Tag Archives: fear

LIFE ISN’T ALL IT IS CRACKED UP TO BE

Life isn’t always easy, is it? At least, that has always been my experience. My troubles began when I was a little girl. I know that was a long, long time ago, but it still affects my everyday life. Let me explain, one day, and I was out on my front sidewalk. I was about seven years old at the time. I was playing hopscotch with my best friend, Jo Ann Mortimer.

Anyway, it was my turn, and I began by singing the part that says, “step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” And at just that point in the rhyme, I tripped and stepped on the crack and fell. I really got a big scape on both of my knees at the same time. And I started crying, and I guess I’ve always had a low threshold for pain. All the other kids started laughing and making fun of me, calling me a “crybaby.” I got even more upset because they were calling me names. So, I started crying even louder, and everyone started laughing at me. I got up from the sidewalk and ran home. I was only three doors down from my house. But I cried all the way home.

When I was out in front of my house, I saw my mother on the sidestep. And that is when I really started crying full blast. For some reason, whenever I got hurt playing outside, the sight of my mother took me to another level of hysteria. My mother looked up in alarm, and she started coming down the steps to intercept me, and she tripped and fell down the four remaining steps, and then she didn’t move.

I ran as fast as I could to get to my mother. But when I ran over to her, I realized she wasn’t moving at all. I called out,” Mom, Mom wake up, wake up.” She didn’t move or answer. I ran up the steps and flung open the kitchen door, and it made a loud bang as it hit the side of the railing that was on the top step. My father must have been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast along with two of my older siblings. And he shouted,” Sally, what the hell have you done to your mother? She could have broken her neck or her back. Get out of the way.”

I stood there transfixed by my mother, who was still lying at the bottom of the steps on the sidewalk, and she was moaning and attempting to sit up. My father said, “Mary, Mary take it easy you took a fall. Move slowly. My mother then sat up, and she cried, “oh my back, my back, it really hurts.” A single tear slowly made its way down her cheek, followed by another and another. My father said Mary take your time. Let me help you get up. And then he helped her sit up and then slowly lifted her up to her feet. He said, “ OK, Mary, let’s get you in the house. Take it easy. There’s no rush.” And he slowly helped her through the kitchen door and lowered her to her chair at the kitchen table. I stood there silently, feeling such tremendous guilt and remorse. Because I knew it was all my fault because I had stepped on the crack, and now my mother’s back was broken. I cried and cried and cried.

My father said, “what the hell are you crying for?”

I said, “it was my fault because I was playing hopscotch, and I stepped on the crack, and now Mommy’s back is broken. And I renewed my crying and began wailing. My mother said, “Sally, it was not your fault I tripped and fell. Please stop crying. I’m going to be alright, “Henry, could you please go get me the heating pad and a couple of aspirin?”

“Of course. I hope she stops crying by the time I get back, and I can’t stand when she carries on like that.”

My mother said, “come here, Sally, give me a hug. Everything is fine. I’ll be right as rain in no time. Why don’t you go in and watch some cartoons? You’ll feel better in no time, and so willl I.”

And over a couple of weeks, my mother did start to feel better. My father even took her to the doctor to make sure she was alright. And my mom came into my room when she came home from the doctor. She told me that the doctor said it was just a bad bruise and a pulled muscle. And that she would be her old self in no time at all. I said, “Mom, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know that saying that rhyme could actually make you hurt your back. I promise I’ll never say it again.”

“Sally, please stop blaming yourself. It was just an accident, no more. Now go in and watch TV.”

I never brought up the subject of my mother falling down the steps again in front of my parents or my brothers and sisters. But I never for a minute forgot about it. And over the course of my childhood, I became more and more fearful. That if I said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, I could hurt my mother or anyone I cared about. So, I knew I had to be extremely careful of all my words and actions. By the time I graduated from high school, I had transformed into a frightened and neurotic person, afraid of everything, and anything I did or said might hurt my family and my friends.

In my senior year in high school, I caught a cold, and my father told me I couldn’t stay home from school since it was my last year and to take tissues with me and take some cough medicine before I left to take the bus to school. I tried to be careful and not get too close to anyone or cough without covering my mouth. But, somehow, some way, a few days later, several girls that I went to school with were sneezing and coughing. They all knew what a germaphobe I was, and they called me a “typhoid Mary .” Because I was so afraid of everything, I mean absolutely everything, germs, steps, heights, enclosed spaces like elevators, storms, and spiders, and getting sick and dying suddenly. In other words a complete basket case. But, the worse fear I developed was social anxiety. I developed a belief that people thought I was crazy because of all my phobias and didn’t want to be around me. Of course, there was some truth in that since I was acting out of control and frightened of my own shadow at times.

On graduation day from high school, I was a complete and utter basket case. I was afraid of wearing the cap and gown that my school required. I only felt safe in my own clothes and my school uniform. The mother superior of my high school knew all about my phobias since the school had to deal with them for four years. So, she called me to her office, and she asked me, “how are you doing, Sally?”

“Well, I’m a little nervous about graduating and leaving school and getting a job or maybe going to college. I haven’t been able to decide what I want to do yet. I really don’t have a clue what I can do since there are so many obstacles in my way. And right now, I’m upset because I can’t wear my uniform under my cap and gown. I only feel safe in my uniform. I don’t want to wear a dress under the cap and gown.”

“Sally, that is not a problem. It is perfectly fine if you wear your uniform under the cap and gown. So, put that worry right out of your mind. OK?”

“Really, thanks, sister. I was so worried about that all year.”

“What else is on your mind, Sally? Have you decided to go on to college or get a job?”

“I haven’t decided. I don’t know what I want to study. Maybe I should get a job and then go to college later when I have a better idea of what I want to do. But I don’t know how to do anything, so I don’t know what kind of job I could do?”

“Well, Sally, that’s not really true. You know how to type. You’re quite proficient at it. And you are an excellent writer and have an amazing imagination. You are highly efficient and organized. You are kind and thoughtful of people. In fact, I had two employers contact me seeking a new employee, and I feel like you would be a great fit. I spoke to them about some of the issues you have with phobias. And they both felt that over time you would be able to adapt to their office environment. What do you say? Are you interested?”

“Well, I don’t know. I have trouble meeting new people sometimes, and I have difficulty learning new things.”

“Sally, you lack confidence in yourself. You have excelled in school, especially in tests. You always studied hard and were prepared for every class. Yes, you are quiet and shy. But over time, you did make friends here at school. I trust you will be able to do the same thing at a job. And later, you might consider going on to college part-time and taking some classes that you are interested in.”

“Really? You really believe I could do that?”

“ Oh, course. Are you interested in finding out about the jobs?”

“Yes, I guess so, and my dad told me I had to get a job, so I don’t really have much choice.”

“Alright then, the first job is a dental assistant job. You would be assisting the dentist chairside with his patients, developing ex-rays, answering the telephone when patients call to make appointments, setting up the dental instruments for the doctor before the patients arrive, and also, on the dentist’s day off, typing bills and sending them out to patients. The dentist assured me that he would train you to do one thing at a time and not overwhelm you with too many tasks until you were ready to learn a new skill and confident in yourself. “

“Answering the phone, oh, I don’t know. “

“ Well, you would answer the phone and tell the patient that it was the dentist’s office, and they would tell you if they needed an appointment and or to cancel an appointment. Easy, and if you didn’t know, you ask the doctor. “

“The other job is similar, only it is in a psychiatrist’s office, and you would be answering the phone, greeting the patients, and transcribing the doctor’s notes. Not exactly rocket science. And you are a highly structured young woman and smart, and you learn quickly. You will gain confidence over time, just as you have done here at school. Think about it for a few days or a week, and let me know. All of your teachers are more than willing to give you good references.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I have seen you grow and evolve over time. I know you still have some fears and phobias, but I believe that over time you can over overcome these difficulties. And do you know that everyone has situations where they are frightened. Over the course of our lives, sometimes bad things happen, but we can overcome our fears, and we can move forward in our lives, one step at a time. What do you say? Are you ready to take that next step forward into your future? I have every confidence in your ability to succeed.”

“Well, I’m not sure, but I will do my best. Thank you for believing in me..”

“ That’s great, Sally. Take one step forward at a time, one day at a time. Now let me give you the phone number of the two potential employers. I know they are looking forward to hearing from you as soon as possible.”

