Where Love Once Lived

Where Love Once Lived

Please visit my blog http://theresa-thebookmama.blogspot.com for a review of Where Love Once Lived by Sidney W. Frost.

More Or Less a Man-Part III

Relaxation

By Sunday evening Heather felt refreshed and ready to get back to work.  She had created a new game for Coach Davis and was looking forward to working with him.  Mr. Thomas in room 1436 had the same injuries as Coach Davis, so she planned to work with them together.  Unlike Coach Davis, Mr. Thomas had accepted his condition and was determined to gain strength through exercise.  She hoped Mr. Thomas would inspire Coach Davis to work harder.

"Good morning."  Heather told Ginger, her mentor for the program.

"Oh hi.  How was your weekend?"

"Great.  I really needed the time to myself."

"I know you had a rough week, but I promise you there will be plenty more of them.  You need to learn how to handle them because you will have more rough weeks in your career."

"How do I do that?"  Heather genuinely wanted o know.

"Do you have a hobby?"  

"No, I'm too busy going to school and do clinicals."

"Well you need to find a good hobby.  One that will take your mind off of work and allow you to 'escape' the world while standing in your living room."

"Okay, I'll think about that."

Heather decided to let Coach Davis know that she planned to work with both he and Mr. Thomas.  Entering his room, she was surprised to see him sitting up in the bed with a pleasant expression on his face.  As soon as he saw her, he broke out in a smile bright enough to light the entire room.  

"Well how are you doing?"  She asked.

Support Bars

"I'm fine.  I've missed you the last few days.  Where have you been?"

"I took some time off to relax."

"Oh, did it work?"

"Yes, thank you.  I had a great time."

 "You missed my boys."

"Your boys?"

"Yes, the team.  Almost every one of them came to see me last week.  I wish you'd been here."

"I saw them before I left for the weekend. They seemed to have lifted your spirits."

"Oh they did that.  They said the things I used to say to them in the locker room.  Believe me, I got the message."

"So are you ready to work?"

"Yes I am.  And you won't have to fuss at me today."

Heather explained her idea of working with Mr. Thomas, but Coach Davis requested to work alone and promised Heather he would didn't need inspiration. 

True to his word, Coach Davis worked hard and seemed to enjoy Heather's new game.  She stood at the end of the hospital bed and blew the bubbles from the dollar store through the wand.  Coach Davis would lift one of his nubs, as he called them, and pop the bubbles.  They both enjoyed the game.  They joked and laughed while they played or rather worked.  This was the old Coach Davis that Heather remembered from high school.

On Tuesday Coach Davis' medical chart wasn't on the shelf.  Heather walked quickly to his room and found an unfamiliar man measuring Coach Davis' legs.

"Hi Heather."  Coach Davis smiled when she walked in the room.  "This is Mr. Wynngate.  He's measuring for my prosthetic leg.  Isn't that exciting?"
 "Yes it is, but I didn't realize you were looking forward to it."
"I wasn't.  When Dr. Rossman asked me about it, I said not to bother.  I didn't plan to wear it.  But when my team came and read me the riot act I reconsidered.  When they were talking to me, I heard myself talking to them in the locker room at half time.  Can you believe that?  They used my own words against me.  I'm not sure that's fair."
"If it gets you out of this bed, it's fair.  You have way too much life in you to spend it in bed."  Heather remarked.
Mr. Wynngate looked up at Coach Davis and smiled.  "She's right about that."
"I guess so.  She was a student and dating one of my football players when I was coaching.  Now she's my physical therapist who thinks she's my boss."
" I do not think I'm your boss, but it might not be a bad idea for you to have a boss.  You haven't been exactly making rational decisions lately."
"See what I mean, Mr. Wynngate?  Instead of strengthening my muscles, she's analyzing my mental competency."
Again Mr. Wynngate smiled at the coach.  "Well if your plan was to lie in this bed until you died, she may be right about you not making good decisions.  You lost your legs and while that is a really big adjustment, it's not the end of your life.  With the prosthesis we have today you can be as active as you were before you lost your legs.  There is a man in South Carolina who ordered a custom made prosthesis so he can run races again."
"No way."  Coach Davis didn't believe that.
"Yes way.  Is that something you are interested in?  If so, I need to know before I start building your device.  I can build it for running if you want."
"Well I wasn't much of a runner.  It just wasn't my thing."
"What did you do before going into the military?"
"I was a football coach at the high school."
"Well I know it's not the same as the Friday night lights and fans screaming, but I volunteer at an organization called I-CAN.  It stands for International Child Amputee Network.   They help children who are born with under-developed limbs or lose them during childhood.  Every summer I volunteer as a counselor at a camp called Adventure Amputee Camp.  We have some really neat things for the children including river rafting, high ropes, and water skiing.  If we modify the equipment, these kids can do anything.  Like I said, it's not the same, but it would be working with children."  Mr. Wynngate loved these children and promoted the organizations anytime he got the chance.

