I just woke up from one of the most horrible dreams of my life. I'd woken up a few minutes before the alarm with that happy, fifteen more minutes!, feeling. I lay there drowsy and dreamy in my warm snuggly blankets. Then the dratted radio made that whirling sound it does before it goes off. I was dragging my protesting mind back to consciousness when a voice out of the blue whispers in my ear, 'Jennie's passed away'.
You can bet I was awake then! Heart pounding, chest so tight I could hardly catch my breath. 'It's not true. It's just a dream,' I assured myself. No, I didn't rush to call her to make sure, though I desperately wanted to. I'm not superstitious, but I do believe in self-fullfilling prophesy. Besides, someone would have called me if my daughter had caught a cold, let alone anything more serious.
And sure enough, she calls and lets me know she's having a great time and will see me later today.
Seriously, though, give your kids an extra hug before they leave the house today. Tell them you love them. Life can change in a single breath.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
My Beautiful Sister Mary
Mom’s surgery goes well. We sit in her room laughing and teasing each other. We’re quiet when she’s napping; saying things to make her smile when she’s awake.
She has a rough night. She wakes up at 11p.m., anxious and scared. Mary sits on the floor beside her bed, holding her hand, reassuring her that she’s not alone. Saying the words we say to comfort a child awake with nightmares. At one point Mom tells Mary she just needs to be held. Mary carefully climbs on the bed and holds her in her arms until she feels better. Sometime around 2a.m. they sleep.
Mom’s awake at 4:30a.m., frightened. She’s reacting to the medicine they gave her to sleep. She tries to climb from the bed and Mary has to physically hold her down, reassure her that she’s okay. That nothing’s wrong. Mom struggles and says she feels like she might throw-up. Mary buzzes for the nurse. Someone comes in carrying a bucket. Mary sends him off to get some real help.
No one comes. So Mary, my hero, calls the Family Emergency Crisis number to be used only when a patient needs help NOW. Within minutes Mom’s room is full of doctors and nurses and everyone Mom could possibly need.
I can think of no words eloquent or grand enough to thank Mary for the gentleness, resolve and courage with which she is taking care of my Mom. She’s doing it out of love for Mom, but I feel I owe her a debt of gratitude that I will gladly hold the rest of my life.
She has a rough night. She wakes up at 11p.m., anxious and scared. Mary sits on the floor beside her bed, holding her hand, reassuring her that she’s not alone. Saying the words we say to comfort a child awake with nightmares. At one point Mom tells Mary she just needs to be held. Mary carefully climbs on the bed and holds her in her arms until she feels better. Sometime around 2a.m. they sleep.
Mom’s awake at 4:30a.m., frightened. She’s reacting to the medicine they gave her to sleep. She tries to climb from the bed and Mary has to physically hold her down, reassure her that she’s okay. That nothing’s wrong. Mom struggles and says she feels like she might throw-up. Mary buzzes for the nurse. Someone comes in carrying a bucket. Mary sends him off to get some real help.
No one comes. So Mary, my hero, calls the Family Emergency Crisis number to be used only when a patient needs help NOW. Within minutes Mom’s room is full of doctors and nurses and everyone Mom could possibly need.
I can think of no words eloquent or grand enough to thank Mary for the gentleness, resolve and courage with which she is taking care of my Mom. She’s doing it out of love for Mom, but I feel I owe her a debt of gratitude that I will gladly hold the rest of my life.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The Waiting Room
The three most wonderful words to hear... "He's (she's) doing fine. " I'm sitting in the waiting room Friday afternoon, hands tight in my lap, Mom five hours into her surgery, listening to the soft conversations going on around me. The lines from a Death Cab song run in my head. "...there's no comfort in the waiting room. Just nervious faces bracing for bad news. Then the nurse comes 'round, and everyone lifts their head..."
The doctor comes in and calls a man's name. His family replies and the doctor takes a seat by them. The first words from his mouth are, "He's doing fine." Dear God! The relief and gladness and joy and tears that pour from these people are overwhelming. I have to leave the room and stare out a window in the hallway for a few minutes. Cherrie blossoms and pink azaleas blur in my sight.
Our good news comes a little differently. Mary's standing in the hallway and turns excitedly to us. "They're bringing her down the hall!" Luckily they turn down another hallway before they reach us. We would have smothered her! But we got to see her in the ICU for a few minutes to say goodnight soon after that. It was wonderful.
The doctor comes in and calls a man's name. His family replies and the doctor takes a seat by them. The first words from his mouth are, "He's doing fine." Dear God! The relief and gladness and joy and tears that pour from these people are overwhelming. I have to leave the room and stare out a window in the hallway for a few minutes. Cherrie blossoms and pink azaleas blur in my sight.