Sally slowly looks up and smiles  shyly at the principal, and said, “yes, one day at a time.”

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A LONG SUMMER’S WEEKEND

It was August of 1965 I just turned fourteen years old in late May. My childhood best friend, Joanie calls me up one day and asks me if I would be interested in going camping with her other best friend Dolores Brennan.

Joan originally agreed to go camping with her but decides she really doesn’t want to go camping at all. Since she hates the idea of sleeping outside in a tent, on the ground. And has an almost pathological fear of insects, especially mosquitoes. And as everyone knows New Jersey is the breeding ground in the summer for every kind of biting insect, especially mosquitoes.

On top of that Dolores’s father was going to be going with them. And they would all be sleeping in the same tent together. Joan went on to explain that she felt really weird about sleeping in the same tent with Dolores and her father for some weird reason. 

My family never took summer vacations or trips when I was a kid, ever. Joan’s family took summer vacations to Florida almost every year. I had never been anywhere at all unless I could ride there on my bike. And my parents expected me to be home at five o’clock on the dot. Or there would be hell to pay. Well, not really. They just remind me, “You know we eat at 5 pm and you shouldn’t keep other people waiting.”

So, when Joan calls and asks if I would like to go camping with Dolores and her father I did not hesitate to say, “Yes, I would love to go camping with them.” And Joan responds, “great I’ll give Dolores a call and let her know that you’ll go. And I’ll give her your phone number and she’ll call you with all the details.”

I pack a bag that includes enough clothes for at least three weeks even though I would only be gone for two days. I “borrow” one of my older sister’s bathing suits. Since I didn’t have a swimming suit of my own that still fits me. As I had grown quite a bit since the last time I went swimming in Jackie’ Rice’s above-ground pool. Hopefully, my sisters wouldn’t notice it was missing before I left.

I nonchalantly tell my parents that I’m going camping with Joan’s friend Dolores and her father. They never met Dolores but have been hearing about her for years. Since I was extremely jealous of Joan’s friendship with Dolores. I insisted that Joan could only have one best friend. And Joan insists that it’s alright because I was her best neighborhood friend. And Dolores is her best friend in school. Joan is a year younger than I was and so she was in a different year of school.

The day of the trip finally arrives and I’m impatiently waiting for Dolores and her father to arrive in front of my house. They know that I live two houses away from Joan’s house. I stare out the living room window.  My father says, “you’re going to stare a hole in the window if you keep that up.” My mother says, “Leave her alone she’s not hurting anything by looking out the window.”

And then, at last, I see an old car pull up in front of my house. And I can see Dolores sitting in the front seat next to her day. “Here she is, I’ll see you on Sunday night.” And I grab my bag with my stuff in it and run out the door before they can change their minds about letting me go. I run out to the car as fast as I can. Dolores has her window down and says, “get in the back.” I am a little upset because she isn’t going to sit in the back with me. Then I open the car door and throw my suitcase onto the back seat and jump in. I glance out the window and I can see both of my parents looking out the front window and waving at me. I give them a little wave, and before you know it, we are on our way.

Dolores doesn’t even introduce me to her father, she just says,” hi.” And then she turns the radio up. Her dad pulls out into Fellowship Rd. and heads toward Route 73 South towards the shore, where we will be camping. After about a half-hour of silence, I say,” so how long a drive is it to the campsite, Dolores?”

“Oh, it’s about another forty-five minutes.” And then she turns the radio up louder. I start feeling a little mad and almost feel like telling them I want to go home. But I realize if I do that my parent will decide I’m too young to go anywhere without them. So, I keep my mouth shut. Dolores and her father start having a conversation about what people they know that might be there. And how they are looking forward to cooking over a fire and swimming in the lake that is nearby.

I decided that I will start asking questions so that they will include me in the conversation. I wish that Dolores had sat in the back seat with me. I wonder why she asks if I could go with her if she wasn’t going to talk to me and just ignore me sitting in the back seat of her car.

“Dolores, do you know how to swim?”

“What? Of course, I know how to swim, silly. Only babies don’t know how to swim.”

Oh, oh I think, I don’t know how to swim. I will have to be careful not to let her know. The only place I have ever been swimming was my neighbor above the ground pool. It is shallow and I can stand up in and it was about up to my chest. I never learned how to swim.

Her father still hasn’t said anything to me. My father is kind of a grouch, so he doesn’t really talk to my friends that come over, other than to tell them to pipe down while he’s watching TV. So, I try not to take his ignoring me personally. But the fact, that Dolores is ignoring me pretty much, is really making me mad. I’m not sure what I should do though.

After a while, we get on a big highway and I see a sign that says South Bound Atlantic City. So, I know we are getting closer. I realize that my ear is starting to hurt me. I must have gotten water in my ear when I was shampooing my hair last night. I get a lot of earaches so I know in a little while my ear is really going to start hurting me. I wonder if I should say something before, we get any further.

“Dolores, I’m starting to get an earache. Maybe your dad should take me back home before we get any further otherwise, I’m going to keep you up all night with my earache.”

“What? We’re not going to turn back now, we’re almost there, don’t be a baby.”

I’m so mad at Dolores now that I feeling like giving her a big punch. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like her. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the trip. In about an hour her father announces, “here we are, get ready for some fun.”

My ear is really throbbing now and I know I shouldn’t go swimming or my ear will get more water in it and then I will get an infection. And I will have to go to the doctor’s when I get home. “Dolores, my ear is really starting to hurt, I’m not going to be able to go swimming.”

Dolores turns her head and looks at me and makes a really mean face at me. But she doesn’t say anything at all. And her father acts like he doesn’t even know that I’m in the back seat. Since he hasn’t said a word to me. I wonder what I should do, but I really have no idea. I just sit there with my ear throbbing. I guess I will just keep quiet and hope it doesn’t get worse and hope the weekend goes by quickly. I feel miserable.

About ten or fifteen minutes later we approach a sign that says. CAMPING FOR FAMILIES. Dolores’s father pulls up to the entrance and hands something to the guy in the booth at the entrance. “OK I got our campsite, lets go park and set up the tent and the campsite. He’s looking at Dolores and is still acting like I’m not in the back seat of the car. I feel like I’m invisible. I vow never to talk to Dolores again and I am definitely and going to tell Joan that I’m mad at her as well. Why didn’t she warn me that Dolores and her father were weirdos?

Dolores’s father pulls his car into the camping site and parks the car. Then he jumps out of the car and opens the trunk. “Ok, you guys come on out and help me unload the camping gear and set up camp.”

I feel a little better because at least he acknowledges that I exist for the first time. “Come on, get out and help.”

I’m so mad at Dolores that I feel my temper is rising and soon I will smack her or something. I go over to where she is standing and say, “what do you want me to do? I’ve never been camping before?”

“Just grab some of the stuff from the trunk and bring it over to where my father is standing and once, we get out everything from the trunk, we’ll set up the tent.”

“Ok.” And I do just that, she hasn’t even smiled at me or said anything to me except that I was acting like a baby. I’m so, so angry.

We follow Dolores’ father into the woods carrying all the heavy camping equipment with us. We have to make two trips to get all the equipment to the campsite. I have no idea how to set up a campsite let alone put up a tent. The only tent I ever put up was in my backyard. My friends and I would throw a blanket over the clothesline in the backyard and then pin it to the ground by hammering clothespins into the ground on either side of the clothesline.

I watch Dolores and her father put the tent up and set up a place to cook whatever food they brought with them. It is a small tent. And I can’t help but think and now I have to share this small space inside this little tent with Dolores and her father all night.

I wish there was some way to get out of this situation aside from demanding that they take me home right now. And I truly wish I had the guts to do just that but I don’t. Dolores says come on let’s take a walk and I’ll show you where the showers and the bathroom is located in case you have to go to the bathroom during the night.

“What? Do you expect that I will be able to find the bathroom in the dark in the middle of the night by myself? Are you crazy? I’ll get lost. Then what? If I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I’m going to wake you up and you are going to have to go with me.”

Dolores looks at me like I’m crazy. “No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Yes, Dolores you are, or you and your father are going to have to take me back home right now.”

Dolores doesn’t say anything to me after that. And that was just fine with me. I didn’t care if she ever spoke another word to me for the rest of my life. Dolores says, “come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is just in case and the showers are right next to the bathroom. I hope you brought a towel with you because they don’t supply them here.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me that before we left? I had no idea, I told you I have never been camping before. We made our way through the woods to the bathroom and then we both went into a stall to pee. It was disgusting. Apparently, you are supposed to bring toilet paper with you too, but I didn’t know that. This was turning into a real nightmare. I yelled out, “Dolores, do you have any toilet paper?”

