Coming Together

Tomorrow night at 10 PM my husband and I will, God willing, be at the airport in San Antonio awaiting the arrival of my father and his girlfriend. They are flying in from the Midwest to spend a few days with us. My son is driving there from Tennessee and should be half-way by bedtime tonight. John and I will be making the five hour journey late tomorrow afternoon, arriving just in time. My daughter and son-in-law live there, so are playing host and hostess for this event.

This will be the first time in 17 years that my father, both of my children and me have all been together in the same place!!! The last time my son and I went home to visit Dad, my son was 16 and had just obtained his driver's license. He is 30 year old now!

The last time Dad saw my daughter was 1995. It's been two years since I've seen him, and nearly two years since I've seen my son, and now John will finally get to meet them both. I don't have to tell you how excited I am about us all getting together!

Dad is 84, and though his mind is still sharp, he has congestive heart failure which keeps him a bit short of breath. His mobility is greatly diminished by constant pain in his legs. He has spinal decompression surgery scheduled for November 3rd. The surgeon believes this will reduce the pain, so that he'll be able to walk more. I am extremely grateful that God is giving us this time together now.

I am praying for all of us weary travellers to arrive safely in San Antonio, on time, tomorrow evening. Then... let the fun begin! :-)

Junk

This week's prompt for Sunday Scribblings is "junk". Here is my story...

Todd found Elisabeth sitting on the floor of the spare bedroom they used for storage. Next to her was an old battered suitcase he'd seen her looking thru at least a dozen times before. Contents of the suitcase scattered around her on the floor, Todd could tell that Elisabeth was somewhere far away, lost in her memories.

She didn't notice him standing in the doorway watching her as she picked up items one by one - an old postcard, an empty perfume bottle, a faded man's handkerchief, a tarnished locket, a battered pocket-size New Testament, a ragged piece of fabric that looked like might have been a baby blanket at one time, a small teddy bear with a missing eye, and at least a dozen other things that looked more like trash than treasures to him.

Elisabeth touched them gently, caressing them and holding them close to her heart as if they held some magical power. It seemed like every time they'd had an argument, and there had been a lot of them lately, Todd would find her here going thru this stuff. He'd asked her about it once, when they were moving and trying to pare down the stack of belongings going with them. But she'd cut him off short with a glare, "Drop it... it goes."

Elisabeth wasn't one to open up about her past, but Todd was growing impatient with this suitcase ritual. "Good grief" he exclaimed, startling her as she became aware of his presence. "It's just a bunch of crap, a pile of junk. Why don't you get over it and get rid of it?"

She looked up at him with more coldness in her eyes than he'd ever seen before. It scared him and he backed off. "Fine, just sit here with your suitcase full of garbage and stare off into space" he snapped, "I'm going out", and with that he stomped down the hallway, grabbed his keys from the hook, and slammed the door.

A tear rolled down Elisabeth's face, and then another and another. If only he could understand that this beat-up old suitcase held all that remained of what once was her life - before the fire that took her Mom and her baby brother, before her Dad became a raging alcoholic and hung himself one night... and now Elisabeth feared that she was losing Todd too.

(Now head over to Sunday Scribblings for more stories from some great writers!)

Bump In the Night

This week's prompt for Sunday Scribblings is "bump in the night." Here is my story... and it's true!

Julie's husband played in a rock n' roll band so she was used to him being out late for gigs. She didn't mind being home alone at night, she enjoyed the quiet time to read and write and watch the kind of movies that he wouldn't watch with her when he was home. They lived ten miles out in the country on a lonely stretch of highway that didn't see much traffic. A single yard light cast shadows in the darkness, providing only enough visibility to see a few feet near the driveway and backdoor. It's pale glow gave the trees and outbuildings an eerie feel.

On this particular night in late October, Julie had just finished cleaning the house and mopping floors. She settled comfortably on the sofa, a glass of cold milk and a plate of warm brownies close at hand, and opened the book she was currently reading. Her cats curled up around her, purring contentedly. Down the hallway she could hear the clothes dryer softly rumbling as it tumbled a load of laundry. She didn't have the tv on tonight, she didn't need it for noise in the room as some people did. Julie loved the quiet. The house was dark except for the table lamp she read by and a small nightlight in the kitchen. She was frugal about things like utilities and didn't light the house up just because she was alone. She'd never had cause to be afraid there even if the nearest neighbor was over a mile away.

Julie was deep into the story, reading chapter after chapter - always telling herself "just one more before I head off to bed". It didn't matter how late she stayed up reading, her husband would come home later still and tomorrow was Sunday, a good day for sleeping in. She was starting to get drowzy, and her eyelids were getting heavy. She nearly nodded off, but was brought abruptly to attention by the sound of a dull heavy THUMP against the side of the house... and then another even closer to where she sat! Startled, adrenalin begin rushing thru her veins. The cats' ears and tails stood straight up as they rapidly abandoned her and headed for safety under the bed.

A sliding patio door was centered on the west wall of the living room, and although it was locked Julie knew that it would take little effort for someone to shatter the glass. No one ever used that entrance for visiting; there was no sidewalk leading up to it, just a yard full of prickly weeds. If someone was lurking out there it couldn't be for any good reason.

The thumping against the wall grew louder as it came closer and closer to the door. Julie's heart was pounding in her ears as she set her book down and arose slowly from the sofa. Who was out there beating on the wall... and why? Did whoever it was know she was home alone?

There were no weapons in the house. A product of the 60's, Julie hated guns. But now, rapidly becoming terrified and realizing that she was defenseless against intruders, Julie was questioning the wisdom of that stance. Quietly she slipped across the room and put her back against the wall, fully expecting the glass door to implode at any moment.