"Let me think about it.  I'm not sure I'll be in any shape to volunteer by summer."
"You give me the word and I'll have you in shape by summer."  Heather told him.
Coach Davis and Mr. Wynngate laughed.
Mr. Wynngate gathered his equipment to leave and said, "I'll be back in a couple of weeks with your prosthesis and I'll bring you some information on I-CAN."  He left before Coach Davis could  refuse his offer.

"Well do you feel like working out after all that?"
"Not really, but I think I need to.  It sounds to me like Mr. Wynngate has me slated to help some children."

Weight Lifting

Over the next two weeks Coach Davis worked on building his strength.  He was surprised at how much muscle tone he had lost lying in bed.  Then he was embarrassed.  A coach should know better, he thought.
At the end of the second week, Heather found him working out in the weight room.  "How are you doing today?"
"I'm fine.  Mr. Wynngate is coming today with my prosthesis and I'm trying to get my workout done before he gets here."
"Well I think I'm about to stop your workout.  When he gets here, we are going to attach your new legs and then get you walking.  That will take more strength than you think so I want you to stop the workout and go rest for awhile.  I don't want you so tired you don't have the muscle tone to attempt walking." Heather said in her professional voice.

Reluctantly Coach Davis put down the weights and went back to his room.  It seemed like an eternity before Mr. Wynngate arrived with the prosthetic.  Heather wheeled Coach Davis into the therapy room where there was plenty of room to work.
Mr. Wynngate show the anxious coach how to attach the prosthesis to his leg.  Then Coach Davis stood for the first time in several months.  Heather had been right.  It took all his strength and the help of Mr. Wynngate to stand.  Holding on to bars on either side of his waist, he pulled himself down the therapy walkway.  Despite his best effort, he collapsed midway.  He was embarrassed and angry, but Mr. Wynngate informed him that most amputees trying the walkway for the first time fell. 

Over the next couple of weeks, Coach Davis improved enough to be dismissed from the hospital.  He still required outpatient physical therapy, but he was making great progress.  With regular checkups at the clinic and exercise at the gym he would continue to improve.  Heather was surprised at how much she missed him.

One day in early May, she walked to her usual nurse's station and saw Coach Davis in the waiting room.  She started to walk over to him, but she saw him walking toward her.  By the look on his face, she could tell he wanted to show her how well he was doing.  His steps were still a little slow, but he required no assistance from crutches or canes.  Heather couldn't help but smile watching him.  Then she noticed his smile was even broader than hers.

After the greetings and hugs, Coach Davis said, "I had to come see you.  I knew you'd want to hear my good news."
"What good news."
"I have been accepted as a counselor at Adventure Amputee Camp this summer.  I leave in two weeks to help set up camp.  Isn't that wonderful.  I can hardly wait."

"Yes, it is wonderful.  I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time.  I'm just as sure you will inspire the children."

"Oh, I don't think so.  I think it will be the other way around."

They laughed as Heather walked him to the elevator.  He promised to call when he returned with a full report.  She promised to consider volunteering next summer.

More or Less a Man

 Part II

Heather had been taught that if a patient didn't care he wouldn't heal. A therapist couldn't make a patient care.  Her head knew this, but her heart refused to believe that she couldn't help Coach Davis.  She had to find a way to motivate him.  The damage to his spirit was worse than the damage to his physical body and watching the results was just too difficult for Heather to take.  