She yelled back, “you mean you didn’t bring toilet paper with you?”

“No, I didn’t Dolores. No one told me too and I never went into a public toilet that didn’t have toilet paper there for people to use. Why didn’t you tell me that either?”

I hear Dolores laugh. And then a roll of toilet paper flies over my bathroom stall and I barely catch it before it falls onto the filthy floor. What in the world is wrong with these people?” Why did my friend Joan like this girl? She was just awful.

After I finish using the bathroom, I left the stall and I can’t find Dolores. She wasn’t in the bathroom anymore. I go outside and call out, “Dolores, where are you? She calls out, “I’m over here.”

I look in the direction that her voice came from. And I find her talking to another young girl about our age. I say, “hello.”

Dolores says, “this is my friend Joan’s friend. Joan couldn’t come, so I brought her with me instead.”

“Yeah, aren’t I the lucky one”, I said. Can we go back to the camp I’m getting hungry I didn’t have any lunch. Dolores rolls her eyes at her camping friend. And said, “yeah, I guess so.”

Dolores’ Dad had set up the campfire and he put the sleeping bags in the tent. It was really going to be close quarters. But it was only going to be one night because I decided that tomorrow, I’m going to tell them my ear is killing me and I feel sick. And they’re going to have to take me home first thing in the morning.

We have hotdogs and corn on the cob for dinner. Which is good as I love both hotdogs and corn on the cob. I say, “thank you, that was good. I was really hungry.” They both look at me like I’m talking another language or something.

I wonder what we were going to do the rest of the night. I have a feeling it was going to be a really long night. I never slept outside on the ground. And I‘m sure I‘m going to have trouble sleeping. I hope I won’t have to go to the bathroom again. I decide I’ll just go to the bathroom behind a tree or something before I went wandering around in the woods.

It turns out that all the campers are going to meet in a central location and tell ghost stories and sing songs. I enjoy singing songs. But some of the stories are really scary and I know I’m really going to have a hard time falling asleep. Or I‘ll have terrible nightmares about being murdered in my sleep.

After everyone starts returning to their own campsite, we’re about to go back to ours when Dolores says, ‘I’ll be back to the camp in a few minutes I want to talk to my friend Marla, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

So, then I had to walk with Dolores’ father to the campsite by myself and he still hasn’t talked to me at all. I’m beginning to get that creepy feeling about him again. About a half-hour later Dolores came back to our campsite and whispers to her father. I can’t hear what she’s saying. But then she grabs her sleeping bag and leaves the campsite. “Where is Dolores going?” I scream at the top of my lungs.

Her father looks at me as if he just realized I was there. “Oh, she says she’s going to sleep in her friend Marla’s tent tonight. She’ll see us in the morning.”

“What? She isn’t going to be sleeping here tonight? But she asked me to go camping with her. And now she isn’t even going to stay here in this tent. And I have to sleep here in the tent with just you????”

“Yes, it’s not a problem I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind? But I do, and I know my parents wouldn’t like it at all.”

He doesn’t say anything more after that. But I was so worn out by the whole ordeal, that I just push my sleeping bag as far away from him as possible. And pull the sleeping bag up over my head and zip it shut as far as I can. And I promise myself that I will scream bloody murder if he comes anywhere near me.

Somehow, I manage to go to sleep, about halfway through the night I had to go to the bathroom so I sneak out of the tent and pee on the nearest tree. I crawl back into the tent and into my sleeping bag and zip it all the way up again.

I can’t fall asleep again, so I lay awake and listen to the crickets and mosquitoes all night. And as soon as it gets lite out, I wake Dolores’ father up and say, “I’m sick and I have to go home. I have a terrible earache and I feel sick. You have to take me home right now. Or, I’ll have to call my father and tell him he will have to come all the way here and pick me up. And he won’t like that because he works at night and he’ll have to go to work without getting any sleep.

He groans, and says, “ok, od let me tell Dolores that I’ll be back in a couple of hours. And then we’ll go. I knew this was a bad idea bringing some kid I didn’t know camping.”

If looks could kill he would have been dead where he stood. But he didn’t die, but he did take me home and never said a word the whole way. He drops me off in front of my house. I grab my bag and head into my house.

My mother is standing at the stove cleaning up the breakfast dishes. She’s startled when I walk in. “What happened are you alright? How come you’re back already?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but for now let’s just say it turns out I’m not much of a camper and leave it at that. And if Joanie calls any time in the next couple of days. Tell her I can’t come to the phone. Needless to say, that was my one and only camping experience for many years to come.

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Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold

I’ve been dating my boyfriend Gregory since I was in the ninth grade. I just graduated from Temple University. The sad truth is that Gregory and I no longer have anything in common.

When I first met Gregory, I thought he was the most handsome boy I ever met. He was outgoing and funny. Wherever Gregory was in the room, there was sure to be a crowd of people around him laughing. Every girl I knew envied me, and wanted Gregory for themselves. Gregory ignored them all. He was loyal to me and didn’t even look at all the girls that tried to seduce him away from me. He was the smartest person I ever met. And not only that he was a star quarterback throughout high school. He received a full-ride scholarship to Vanderbilt University.

Everything comes easily to Gregory. I have to admit he’s a gifted person. In fact, no matter how hard I examined him I can’t find a single fault. So, therein lies the problem. Gregory is too perfect. He excels at everything with very little effort. Everyone loves him, and admires him. Wants to be him. 

I know I should consider myself lucky to have Gregory and in the beginning, I did. But over time, I noticed that there was a subtle shift in my feelings for and about Gregory.

I began to resent that Gregory was always in the limelight, always the center of attention, always the STAR. I knew I needed to break up with him before I began to loathe him. He hadn’t done anything to deserve my hate. He was the perfect boyfriend. I know he was going to ask me to marry him after he decided which professional football team, to sign a contract with.

I didn’t want to be known as so and so’s wife. Always on the sidelines, the devoted spouse. Yes, yes, I know. All I had to do is be a loving and faithful wife, and everything I ever dreamed of having would be mine. I would have a gorgeous home, designer clothing, an expensive car, and be able to travel all over the world if that is what I wanted to do.

I’ve tried to talk to Gregory about how I felt, that I had dreams and goals of my own. He would say, sure, sure Babe, whatever you want, and off he would go. After months of delaying the decision to leave Gregory, I finally took the final step and broke up with him.

I admit the timing wasn’t perfect. In fact, I chose the worse time to do it. The afternoon before dinner Gregory’s friends were throwing him a victory party for getting a contract with the New England Patriots.

We were having lunch on the patio of our house. It was such a beautiful day. Early that morning there had been a Spring shower, and the sun had just shown its face and raindrops on the grass were glistening like diamonds in the sand. I had been struggling for weeks trying to decide the best way to tell Gregory about my decision.

I decided the most painless method was to just tell him all at once. Quick and painless I thought. I’ve been trying to tell him in a million different ways over the past year. And he kept blowing me off. If Gregory doesn’t want to hear something, he just refuses to hear it.

I had already packed up all my earthly belongings, the ones that matter anyway, and had them in the trunk of my car. Gregory hadn’t even noticed. I left all the expensive jewelry he had ever given me on my dresser. Jewelry was never important to me. I had told him time, and again I didn’t need it, didn’t want it. He just never heard me.

I was taking the last bite of my gourmet lunch. Oh, I forgot to mention that Gregory is a gourmet cook. On this particular day, Gregory had outdone himself. He had made a chilled Wild Pacific Confit Salmon with a Harissa Sauce, Quinoa & Arugula Salad, and fresh pears with Honey-Sea Salt Cornbread with Local Spiced Apple Butter. As I reflected on this lunch, I considered it my last meal with Gregory. And I have to admit I enjoyed that meal. It was delicious, and I would miss his cooking. It marked the end of an era in my life.

“Gregory, I have something to tell you.”

“Christine, please don’t spoil this day. You know I have been looking forward to this for a long time. And every time you preface a conversation with, “I have something to tell you.” I know I’m not going to like it. Can you just spare me the drama today? Let’s just have a nice day, can’t we?”