Our good news comes a little differently. Mary's standing in the hallway and turns excitedly to us. "They're bringing her down the hall!" Luckily they turn down another hallway before they reach us. We would have smothered her! But we got to see her in the ICU for a few minutes to say goodnight soon after that. It was wonderful.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The joy and agony of writing
It’s true. I absolutely and completely love writing. From the minute I turn on the computer and open my latest document to the last second I’ve waited to tear myself from the keyboard, I’m enchanted. I’m lost in a world of dreams and words and emotions that are not quite my own and not solely theirs. My characters take me to places and times I’d never have the courage to go to in reality. There are days when the story spills from me in thousands of words, and others when a single scene is written painfully in tattered phrases and broken sentences. Where the emotions start in my stomach and press on my heart and dance in illusive words in my brain till my stumbling fingers give birth to them on a page I have to blink the tears from my eyes to read. God, I love it. Thank you for this gift.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Alex's Interview with Officer Mandel
part 6
Brad stared at Alex, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean? I thought you and her…”
Alex’s head shot up. “I won’t discuss that,” he said angrily, glaring from him to Haden. He looked ready to bolt and Brad straightened, moving behind his desk.
“Should we break for lunch?” he asked the chief, reaching for the phone. Haden grimaced sourly at the abrupt change of conversation, but inclined his head.
Alex looked baffled, then the anger left his face and he sank into his chair, folding his arms on his chest.
“Jane was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he said into the quiet room. Brad replaced the receiver in its cradle, watching Alex’s expressive face. The boy took a breath. “I was fourteen, and lonely. She was kind to me.” A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I didn’t even know what love was.”
He looked at them without embarrassment. “Sean Elson was a good man. A better father than I deserved. I was backward and stupid, afraid of my own shadow. His patience still amazes me. He set it up so I wouldn’t have to go to school, and when he couldn’t be there, Jane made sure I did my lessons.”
He turned suddenly to Ben. “I wanted to do something big with my life, to thank him, but he died…”
Haden’s craggy face softened at the distress in his voice. “Don’t worry, son. He’d be proud of you.”
Brad noisily picked up the phone in the awkward pause that followed Ben’s words. “So, sandwiches all right with everyone?”
Alex laughed as the tension eased in his chest. “Sure.”
Brad stared at Alex, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean? I thought you and her…”
Alex’s head shot up. “I won’t discuss that,” he said angrily, glaring from him to Haden. He looked ready to bolt and Brad straightened, moving behind his desk.
“Should we break for lunch?” he asked the chief, reaching for the phone. Haden grimaced sourly at the abrupt change of conversation, but inclined his head.
Alex looked baffled, then the anger left his face and he sank into his chair, folding his arms on his chest.
“Jane was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he said into the quiet room. Brad replaced the receiver in its cradle, watching Alex’s expressive face. The boy took a breath. “I was fourteen, and lonely. She was kind to me.” A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I didn’t even know what love was.”
He looked at them without embarrassment. “Sean Elson was a good man. A better father than I deserved. I was backward and stupid, afraid of my own shadow. His patience still amazes me. He set it up so I wouldn’t have to go to school, and when he couldn’t be there, Jane made sure I did my lessons.”
He turned suddenly to Ben. “I wanted to do something big with my life, to thank him, but he died…”
Haden’s craggy face softened at the distress in his voice. “Don’t worry, son. He’d be proud of you.”
Brad noisily picked up the phone in the awkward pause that followed Ben’s words. “So, sandwiches all right with everyone?”
Alex laughed as the tension eased in his chest. “Sure.”
One Crazy Week
Good golly Miss Molly! (insert any expletives you'd like here, they all work) What a crazy emotional week I've had. Two weeks ago I was given a release date for my book 'Alex'. I thought, 'Wow! I made it!' As with any publishing company, there's always the chance of having a release date pushed back several months, but I was sure I'd passed that hurdle.
So! I asked for some Saturdays off work (never easy) to do promotional stuff. I met with the organizer of our local Saturday Market about spending weekends at their writers' bookshop. Such a nice person! I visited with the founder of one of our local charities to discuss donations. Lovely woman. I even made a list of bookstores to discuss booksignings with.
Then comes the polite letter Wednesday saying my book has been pushed back until September. Nothing like plunging from the heights of happiness to the depths of despair (exaggeration). But I have a little more understanding and sympathy for bi-polar sufferers. The fall is shattering.
On the bright side, I've talked with the publishers some more, and they may be able to push my release date to earlier in the summer. I should have a date tomorrow.
Life is never dull, anyway. Bye for now!
So! I asked for some Saturdays off work (never easy) to do promotional stuff. I met with the organizer of our local Saturday Market about spending weekends at their writers' bookshop. Such a nice person! I visited with the founder of one of our local charities to discuss donations. Lovely woman. I even made a list of bookstores to discuss booksignings with.
Then comes the polite letter Wednesday saying my book has been pushed back until September. Nothing like plunging from the heights of happiness to the depths of despair (exaggeration). But I have a little more understanding and sympathy for bi-polar sufferers. The fall is shattering.
On the bright side, I've talked with the publishers some more, and they may be able to push my release date to earlier in the summer. I should have a date tomorrow.