 Heather left the hospital feeling less than happy about her job for the first time since starting her clinicals.  She didn't know what to do. Coach Davis wasn't going to die from his injuries, but he certainly wasn't living with them.

Heather spent time in prayer about the situation.  The next day she walked into the hospital prepared to talk to Coach Davis--more importantly she planned to listen.  She pulled a chair beside his bed and sat down with determination.

Coach Davis looked at her curiously and said, "What in the world are you doing?"

"I'm working."
"Working?  Doesn't look like work to me.  Your job is to make me feel better."
"You are right and that's what we're going to do today."
"By sitting in that chair?"
"By working on your biggest problem."
"Now that's funny.  My biggest problem is that I lost me legs."
"Well I will agree that is a problem.  But you have a bigger problem."
"What is that?"

"I have diagnosed it as DTJE."
"What is that?"
"It stands for Determined To Just Exist."
"Well how would you feel if you went to serve your country and you came back in pieces?"
"Thankfully I cannot answer that question because I have no experience to draw from."
"That's right, you don't know."  Coach Davis spat the words out of his mouth and the tone of voice showed his level of frustration.
 Be patient, Heather told herself. She knew he was hurting and lashing out at her because she was convenient.  "Why don't you tell me about it?"
"I'm damaged goods.  No one is going to want me now."
"I don't believe that."
"Well I do.  No school is going to hire me without legs.  No woman is going to want to spend the rest of her life with me."
"Oh I think any woman would be proud to spend her life with you."
"Not the one I was engaged to."  He said so softly that Heather hardly heard the words.
She hadn't know he was engaged.  "I'm sorry you lost your love."
"When she came to see me in the hospital, she promised that nothing had changed.  But as soon as the nurses removed the sheets to change my bandages, out that door she went.  She couldn't have gotten out of here faster if she worn roller blades.  For a week or so she called with excuses why she couldn't visit me.  Then she sent me a letter telling me that it was too painful to see me this way."
"She sent you a letter?"
"Yes."
"She didn't tell you in person?"
"No, just a letter."
"Excuse me for saying, but I'm not sure you lost much."
Coach Davis laughed for the first time since the attack.  "You might be right.  She was kind of high maintenance.  Did you know I bought her two engagement rings because she said the first diamond wasn't large enough?  We always ate at the best restaurants.  The only time I ate hamburgers was when I was with the team."
"Oh I think it's hard to beat a good hamburger."
"I agree."
"Did you know that a hamburger can actually be very healthy?  If you use lean meat and mustard on wheat buns, it is healthy.  You have your protein, whole wheat, and vegetables."
"Sounds like a complete meal."
"It is and a soft drink makes it a balanced meal."
Again Coach Davis laughed.  Heather liked his laugh. She wished she could have heard more, but it was time for her next patient.
"Please excuse me.  I need to go see my next patient."
"Okay, thanks for talking to me."
"I enjoyed it.  Don't you feel better."
"I don't think we solved any of my problems, but I'm okay."

Over the next week Heather watched Coach Davis as his emotions ran the gamut from 'everything is fine' to 'my life is over'.  There were days she thought she had made a difference and days she thought she'd wasted her time.  The end of the week was one of those days when she wondered why she tried.  Coach Davis was angry and snappy.  Heather continued to be her sweet, friendly self although there were times she momentarily considered choking him.
On Saturday morning, after a restless and prayerful night, she made a decision.  She walked quickly to the phone and dialed the number before she changed her mind.

"Hello?"
"Chip?  This is Heather."
"Hello Heather.  I still recognize your voice.  You don't have to tell me who you are."  He said with just a bit of teasing in his voice.  "What's up?"
As quickly and succinctly as possible she told him the story of Coach Davis' tragedy.  Chip was very saddened to hear about it.
"How can I help?"
"Well, he is so down, I thought that if some of the football players came to see him it'd lift his spirits."
"That's a good idea.  I probably won't come because I'm so far away, but I will call some of the team and see if they can come."
 "Thanks Chip.  I really appreciate it."