“I’m sorry Gregory. I’ve tried to tell you how I’ve been feeling many, many times. You just refuse to listen to me. So no, it can’t wait. I’m leaving you, Gregory. Today. This is our last meal together. I’m unhappy. I don’t want to be a cheerleader for you anymore. I care about you, I admire your intelligence, creativity, and ambition. But I have the desire to succeed and grow too. And there just doesn’t seem to be enough space in your life for me to do that.”

“What are you talking about? I never tried to stop you from anything you wanted to do, Christine.”

“Yes, you have Gregory. It’s not blatant. You didn’t say, No, I forbid you to do this or that. But you did discourage me from going back to get my Master’s degree. Because it was inconvenient timing. When I wanted to go to Europe for six months after I graduated. You said maybe later.”

“I never said no, I just said later, Christine.”

“Gregory, later never comes. I have all my belongings packed, I’ve rented a small apartment off-campus, I got a part-time job, and I’m going to get my Masters and my Ph.D. I don’t need your help. I’m sorry I’ll be missing your big dinner, but I’m sure you’ll have all the attention from your groupies that will more than make up for me not cheering you on. Although Gregory, I do wish you all the success in the world. Take care, Gregory. I’m going to be leaving now.”

And that’s when I noticed the expression on Gregory’s face changed from annoyance to anger. I never saw that expression on his face before. I hardly recognize him. He didn’t say another word to me. He just stared at me with what I can only say looked like hatred. I think it was the first time Gregory didn’t get what he wanted.

I moved into my apartment. I think it is what people called an efficiency apartment. In that, it was really just one big room with a tiny kitchen, a living room space, and an area next to the kitchen where I put my bed and bedside table. And there was a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. There was only one small closet. So, I had to leave most of my out-of-season clothing in storage. But it was mine, all mine. No one to tell where everything should be and what looked right and what didn’t. I loved every inch of that apartment because it was mine.

For the first several days, I didn’t hear from Gregory. Nothing. Nothing at all. I thought good, he is going to act like a grown man this time. He is just accepting that things have changed and moved on with his life, no drama, no theatrics.

But then, little things started happening. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I just thought, “well, that’s weird.” And then I forgot about it. I received several hang-up calls on my cell phone. But I didn’t recognize the phone number. But that happens to everyone at one time or another, hang-ups.

Then about two weeks later, I started having accidents. I was going down the two flights of steps from my apartment to the street, and the steps were oddly slippery. The first time I fell down about six steps before I was able to grab the banister and stop myself from falling down all the way. I got up and quickly looked around because I thought someone might have seen me fall.

And then the next time I fell, it was because the banister came off in my hands when I went to grab it after I slipped on the steps. Not only did I fall down the flight of steps, but I nearly clobbered myself in the head when I made a grab for the banister and nearly hit myself in the head. After I managed to get myself up off the floor and dust myself off, I examined the banister it had been neatly sawed in two places and then put back in place. It was deliberate.

I called up the manager of the apartment building, and he apologizes and said he has no idea how such a thing could happen, but he’ll send the maintenance guy over to repair it today. And when I arrive home later that day, it had been replaced. The next couple of weeks flew by without any unexpected occurrences. So, I just put it down to bad luck and forgot about it.

I was working part-time in a restaurant that Gregory and I used to frequent. I was lucky to get a job here because it was a high-end place, and the tips were generous. And then, one night, as I was clearing one of the tables in my section, I noticed that Gregory had just come into the restaurant with a young woman that was so beautiful that even I could not take my eyes off of her. She was well over six feet tall and had long blond hair down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a dress that barely covered her ass. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and the front neckline was so low you could almost see her belly button.

I said a little prayer that they wouldn’t sit in my section. But, unfortunately, they did. After they were seated, I walk towards their table with menus and plastered a smile on my face. I walk slowly over to their table. I hand them their menus, smiled at them, and said,” good evening, hello, Gregory. So nice to see you. Can I get you a beverage or a drink while you look at the menus?”

“Hello, Christine, so nice to see you. So, this is the dream job?”

“No, this is a job that pays the rent while I finish my Master’s. Are you ready to give me your order, or would you like some time to study the menus for a bit?” I look at him and wish I could smack the smirk off his face. I just smile. His date doesn’t react at all. She obviously doesn’t know who I was and why he brought her to this particular restaurant.

After they finish their dinner, I walk over to their table. Would you like to look at the dessert menu or have a refill on your coffees? Gregory said, “what would you like to recommend?”

“Well, the lemon cake is delicious. I know you would enjoy that. And there’s a Raspberry-lemon mouse that is to die for.”

“Camella, what would you like?”

“Oh, I don’t know; they both sound delicious. I’ll get whatever you are getting, Gregory.”

“Gregory looks up at Christine and says, “you heard her. We’ll have Lemon cake. It has always been my favorite. And two coffees too. That will be all.”

Christine put on her biggest smile and says, “I’ll be back in a few moments.”  And then she turns and walks away. There is no way she is going to let Gregory think he has the ability to upset her or make her jealous. She just doesn’t care one way or the other how he felt.

After Christine delivers the desserts, she says, “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that will be all.” And he looks away from Christine and starts talking rapidly. His date’s eyes open wide with a surprised look on her face.

When Christine looks at the table, they had left. She finds a $5.00 tip on it. She picks it up and stuffs it in her apron pocket. Wow, he was really being a jerk.

About three weeks later, she receives a phone message. It sounds like an older man’s voice, and it seems familiar. “Good Morning. This is Dean Sheridan at Temple MS program of Science and Technology. I am trying to contact Christine Brown. Could you please call my office asap?”

Christine picks up the phone and looks at the phone number, and sees it was the Dean’s office. She calls him back and listens while the phone rings four times. She was about to hang up when finally, a male voice said,” Hello, this is Dean Sheridan. Can I help you?”

“Hello, Dean Sheridan. This is Christine Brown here, returning your call. What can I do for you?”

“Ms. Brown, I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. The benefactor that was providing the funding for the opening of the Master’s Program has pulled his funding. I’m so sorry. This happens sometimes. I’ve been trying to find contributions from some of our more generous alumni. But so far, no luck. I’m going to keep trying. However, I suggest you start applying to other universities asap, just in case. I’ll hand your call over to my assistant, and she will give you their contact information. Again, I’m so sorry to disappoint you. You would have been a great asset to our program. If you are able to secure funding somehow, please inform me. “

Christine felt crushed. She had worked so hard to get this far, and she couldn’t believe the rug was being pulled out from under her this late in the game. The classes were supposed to start in three weeks. It was too late to apply to other programs. She realizes she will have to start applying all over for next semester and seek scholarships or grants. There was no way she could afford it on a waitress’s pay. Maybe she could get a second job and save enough money to reapply next year. She feels a tear run down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away. There is no way she’s going to start feeling sorry for herself. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, and she has a long road to travel before she reaches her goal.

About six months later, Christine receives a letter informing her that her building had been sold and she has to seek new housing and vacate her apartment by the end of the month. Christine just couldn’t believe the bad luck that had come her way in the last six months. It was so expensive to move and time-consuming. And she has to find another apartment that’s affordable. Which is no easy task. She calls all her friends to see if they know of any cheap apartments in the area. The last person she calls is her old friend, Sheila.

“Hello, Sheila, this is Christine. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while, but I’ve been working 24/7, trying to save money for my MS classes. First, I lost my scholarship and grants and my place in Temple’s MS program. And today, I received a letter stating that I had three weeks to move out of my apartment. My building is being sold.  Anyway, I was wondering if you know of any cheaper apartments or even anyone looking for a roommate near Temple University? Oh, and how are you, my bad,”

“Hello Christine, yeah, I did hear through the grapevine that you really had a bad string of bad luck, I should have called, but you know how life gets in the way. No, I don’t know anyone, or any place for that matter. But why don’t you contact Gregory? His father owns a lot of residential property in the Temple University area near Broad Street. In fact, doesn’t he own the apartment building where your studio apartment is located?”

“What, I didn’t know that? Gregory never mentioned it. Oh, I knew they were wealthy. But I never really asked about where their money came from. It just didn’t interest me. I’ll have to look into that. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you know what happens. So, what have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, same old, same old. I’m finishing up my dissertation. And after that, I’m taking a sabbatical and going to do some traveling before I start teaching. That is if all goes well with my dissertation.”

“Really, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked to get this far. You deserve every success.”