Life is never dull, anyway. Bye for now!
Monday, December 28, 2009
Alex's Interview with Officer Mandel
'Alex' coming March, 2010 http://www.mountainlandpublishing.com/
part 5
Brad settled back against his desk when the chief abruptly cleared his throat, flicking him an irritated glance as he reached over and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
“Sean Elson found you in the basement.” He waited until Alex looked at him, then gave him an encouraging nod. “I also read the report, but can you tell us what happened in your own words?”
Alex rubbed his hands on his jeans, then clasped them together to hold them still. “I’ll try.”
Brad watched Alex’s tapping foot, wishing there was a way to make things easier on the boy. He glanced up and met the young man’s eyes.
Alex dropped his gaze to the floor, breathing hard. “I don’t remember very much,” he confessed grudgingly. “Mama had me down there a long time. I hadn’t eaten anything, and when I said I was thirsty she made me drink out of her bottle. It made her angry when I threw it back up.”
He continued with a small laugh, “Anyway, the noise from the fire confused me. I didn’t know what it was, and it was a while before I smelled the smoke. It scared me and I rolled off the mattress and squirmed towards the hall. That’s when a fireman came rushing down the stairs.”
“That was Sean?” Ben asked.
“Yes, sir.” Alex shrugged and moved in his chair, uncomfortable. He glanced at Brad then quickly away. “He scared me worse than the fire. You see, I hadn’t met very many people, and he was in full gear…”
“That would have scared the crap out of me,” Brad murmured.
Alex gave him a grateful look. He sat up and squared his shoulders. “I was fourteen, but in most ways I was younger than that. Mr. Elson carried me upstairs and through the fire…the heat and stench and noise…God.”
He brushed the sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand. Brad handed him bottled water and they waited while he composed himself.
He carefully screwed the cap back on the bottle, intent on the task. “It was worse outside. I was given to the medics, who poked at me and asked questions I couldn’t answer. I felt confused and scared and the neighbors stared at me.” A shudder ran through him. “I hated the pity in their eyes.”
Brad shifted his gaze across the room, noting the bright sunshine outside the window. He absently watched a bird hop across the sill as Alex continued his narrative.
“I was terrified when they put me in their truck and drove away from home. I didn’t know where I was going or what would happen to me. I spent a month at the hospital, frightened and alone. Every day people would come and ask me questions. I felt like a monkey on display. That’s when Mr. Elson rescued me and took me to his house.” Alex drew a hard breath. “In a way, that was worse.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?” Brad looked at the young man’s bent head.
Alex shrugged. “Jane was there.”
part 5
Brad settled back against his desk when the chief abruptly cleared his throat, flicking him an irritated glance as he reached over and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
“Sean Elson found you in the basement.” He waited until Alex looked at him, then gave him an encouraging nod. “I also read the report, but can you tell us what happened in your own words?”
Alex rubbed his hands on his jeans, then clasped them together to hold them still. “I’ll try.”
Brad watched Alex’s tapping foot, wishing there was a way to make things easier on the boy. He glanced up and met the young man’s eyes.
Alex dropped his gaze to the floor, breathing hard. “I don’t remember very much,” he confessed grudgingly. “Mama had me down there a long time. I hadn’t eaten anything, and when I said I was thirsty she made me drink out of her bottle. It made her angry when I threw it back up.”
He continued with a small laugh, “Anyway, the noise from the fire confused me. I didn’t know what it was, and it was a while before I smelled the smoke. It scared me and I rolled off the mattress and squirmed towards the hall. That’s when a fireman came rushing down the stairs.”
“That was Sean?” Ben asked.
“Yes, sir.” Alex shrugged and moved in his chair, uncomfortable. He glanced at Brad then quickly away. “He scared me worse than the fire. You see, I hadn’t met very many people, and he was in full gear…”
“That would have scared the crap out of me,” Brad murmured.
Alex gave him a grateful look. He sat up and squared his shoulders. “I was fourteen, but in most ways I was younger than that. Mr. Elson carried me upstairs and through the fire…the heat and stench and noise…God.”
He brushed the sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand. Brad handed him bottled water and they waited while he composed himself.
He carefully screwed the cap back on the bottle, intent on the task. “It was worse outside. I was given to the medics, who poked at me and asked questions I couldn’t answer. I felt confused and scared and the neighbors stared at me.” A shudder ran through him. “I hated the pity in their eyes.”
Brad shifted his gaze across the room, noting the bright sunshine outside the window. He absently watched a bird hop across the sill as Alex continued his narrative.
“I was terrified when they put me in their truck and drove away from home. I didn’t know where I was going or what would happen to me. I spent a month at the hospital, frightened and alone. Every day people would come and ask me questions. I felt like a monkey on display. That’s when Mr. Elson rescued me and took me to his house.” Alex drew a hard breath. “In a way, that was worse.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?” Brad looked at the young man’s bent head.
Alex shrugged. “Jane was there.”
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