On Monday morning Coach Davis was in a relatively good mood, which always made Heather's job easier.  Although he didn't argue and complain, he didn't work very hard either.  He still did as little as possible.  Tuesday dawned a beautiful day outside, but a stormy day in Coach Davis' room.  He almost bit Heather's head off as soon as she walked in the door.  He did what she asked, but complained more than he exercised. His foul mood didn't improve Wednesday.  Then came Thursday--a day Heather will never forget. This was more than a bad mood.  He was argumentative, insolent, combative, sarcastic and arrogant.

Heather spent as little time as possible with him.  His gloomy attitude had affected Heather so badly that she had scheduled a day off on Friday.  She needed the long weekend and recover from the barbs she'd been thrown this week.

She was finishing paperwork and getting ready to go home when she heard a raucous down the hall.  The noise was coming from Coach Davis' room.  As she suspected, the team that went to state finals was standing in the hospital room of the coach they so willingly followed.  There were more high fives being passed around than lollipops at a birthday party.  Coach Davis was grinning from ear to ear.  Not a fake smile.  A genuine I-am-happy smile.  Heather hadn't seen that smile since she  graduated.
Just as quietly as she entered, Heather exited the room.  This was a team moment and she didn't want to intrude. 

Heather appreciated the long weekend as much as she needed it. She slept late, went shopping with a friend, and then saw a funny movie.  It felt good to laugh after such a draining week.  She had worked hard to keep her spirits up in front of Coach Davis and it was getting more difficult each day.  She was pretty close to letting him sink in his own despair.  That went against everything she believed, but the fact was, he was bringing her down with him.

Look for Part III next week.



 

More Or Less A Man

Preston Davis had just returned home from the war.  He wasn't the man he was four years ago.  He had been a well built, healthy young man.  Life couldn't have been better for him if he had designed it himself.  Athletics had always been a part of his life.  From youth football through college bowl games.  He had played them all.  After graduation he had accepted a position as football coach from his high school Alma mater.  The team had gone to state his first year of coaching, making him a very popular coach.  They didn't win, but he had been so proud of his team for making it to the finals.  His bright smile, positive attitude, and ability to make others feel comfortable made him easily accepted by the townspeople. 

Now he was a double amputee lying in a hospital bed with no future plans, thanks to the IED hit the humvee he was driving.  On top of the physical pain was the emotional agony.  He had been the only survivor in the humvee, although there were days he questioned the term survivor.   As far as he was concerned, his life was over.  Who would hire a coach that couldn't even walk, let alone demonstrate the plays to the team? 

Heather Allen had been a senior the year Preston was hired.  She had been dating the quarterback and had gone to every game.  If it was an away game, Coach Davis allowed her follow the bus home for safety.  Sometimes she stopped at a restaurant with the team on the way home.  There she witnessed first-hand why the team respected and loved the new coach so much.

At the end of the school year, Heather had graduated and gone on to college.  She and the high school quarterback had dated through their first year in college and then gone their separate ways.

Now Heather was completing her Master's Degree in Physical Therapy.  She was enjoying the clinicals at the VA hospital.  The courage of the men she worked with was inspiring.  Some were bitter, but most were determined to not let their injuries keep them from living a full life.  Heather felt blessed to be learning from the doctors, nurses, and physical therapists in this hospital.  She was amazed at how much she learned from the patients.

Heather opened the new patient folder to learn the needs of the patient.  Pain gripped her heart when she recognized the name.  She remembered how vibrant he had been before he left.  Now she held in her hand a folder labeled DOUBLE AMPUTEE.

"Excuse me while I go study this folder."  Heather said to her mentor.  Then she went in search of a quiet place.  Just as she found the solitude her tears started flowing.  "Lord, I can't do this without you.  I can't remain professional or keep my emotions in check without your help.  Please give me the strength to do what you have called me to do.  Amen"

In short order, the tears stopped and Heather made her way down the hall to Preston's room.  Just before entering she sent up one more silent prayer.  Then she put on her best professional look and opened the door.  At the sight of Preston she weakened and immediately felt the strength of the Lord come over her.  Preston was at least 30lbs. lighter than when he was coaching, the color of ashes, and looked as weak as a small child.

Heather intentionally threw her shoulders back and walked with determination toward his bed.  "Hi Coach Davis.  Do you remember me?  I dated Chip Reynolds in high school."