When she couldn't bear the suspense one moment longer, she inched along the wall until she was standing next to the door. Reaching up, she flipped the porch light switch with one hand and grasped a corner of of the curtain with the other. Wild-eyed and shaking with fear, she jerked back the curtain, preparing to confront whoever was lurking there. And there he stood, staring straight back at her with a head twice the size of of any normal man... a hairy beast with massive shoulders, piercing eyes, and and saliva dripping from his mouth.

As Julie and the beast came face to face she collapsed on the floor, overcome with laughter and relief. There before her stood her father-in-law's massive bull, El Diablo, thumping the house as he rubbed his hairy head against it. Once again he had managed to escape the confines of his pen and had wandered over to pay a visit, scaring the hell out of Julie in the process.

She called her father-in-law. Roaring with laughter, he apologized and said he'd round up a couple helpers and come down to get the bull. Julie assured him that any future nocturnal visits from El Diablo would most definitely result in his conversion to prime grade Black Angus steaks for her freezer.

Upon further inspection the next morning, Julie and her husband discovered that El Diablo had not only roughed up the siding on the house and trampled their rural mailbox, he had also decided to take a large bite out of their big post-mounted satellite receiver dish, rendering it inoperable. You can imagine how much fun Julie had explaining that to the service rep when she called to obtain another! :-)

(Note: Head over to Sunday Scribblings for more scary stories.)

Stories and Other Stuff

My Sunday Scribblings offering in response to the prompt of "first kiss" was not a sweet story of childhood, nor was it the warm tale of my first encounter with my beloved spouse. There are other stories to be told, even if they are on some levels disturbing. The First Kiss touched on several issues... loneliness, morality, faith, fear, and of course the children. If it made you think or caused an emotional reaction, then it's purpose was served. There is far more to that story and an ending as well... perhaps some day I'll feel inclined to share it.

It has once again been a full month since I've been here to post. Why is it that time as a child seems to move so slowly and and as an adult flashes by? One month folds on top of another and now it is autumn. When I left for work Saturday morning the sun was just starting to rise. I love cooler mornings and evenings, and before too long afternoons will follow. I wish I had far more time to spend outdoors enjoying them.

I've done a lot of thinking about my blogging as of late, since I find myself often coming to a roadblock of what I wish to share and what I do not feel comfortable sharing. While I enjoy documenting pieces of my life journey here and will continue to do so from time to time, I'd like to put more time and effort into writing other things such as the piece I wrote yesterday.

Work has dominated everything for the past two weeks - I've left the house at 7:30 AM and returned home at 6:30 PM, running the office alone while my supervisor was in Dallas. She had a new grandson born with heart defects that have now been corrected by surgery. God willing, he will soon be on the road to health and coming home. While the overtime pay is most welcome, I'd come home at night totally exhausted with little energy to do more than get ready for the next day. She is back now, and my hours have returned to normal, so hopefully I'll be able to effect some cleaning and laundry at home. My spouse is amazingly patient.

Next weekend the CAF (Commemorative Air Force) Air Show is on tap, and just three weeks from now we'll be headed to San Antonio for a meet-up with my daughter and her husband who live there, my son who is coming from Tennessee, and my father and his girlfriend who are flying in from the Midwest. My Dad hasn't met my husband, and he hasn't seen either of my children in many years. While he insists on making this journey, I worry about him making the trip at his age, where walking and breathing are difficult and pride keeps him from carrying oxygen or using a cane. We will keep the sight-seeing low key and rent assistive devices if he'll let us. I had to push him to notify his hotel of choice that he needed ground floor accommodations. The last thing he needs is a fall down the stairs! But he loves to travel, and October is a good season to visit such a warm place. He's had a lot of ups and downs in this past year, and is currently planning to undergo back surgery in early November. Don't bother to convey the pros and cons of this decision, it is his body and his choice. Freedom of choice is one of the few rights of independence he still has remaining. More and more I come to understand that getting old just plain sucks.

A couple weeks ago we brought over an oak curio cabinet from John's old house, and I was at long last able to unpack my mother's Desert Rose dishes. Some of you might remember the issues regarding my older sister and their transfer to me. Suffice it to say that it is lovely to see the dishes Mom spent years collecting piece by piece now beautifully displayed. They bring back many good memories of meals at home where they graced our table not just on holidays, but everyday. I've posted a picture above. The matching soup tureen my big sister insisted she packed and sent with them wasn't there. Big surprise, not. It doesn't matter, I no longer care. Little of what she says is to be believed, and I continue to maintain a healthy distance.

My daughter is back together with her husband. At the moment things are going good and they are busy with the ongoing remodelling of their house. Sadly, trust broken is not easily restored and as she notes, there is no guarantee that he won't again feel "unhappy" with their relationship a month or a year from now. The experience has made her stronger though, and the many prayers have helped greatly. I believe she at long last understands that she can survive whatever life brings to her, that there is always the strength to move on when we must. The reality is, that nothing in life is assured except birth and death and the grace of God. The unexpected could and often does happen. Therefore, it's incredibly important that we truly LIVE life today, and make the most of of time spent with those we love.

Speaking of treasuring what we have, John and I just celebrated our first anniversary! There has not been a single day since those vows were spoken that I have regretted my decision to marry John and move here to begin a new life. He is an amazing man, and God has blessed us in so many ways. While there have been plenty of struggles to deal with in the past year, we face them together and somehow muddle thru. It isn't what we have in our life, it's who we have to share it with!