. The one hanging in our living room now is a huge piece over the fireplace. He made a spiderweb out of nails and string, and he found a giant plastic, hairy spider. When my friends came over, they all stare at it with their mouths hanging open. They look at me for an answer or explanation, I just shrug my shoulders. It doesn’t seem odd to me, because I love making things too, my father and I had that in common.

Yesterday my father said, “Susabelle, do you want to take a ride with me?’ I didn’t have to think twice. My father rarely took me anywhere.”

“Yes, I would. Where are we going?”

“Oh, not far.”

“We got in the car, and my father drove maybe five or ten minutes away. We were still in our town of Maple Shade, NJ. He drove down a street and pulled over to the curb and parked in front of a house. It looks similar to our Cape Cod house. “Do you see that Susie?”

“What that house?”

“Yes, that house, my friend Dar and I built that house?”

“It’s really great.” I looked at my dad and thought, my dad, can build houses. Wow. And then we went home, I never mentioned the ride I took with my dad to anybody. Because it made me feel like I was special because my dad took me to see it.

My father had our cellar filled with woodworking tools. He remodeled our kitchen and built a fence that was in our front yard for years.

Sometimes my father is in a bad mood, and he doesn’t want to talk to anybody. He’ll sit in his chair in the living room and watch one of his shows. Andy, our dog, will sit next to his chair, and my dad will pet his head all night. Until it is time to go to work or go to bed. Depending on the shift, he is working.  When he is in a bad mood. I stay far away from him. He can say cutting and hurtful things to me and my siblings when he is in a bad mood.

For instance, Christmas time is not always a good time for my father. He will put the Christmas lights on the rose arbor outside the front door. And put the big plastic Santa on the front step. And hang all the grandchildren’s stockings from the fireplace mantle. But then there are those times that Christmas seems to make him sad. He doesn’t want to talk too much. Everyone in my family goes out of their way to buy something that he will like. Sometimes He often refuses to open Christmas presents. Sometimes he will laugh and smile, sometimes silent.

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