“Thank you, girlfriend. It’s been a long hard road, but I’m near the end. Please let me know if you find an apartment. You know you can count on me to help you move.”

After Christine hangs up, she starts thinking about the string of bad luck she had experienced in the last several months. And a lightbulb goes off in her head. It all started when she broke up with Gregory. And now she finds out that Gregory’s father owns the building she lives in. She decides to go to the library and find out if it was true that Gregory’s father owned her building. She didn’t want to believe that Gregory would be so mean-spirited as to cause her to become homeless.

After several hours of researching properties, she’s told by the librarian the best thing she can do is go to the county seat and look at their records to find out just who owned the apartment complex she lives in. And with the clerk’s help, she’s able to find out that it is Gregory’s father, Stewart Landers, does indeed own that building and several others in the Temple University area. Most of these are occupied by poor students who eke out a living as waiters and waitresses or nannies for rich people in the Society Hill area of Philadelphia.

Christine contacts Gregory’s father’s office and asks to speak to him. She identifies herself as a family friend. When He comes on the line, she says, “Hello, Mr. Landers. This is Christine Brown. I used to date your son, Gregory.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Brown. Gregory was brokenhearted when you broke up with him. We were all fond of you. And we hoped you and Gregory would marry. Mr. Landers, I’m sorry I hurt Gregory, but I wasn’t ready to get married. I wanted to finish school and get my MS. And then possibly go on to get my doctorate. And then I want to teach. I tried to tell you this to Gregory for a long time. But he didn’t want to hear about it.”

“Well, these things happen, and it looks like Gregory has moved on. He has been dating a beautiful young lady who just graduated at the top of her class from Sarah Lawrence. Perhaps a better fit than you two. No offense. So, what can I do for you? What’s this all about?

“I was just informed by my landlord that my building was being sold, and I had to move out.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But what has that got to do with my family and me?”

“You own the building.”
“I do? Where is it?

“It is in downtown Philadelphia in the Temple University area. A great many students live there. I’m one of them, and I was just notified that I had to move out. It’s the Edge Student Village.”

“Oh, yes, that’s one of my buildings. I gave that building to Gregory as an investment for his future. He didn’t tell me he was going to sell it. I will contact him and see what I can do about this situation. Of course, if he already sold it, there isn’t much I can do about it. Of course, I could probably find other housing for you. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I would appreciate that, and I’m really in a desperate situation I’m living day to day. I can’t really afford to move again so soon.”

Two days later, Gregory’s father calls Christine back and says, I talked to Gregory, and he said he hadn’t filed the final papers. He knew that was your building, and he wanted you to feel helpless. He thought you might come back to him if you had no place to go. I guess he is still in love with you.”

“Mr. Landers, if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hurt me. He would want the best for me. He just wants to control me, and that is something I could never live with. I want Gregory to be happy, but I don’t think that, ultimately, we would have been happy together. We want completely different things in life.”

“Yes, I can see that. He is still a very young man and has a lot to learn about life yet. I’m sorry, he told me how angry he was at you and some other things he had done to get your attention. And for all of that, I apologize. Your building is not going to be sold. You can stay there until you are finished with your education. I hope you will forgive him and move on with your life. I have warned him to do the same.”

“Thank you so much for your help.”

“Good luck, young lady.”

Christine hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief. She fixes herself a cup of coffee and sits and down, and takes a deep breath. And at just that moment, the doorbell rings. Christine goes to the door and looks through the peephole, and sees an eye looking back at her. “Who’s there”

“I have a delivery for Christine Brown.”

Christine opens the door. And a young man stands there with a huge bouquet of long-stemmed yellow roses, her favorite. “Oh no”, she says.

She hands a dollar to the delivery man and takes the flowers. Inside there is a note that says, “All is forgiven. I’ll be over at 7:30 PM to take you out to eat at our favorite restaurant. Eternal love, Gregory.”

“Oh no, this is going to be much harder than I thought”,  she says out loud. And then she closes the door and locks the two locks and the chain.

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TOMORROW

When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me every day that tomorrow may never come, enjoy today. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I was afraid to ask? Perhaps she knew something that I didn’t know. Did I have some sort of terminal illness that I didn’t know about? Can she see into the future, and knows I’m going to die in some sort of horrible accident? I was a shy and nervous child.

Little girl eating ice cream -Pixelbay by Lucas

I ‘m preoccupied with worrying about what terrible event might take place tomorrow. I’m easily startled. If someone comes up behind me and says boo, I ‘ll jump and shake and then scream at the top of my lungs. After the kids at school found out how I was easily startled, they would sneak up behind me at least once a day and yell boo. And then all of my classmates would all start laughing. After a while, I didn’t want to go to school anymore.

My mother made me go to school. She comes into my bedroom and kneels down next to my bed and whispers, “Darlene, it’s time to wake up for school. You don’t want to be late, do you? If I don’t wake up right away, she starts tapping my shoulder, “Darlene, Darlene, wake up, wake up.” You’re going to be late.” Her final attempt, she yells as loud as she can,” DARLENE, GET UP, NOW.”

I jump out of bed, and then she whispers, “Enjoy your day, Darlene, tomorrow may never come.”

I started having difficulty sleeping because I don’t want my mother to come into my room and waking me up. I’m so tired of not sleeping. I have an even more difficult time waking up. And when I do wake up, I worry about what’s going to happen to me. It’s all I can think about. Will I get hit by a car, run over by a bus, trampled by the boy’s football team if I didn’t get off the field fast enough, or choke to death on a hotdog. The possibilities are endless.

I’m failing all my classes in school. I’m so exhausted from not sleeping at night that I fall asleep at my desk. My teacher sends me to the school nurse several times a week. She’s a kind woman. She lets me lie down on the cot in her office, and says, “Darlene, can you tell me what’s going on at home? Is someone hurting you?”

“No, Mrs. Pritchett no one is hurting me. I have trouble falling asleep. Sometimes, I fall asleep but I can’t stay asleep. Sometimes, when I do fall asleep, I have terrible nightmares. I wake up crying, and then I don’t want to go to sleep because of the nightmares. “

“What does your mother say about this problem?”

“She tells me to take a hot bath before I go to sleep. She thinks that might help me relax. But sometimes I fall asleep in the tub. One time I woke up and my head was under the water. Then I was afraid that I would drown in the tub, and I told my mother, “I only want to take showers from now on.”

She said, “Oh, Darlene, that’s silly. You’re not going to drown in the tub. But if it will make you feel better you can just take a shower.”

“Darlene, did your mother take you to the doctors for a check-up?”

“Yes, she took me to Dr. Hartman. He took my temperature, and weighed me, and listen to my heart. He said, “everything seems fine. Do you have any pain anywhere?”

I said, “No, I don’t have any pain. I can’t fall asleep, that’s all.”

He gave my mother a paper that said I should start taking vitamins since I was a little underweight. And he wants me to start eating better. Then he went into the other room with my mother and talked to her alone.

When my mother and I left she said, “Darlene, why don’t we stop at Friendly’s and get some ice cream we haven’t done anything fun for a long time. Would you like that?”

“Sure Mom. But I’m not that hungry.”

“Oh, come on, Darlene live a little, you only live once. Let’s enjoy today, tomorrow may never come.”

“After she said that, I lost my appetite. I thought the doctor might have told her some bad news. Then we went to the ice cream parlor. My mother got a root beer float with vanilla ice cream and all the toppings. I wasn’t hungry anymore, but my mother insisted on me at least eating a scoop. She said,” come on live it up, Darlene, how about some chocolate too or whipped cream on top.”

“Ok, Mom.” As we sit there eating, I look at my mother. And sure, enough she’s eating like there’s no tomorrow. Really shoving it in fast. I keep staring at her. Finally, she says, “Darlene, it’s  impolite to stare at someone who eating.”

“Oh, sorry mom. Can I ask you a question?”

“A question, of course, you can ask me anything.”

“Did the doctor say I was sick or if anything is wrong with me?”

“Wrong with you? No, he said physically, you are fine. He thinks you are a little high strung that’s all. And you need to eat better and get more sleep.”

“High Strung? What does that mean?”

“Oh, it just means you seem nervous, that’s all. I told him that it was ridiculous that you are a normal kid who has trouble sleeping. He seems to think that having trouble sleeping indicates that something is bothering you.”

My mother looks at me for a moment after she says, “Darlene, is something bothering you? You can tell me anything. You know that, don’t you?

I don’t know if I can tell my mother why I can’t sleep or about how the kids tortured me in school. And I’m really afraid of what she might say. Am I going to die suddenly? Is something terrible going to happen today or tomorrow?”

After we left the ice cream parlor, my mother said, “how about if this Saturday, we do something fun? Is there anything that you would like to do, Darlene?”

“Fun, like what Mom?”

“What would you like to do, Darlene? We could go to the movies or the petting zoo, or we could ride bikes around the park, what do you say? Do you have anything you would like to do, Darlene, anything at all?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess it would be fun to go out to lunch and then go to the movies on Saturday afternoon. You haven’t taken me to the movies since I was a little kid. I would really love to see the Dark Knight Trilogy. I hear the kids at school talking about it all the time. It just came into the theaters about a week ago. And we could get popcorn and candy and sodas. I would   really love to do that.”

“Well, Superheroes are not really my thing. But who knows, maybe I’ll enjoy it? But maybe you would rather see that with your friends?”

Darlene stares at her mother and wonders how she could be so clueless about her. “Mom, do you know any of my friends? Did anyone ever come over to play or just spend time with me? “

“Well, Darlene, I can’t say when I remember the last time you had some of your friends over. Why don’t you ask them to come over?”

Darlene looks at her mother with her mouth open, nothing comes out. She starts feeling extremely angry at her mother. She doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. Her mother stands there and stares at her. Suddenly, Darlene yells out as loud as she can, “Why, why don’t I ask my friends over. Because Mother, I don’t have any friends. And I never have. Why didn’t you ever ask me before where all my friends were? The kids at school hate me. They think I’m weird. The teachers hate me too. Everyone hates me. Because I’m weird. You hardly even talk to me, and you’re my mother.”

“Of course, you have friends Darlene. Why are you always so overdramatic?”

“No, no, no. I don’t have friends, no one at school likes me.”

“Why do they think you’re weird?”

“Because I am weird. I’m afraid of everything. I’m afraid I might get a horrible illness, like cancer, and die. I’m afraid of crossing the street. I could get hit by a Mack Truck. I’m afraid I will live my whole life, and nobody will love me or even like me. And you know why mother, do you know why?”

Darlene’s mother looks at her and says,” No, I don’t where do you get all these crazy ideas anyway. It’s nonsense. And Darlene, I do love you with my whole heart. I want nothing but the best for you.”

“Mom, you never tell me you love me. You never tell me how smart I am, or how pretty or how kind. The only thing you say to me every day when I get up is, enjoy your day, Darlene, tomorrow may never come.”

“Oh, Darlene, I say that because I want you to make the most of every day of your life. I never had any idea that might make you think you were going to die, or that something horrible was going to happen to you. I’m so sorry I don’t tell you I love you, or that your pretty and smart. Because I do love you with my whole heart. I want nothing but good things in life to come your way. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how sad and lonely you are. But I’m happy that you were finally able to tell me how you feel. How about we start with a little hug.” Darlene’s mother puts her arms out for Darlene.

Darlene hesitates momentarily and then steps into her mother’s arms for the first hug she has had in years. Tears start rolling down her face. And then she realizes that her mother is crying too. And they hug one another. “I love you too, Mom.”

They stay like that for a long time. And then Darlene’s mother says,” How about we start every day and end every day with a hug, Darlene?”

“Yes, Mom, I would love that. And then you can just say,” Good Morning, or Good Night.”

“Ok Mom, let’s go home now, I’m tired maybe I could take a little nap. And dream bout going to the movies tomorrow.”

“Ok, Darlene why don’t we head out. This is the best day I’ve had in a long time; I love you, Darlene, with all my heart.”

Darlene looks at her mom, and says,” I love you too mom, let’s go home now.” And the two of then set off on their walk home hand in hand.

__________________________________

RAIN THEN TEARS

I barely make it on time to the Greyhound Depot to catch my bus. It starts to rain about five blocks from the depot. I‘m thoroughly soaked through by the time I arrive there. My hair is dripping wet, and rain has somehow found its way inside my jacket.  I run towards the bus depot; my backpack is bouncing up and down on my back like a snare drum. The bouncing has the added effect of inducing a migraine headache. I step onto the bus and hand the bus driver my ticket. “Oh, sorry, I’m sorry. I got a late start. “

Greyhound Bus-Peter Wolf-Pixabay

I take one look at the bus, and I see it is packed to the gills. “Shit, shit, shit,”  I look at the driver and shrug my shoulders. “There aren’t any seats left; I purchased this ticket two weeks ago.”

“Yes, mam, there is. It’s in the second to last row on your left, next to the window.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I see it. Thanks.”

I make my way halfway down the center aisle and trip over some guy’s foot that’s sticking out. He all but shouts at me, “Hey lady, lookout, are you blind or what?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see it sticking out. I didn’t expect someone to have their foot sticking out in the aisle so they could trip someone. And I give him one of my biggest smiles and flutter my lashes at him. And walk on. I mutter under my breath, “asshole.”

I notice as I cruise down the center aisle that all the other passengers have their heads down for some reason. Huh, I think what’s this all about? I try and catch someone’s attention, but no one looks my way. Then I think, oh maybe they’re all mad because I was late. Oh well, nothing I can do about that now.

I finally make it down the gauntlet of sad, distracted faces to my empty seat. I hear a weird noise. First, there is a sniffing sound. I think someone has a cold. And then I realize it’s the person in the seat next to mine. Great, now I’m going to catch a cold for crying out loud. I look at her. Tears are streaming down her flushed cheeks. I hear three loud sniffs, and then the crying starts and steadily increases until she is full-out sobbing. I take a step back. I look from left to right. I see no other course of action, no place else to go. I look at the people on the right and the left. Then I do an about-face and look at the passengers in the middle and the front.

About half of them have plugged in their headphones and have their heads down. The rest are staring out the windows. Probably wish they were anywhere but here on this stupid bus ride to hell. I turn back around and look at my seat.

“Excuse me,” I say to the crying young woman. “But this is my seat next to you. Could you move over so I can sit down?”

She slowly raises the armrest and blows her nose a couple of times on a tissue she has tucked up her sweater sleeve. I hear a honk, honk. I think, dear god, what is that noise? Then, I realize it’s the young woman blowing her nose. She slowly gets up, and I mean slowly, and moves over to the window seat. She doesn’t say a word, nada, anything at all. She just slides over and continues crying, with her head hanging low. Her chin is almost resting on her chest.

I pull off my backpack and unsnap one of the side pockets and pull out my headphones. I put my pack on the rack above my head with some difficulty.  I’m not the tallest person in the world, and I have short arms to boot. I finally shove it in and plop down in my seat. It’s only 7:55 am, and I’m exhausted. And there’s a thirteen-hour and fifteen-minute bus trip ahead of me. Oh well, I, think I’ll just take a nap, and that way I can get some rest and kill some time.

And that’s when I realize that I don’t have my migraine medicine with me. And I know that this is going to be the most interminable trip of my life. It was a mistake flopping down in my seat, too, as that has made my migraine pain even worse. I start to feel nauseous. My head is pounding as if it might explode. I begin worrying about how often they clean the bathroom on these Greyhound buses.

Somehow, I manage to fall asleep over the road noises and over the sobbing of my bus companion. As I’m about to drift off, I think, what in the world has happened to this girl to make her cry like this, non-stop and within hearing distance of everyone on the bus? And also, why am I so unlucky? Why did I end up sitting next to this weeping young woman? And then I realize it was my fault for being late leaving and being the last person to get on the bus. And that’s all I remember until I woke up about an hour later.

As I started to wake up, I hear a weird noise. I don’t immediately remember where I am. And then I hear a honking. Honk, honk, honk. It’s my seat companion. Blowing her nose once again. Dear god, is she still crying, I think?  I look over at her. Her eyes are so swollen from crying.   I can hardly see her eyes. Her nose is red. She starts pressing her fisted hands on her eyes and rubbing them back and forth. I stare at her. She seems to have forgotten that I’m sitting next to her. I try and decide what the best course of action is. Short of throwing myself out the window. Or at the very least, getting on a different bus at our first rest stop.

I stare at her red and puffy eyes and think. What would I want someone to do if the circumstances were reversed, and I was the one who couldn’t stop crying? Would I prefer people just ignored me or someone asks me if I’m alright?

“Excuse me; my name is Marilyn Carter. I know it’s none of my business, but you seem so upset. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She looks over at me with a surprised expression on her face that says, where did you come from? She is still sniffling, and tears are running down her cheeks, but she isn’t sobbing anymore. I see her gulp. And then she clears her throat. “Oh, I didn’t even notice you were sitting there. And the short answer is no; I’m not alright. Four days ago, I was laid off from my job. Well, they called it a layoff]. But I won’t be called back. I loved that job. It was the first job I had where I felt I was making a real difference. I moved away from Raleigh to take the job. A place where I had spent my whole life. All my friends live there, and so does my family.”

As she mentions family, she starts crying again. I wait for her to continue. “And that morning before I got to work, I got a call from my father. He told me that my mother had a heart attack, and passed away. So, today I’m going home for the funeral. And while I’m there, I’m going to decide if I should go back to Philadelphia and look for another job there. Or if I should just go and pack up all my stuff in my apartment in Philly and move back to Raleigh and try to find a job there.”

“What did you say your name was, dear?”

“My name? Oh, of course, I’m sorry. I told you my whole life story, and you don’t even know who I am. My name is Candace Mickleton. I’m not in the habit of crying in public. I know this sounds dramatic, but I feel like my heart is broken. It hurts to keep breathing. Just the very act of breathing is painful. I love my mother so much. I called her every day. She always believed in me even when I struggled for so long, trying to find out what I wanted to do in my life. She was always there for me, telling me she knew I will be successful and not to ever lose faith in myself. And then to lose my job so unexpectedly. It’s too much. I don’t feel like I can go on. I can’t think of a reason why I should go on.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I call you by your first name Candace. Please call me, Marilyn.”

“First, please let me say how sorry I am about your mother passing away. I remember when my mother died and how her loss made me feel broken, empty. I couldn’t imagine going the rest of my life without seeing her. Every day for weeks, the first thing I thought about was my mother and how I would never see her again or hear her voice, how I would never hear her tell me how proud she was of me. And how much she loved me.”

“Over time during the day, I started thinking about how my mother would not have wanted me to feel this bereft because of her. She only wanted the best for me. And whenever I started feeling bad, I thought about how lucky I was to have such a wonderful mother. And I started to do things that made me feel happy; I concentrated on all the good things I had in my life. I moved forward in my life instead of being stuck in that moment of loss. I decided that from that moment forward, I would be happy and successful in my life because that is what my mother would have wanted for me.”

“As for losing your job well, that was bad timing. Perhaps you need this time to heal from your mother’s loss. Take the time to recover and consider what you want your future to be. You said that your job was the first job you loved and were doing well. You could use that experience as a springboard to something even better. While you are in Raleigh, you’ll have the opportunity to talk to all your old friends and relatives. And who knows one of them might be aware of an opportunity in the Raleigh-Durham area. That you aren’t aware since, as you said, you haven’t lived here in quite a while.”

Candace gradually stops crying as she listens to Marilyn. And she realizes she’s right. Her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to stop living her life. She would want her to move forward into her future with her optimism. “Thank you, Marylyn, that is what I needed to hear. I feel like I can breathe again. My mother would want me to go on with my life and be happy and successful. I don’t know what I’m going to do about finding a job. But I will talk to my family and get their advice. I love living in Philadelphia. I have made so many friends there. And there is always something going on downtown. On the other hand, I don’t like the idea of my father living alone. “

“Candace, why don’t you give it a few days and then talk to your father? He is probably in shock right now. You might find that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And wouldn’t want you to give up your life in the North East. Since he knows how happy you are there.”

“Thanks again Marilyn I’m so lucky that you were late getting to the bus station. And that you ended up sitting next to me.”

“Thanks, Candace, life has a way of bringing the right people into our lives when we need them. I think I’m going to take another little nap now. But if you like it at the rest stop what say I buy you a nice lunch. I know I didn’t take time to eat breakfast, and you probably didn’t, either.” And with that, Marilyn’s eyes close, and she falls fast asleep and begins snoring loudly.

Candace looks at Marilyn and smiles. And closes her own eyes and falls fast asleep as well.

Corona Virus- May 16th,2020

Corona Virus-May 16th, 2020

This week has brought equal parts of both good and bad. Reminders that life’s challenges help me to become a stronger person. This week I have observed that the Magnolia trees are in full bloom. I so look forward to seeing those majestic flowers every year. And it’s a reminder that life goes on despite what is happening now.
I look forward to the magnificent Crepe Myrtles blooming in a couple of months. We must allow ourselves these moments to enjoy the good things in life that are all around us.

Magnolia Flower- Photo by Bob Culver

One of the animals that I came to love at Animal Edventure met an untimely death. I will so miss her each day when I go there. She was the first one who greeted me, And I pet her from the top of her head to the end of her tail. I would bring her into the main building and feed her and give her something to drink. Such a beautiful animal. Such a short life.

I have faced many difficult times in my life. I believe I faced these times head-on. I look at each challenge and think about what will make this situation better or a least less painful. What can I do?

In 1985 my parents, who were then in their mid-seventies, became ill. My father developed lung cancer, he already had emphysema. He was a heavy smoker his whole life. My mother’s personality and behavior changed drastically. My mother was blind from glaucoma. She lost her vision slowly over time. She didn’t tell anyone what was happening. Her loss of vision affected her profoundly and she became frightened and paranoid. Perhaps it was dementia or as my brother who was a psychologist thought a psychosis. There aren’t words enough to explain how devastatingly painful to see my loving and caring mother change before my eyes to someone I didn’t recognize. I miss her still to this day. Not the person she became at the end of her life but the loving and devoted mother I knew for my whole life up until that time.

My children were only two and five at the time, and I was a stay at home mother for several years. And so, I was able to spend a great deal of time with my parents. My father gave me the power of attorney. I took over their finances and paid their bills and made medical decisions for them. When the time came, I bought their burial plots and their caskets, headstones, and flowers.

Lung cancer is an unforgiving disease and it progressed rapidly. By the time my father shared his symptoms with me, he had large inoperable lesions in his esophagus and right lung. At that time, there was no treatment for him, as the cancer was too advanced. My mother’s mental health deteriorated over this time. I have to admit I have never felt as low at any time in my life as I did during their illness and after their death. My entire family, which was a large one, stepped up to help take care of my parents. It was a sad time for us all.

After my father passed, it was apparent that my mother wouldn’t be able to live by herself. And I hired a woman whose name was Doris Cook to come in and stay with my mother during the week. My siblings and I took turns having my mother stay at our homes on the weekends. It was painful seeing my dear mother’s sweet and loving personality disappear day by day. She passed eight months after my father.

I know every member of my family felt this loss deeply. As for myself, I woke up every day and felt that loss and waves of sorrow would wash over me. Until I felt I was drowning in it. I thought I’m an orphan now, I have no parents. It took a long, long time for me to overcome this sadness. And still, to this day, I feel a deep emptiness when I realize that I will never see my parents again. Despite the fact that it has been over thirty years.

I have realized that loss is just as big a part of life as is joy and happiness. Loss offers us the opportunity to grow and mature and become a stronger man or woman. If we stand up to those challenges if we face then instead of running away or denying their existence.

Right now, at this moment, at this time, we are all facing the biggest challenges on every front that we never imagined would come our way. Not in our wildest imagination. A pandemic never crossed my mind, not once, not ever. I knew there was a pandemic in 1918 when my parents were young. But I certainly never thought it would happen in the here and now. In fact, I never thought about it at all. It belonged to the distant past. But here it is. And we are in the middle of it. Not just here in American but every single place big and small across our planet. So far, 308,985 people have died from this disease. Over 80,000 in the United States alone.

By nature, I am a caretaker and a fixer of sorts. In one way or another throughout my life, I have striven to give assistance and care to the people I come in contact with me. If I see a need and I am able to mitigate it in some way, I have. There are so many people now that are not getting their basic needs met with food, shelter, and clothing. I help in my own limited way.

We are all in this together. And if I could just offer this bit of advice please, please wear masks when you are out and about. They are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign that you care about others, including your own family members’ health and well-being. They protect “other people” whose masks protect “you.” Even if you never did anything for anybody your whole life, you can do this small thing NOW. Wear the mask to protect others and they will do the same for you.

We are not able to reliably project when the pandemic will end. It could appear as if it is and then flair up again and more people will die. Or it could become a seasonal disease that returns again and again. We will not become safe again until there is an antiviral available to protect us from this disease. And when this happens, get inoculated. Please. Do the right thing. If you never made a good decision in your life, why not start with this.

As you go about your daily life, try to be kind. I know it is difficult considering all the stress we are all under, not enough money to live on, buy food, pay our bills. People want to go back to work and provide for their families and they can’t yet. We miss spending time with our friends and family. And going out for fun. And a million other little and big things too long a list to mention. But, somehow, sometime in the future those of us who are still here will look back on this time and think, “I’m stronger than I realized. I did the right thing for myself, my community, and the world. I survived this, so I certainly can meet any other challenge that comes my way. Please do the right thing, not just for you but for all of us. We are all in this together.

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Corona Virus- May 9th,2020

 

Susan A. Culver writing- photo by Bob Culver 2020

I noticed this week traveling from my house to Animal Edventure that there has been a definite uptick in the number of cars on the roads. And cars parked at the local bar-be-que place that is located on route 50 just before I get onto route 210. I noticed people were waiting in their cars for take out, but at least half of the vehicles were empty, indicating that they were inside the restaurant eating.  This restaurant delivers the take-out to the cars, this despite the state mandate that no one can eat inside of restaurants yet.

When my husband went to the drugstore to pick up an order, he told me he didn’t see any people wearing masks except the employees. This is concerning since yesterday at 5 o’clock began the first step in three steps to open up NC. And people do not appear to be keeping six feet apart. Few people are wearing masks in the stores in this area. I am afraid of the consequences of this behavior. I can’t understand why they just don’t take these easy steps to keep the infection down. The outcome will be a tremendous increase in the number of people infected and possibly dying. I find this disturbing.

In my little neighborhood of twenty houses, I have observed some changes in our neighbor’s behavior. There is a house across the street where a couple who appear to be in their early forties live with their two teenage daughters. The mother is a math teacher in middle school. Currently, she’s teaching remotely. Since we moved here almost four years ago, I ‘ve observed her running early in the morning before she leaves for work. However, since she’s been home in these past weeks, she has increased her exercise routine, and her young daughters are included. The girls do all sorts of gymnastics, I think,might be related to being cheerleaders. But the Mom is now including weight lifting, including carrying large barbells over her head and briskly walking up and down half the street and then back again to her driveway. For some reason, I’m not sure why I find this comical. I’m fairly certain I would be unable to lift up these barbells of the ground, let alone carry them over my head up and down the street.

The UPS man is making deliveries to almost everyone on the street during the week at some point. I have to say that in some ways, people have adapted quickly to our current way of life.

Some of our neighbors who are out of work right now are doing projects on their homes. Upkeep, they have put off for years. Three families have replaced their mailboxes that were falling over or the mailboxes fell off. Every time I take a walk down the block, I pick up their mail and shove into the back of their mailboxes. Two families had their septic tanks pumped out. I don’t think I can take too much more excitement.

Our next-door neighbor cleaned their front porch of all the things that have accumulated on it. He also began painting his porch railings that had little paint left on them. I thought, oh great; he’s painting his porch. But unfortunately, an unexpected visitor arrived, and that was the end of the painting. Now his porch is half painted, and the paint and brushes are sitting on the porch deck. That was disappointing. What can I say we live in a quiet neighborhood except for the dogs barking all night and not a whole lot going on? It’s not Mr. Rodger’s neighborhood. But it is the quietest place I have ever lived.

In our garden, the Irises and Flags and Peonies are finished blooming. And now the roses and Calla Lilies are coming into bloom. I have come to enjoy sitting on our little deck and looking at our small pond beneath it. We have one large Koi; he seems to be the boss. And there are about twenty other smaller fish who swim in circles all day and seem quite happy to do so. Not realizing how small their pond world is since it is the only world they know. If you know nothing else, can you miss it? I don’t know. I put up hummingbird feeders from the railing of our deck and have yet to see a single hummingbird. I live in hope that they will appear sooner or later.

As for myself, I finished a long-term project this week. About nine years ago I recorded oral family histories from anyone in my family who wanted to participate. After they were edited, they were transferred to disks. I included letters to each of my family and instructions for copying the disks for their children and grandchildren. I mailed them off to them since I now live in North Carolina. And they live in New Jersey.

I interviewed each family member about their lives, the high points, and the lows. I found out many things I didn’t know about them. Since I’m the youngest in my family of six and my older siblings are fifteen and twenty years my senior. My brother told me that when my mother went into labor with my twin sister and myself, he drove her to the hospital. He was almost twenty at the time.

Unfortunately, my older brother passed away two years ago. But I know that his children will love hearing his voice again relating stories about his childhood and his life up until the time when I spoke to him. He led a good life and an interesting one and a productive one. He was a psychologist; he specialized in family therapy. And my oldest sister, Jeanie, died at forty-one from emphysema in 1979. She was beautiful and intelligent and kept her sense of humor throughout her long illness. I still miss her.

About ten years ago, I finished a book I made, which included family history and pictures of both my mother and my father’s side of the family who came from Ireland. And a family health history and pictures of each part of my family and their early life, married life, and their children. Also, I included copies of letters that my mother and father wrote to me in the seven years that I lived in Florida and California in the early years of my marriage. It took me three years to complete, and I gave everyone a copy at Christmas.

I haven’t decided on my next project yet. I am considering writing a children’s book and illustrating it. For the last year, I’ve been writing and publishing my memoirs on my blog. I’m not a famous person, but I believe that every life has value, and we have lessons to share and truths to tell. And we can learn from other people’s mistakes.

In my middle years, all I read was autobiographies because I have found the lives of people to be fascinating no matter if they were rich and famous or ordinary people like myself not afraid to share their secrets, their fears, their hopes, and their dreams. I’m and you are a book worth writing and a book worth reading and sharing.

I hope this coming week that you will keep safe and healthy and keep your eyes open for all the interesting things that life brings to you, whether it is birds nesting in your yard or your neighbor jumping up and down with barbells above their head.

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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.

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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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March 27th, 2020 Corona Virus

Photo by Bob Culver

Douglas

Last Saturday, my husband Bob and me with our dog Douglas, decided to go to the Carrol Howard Johnson Environmental Park in Fuqua-Varina. Douglas loves walking through the woods, keeping his nose to the ground. Smelling all the delicious smells.

There was lite traffic on the usually busy roads that lead to Fuquay and the park.  When we arrived at the park, there were about six cars parked out front. Usually, there is only one or two. But it was Saturday, and we usually go during the week.

We enjoy this particular park because it has trails through the woods with streams and is somewhat hilly, but not too strenuous. As we started our hike, we could hear voices in the distance, including the happy laughter of little kids. It was like music to my ears.

When we were within shouting distance of one of the families, I noticed they kept glancing in our direction. I said, “Bob, I don’t think we should walk too close to these families. It seems like it is making them uncomfortable. We waited on one of the wooden deck overlooks while they passed us. There were about ten feet between us and them. I called out to them,” Hello.” They quickly walked by us and appeared to avoid any eye contact at all. They didn’t return my greeting.  It was kind of weird. And this was repeated several times with three other families.

I asked Bob, “Did you notice that they didn’t even make eye contact and didn’t say hello?”

“Yes, I noticed it’s weird,” Bob said.

“You know I think they somehow they felt they were at risk just to pass ten or more feet away from us and to speak to us.”

“I think you’re right Susie, they appeared to be afraid.”

I felt a kind of sinking feeling in my stomach. I kept swallowing hard. I felt sad. I’m a friendly person and when we pass people on the street. I always greet them and say ‘hi, how are you? Or just, “hello.” People almost always respond to a friendly greeting.

Douglas happily made his way through the woods, smelling all the delicious aromas. Totally oblivious that the world had changed so rapidly in a short time. People are afraid of their fellow humans because too close contact with them could possibly cause them to die.

We made our way back to our parked car. I couldn’t help but think to myself. “How is this going to turn out? Will we make it through somehow? What is to become of us?’ And I’m not just talking about myself and my husband. But, all of us. How will this end?

I have come to this conclusion, yes, we must be careful of coming in contact with people, and by that, I mean physical distance. But we can still safely acknowledge one another. And care about one another and want them to continue on with their lives. And be able to live happy and productive lives. Would any of us want to live in a world where we care nothing for other people’s well-being? I wouldn’t want to live in such a place. Be careful, take care of yourselves and your families. Be kind to one another.

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