"Yes, I remember you.  What are you doing here?"

"I am completing my degree in physical therapy and this is where I do my clinicals.  I'm going to be your PT for a few days."

"I really don't feel like doing any work today."

"Oh but you will when I am finished.  You will feel like a new man."

"I don't feel like a man at all."  She heard him say under his breath.

Heather chose to ignore the remark.  "Let's start with the arms."

"My arms?  There's nothing wrong with my arms."

"I know, but you are not exercising like you once were.  So let's work them a while."  Heather instructed him on how to stretch his arms.  It didn't take long for him to begin to tire.  "Now let's work your legs for just a minute.  Then you can stretch while I'm not here."

"I really don't want to stretch right now."

"Now you are a coach.  What would you tell one of your players who told you he didn't feel like running plays today?"

"I don't believe that I can say that in front of you."

"I'm not surprised.  You were tough on your guys, weren't you?"

"Yes and it got us to the playoffs."

"It sure did.  I've never seen Chip so happy."

"He was a good quarterback.  What's he doing now?  Are you two still dating?"

"No we dated for a while after high school, but then we went our separate ways.  He went east to a college and I stayed here so it was hard to communicate.  We're still friends, but no dating.  He is still in college majoring in chemistry."

"Oh wow, that's good."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.  You've distracted me long enough.  Now start stretching those legs."

"You mean these nubs?"

"They are not nubs."

"Yes they are."

"Okay, temporary nubs."

Preston stretched each of his nubs out twice and then informed Heather that he could not do it again.  Frustrated, Heather left his room.

She kept picturing Chip on that football field in 99 degree weather, sweating, bruised, and dirty.  He wanted to quit but Coach Davis kept pushing him.  Sometimes Heather thought Chip was going to pass out, but he kept going because of Coach Davis.  Now Coach Davis needed a coach.

Heather went home and considered how to motivate Coach Davis.  She knew that every patient needed a goal to work toward.  What would Coach Davis set his sights on? She thought.  Lord, please give me some inspiration on how I can motivate Coach Davis.  Amen.

The next morning Heather made a point of focusing on each patient.  She wanted to complete her work quickly and efficiently.  She planned to spend quality time with Coach Davis in the afternoon. 

Heather walked into Coach Davis’ hospital room with much more confidence than she felt.  “Well Coach, how are you feeling today?”

“Like I got hit by an IED.”

“Oh, cracking jokes, huh?  You must be feeling better.”

Coach Davis didn’t smile and Heather recoiled at the change in what was once a sunny disposition.  She kept smiling and pretending that she was in complete control of her emotions.  “Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yes, why?”

“What is the difference in a great athlete and a mediocre athlete?”

“A great athlete never gives up.”  He answered with a snide voice.”

“I thought you’d say something like that.  Today we are going to play ball.” Heather said as she pulled a small ball from her bag.

“You don’t have to play catch with me like I’m a little kid, you know?”

“Oh we aren’t playing catch.”

“Then what are we going to play?”

“Kickball.”

“Hey Einstein, I’m lying in a hospital bed while both of my legs are in another country.  It might be a while before I can kick anything.”

“Then you’ll just have to use what you have in this country.”

“Well maybe we should change the name of the game to nub ball.”  The sarcasm in his voice was far different than the lilt that used to lift the spirits of his students.

Heather pulled back the sheets, exposing his bandaged legs.  She was careful to not let her feelings show in her face.  Then she adjusted the bed so that Preston was in a half sitting position. 

“Ready?  Let’s play.”  She said as she held the ball about twelve inches above his wounded legs and gently dropped it.  Preston made no effort to raise his legs to kick.  Frustrated but determined, Heather picked up the ball and tried again.  And again she received the same response—or lack of.

End of Part I

Part 2 coming next week.

What's Love?

Alex was excited about going to school.  Not that he liked school.  In fact he hated school.  He didn’t have any friends there.  No one seemed to like him or want to play with him.  He was excited because Madison was in his class again.  She had been in his class in Kindergarten.  She was cute in Kindergarten, but over the summer she had grown into a beautiful woman.  She was the prettiest and sweetest girl in first grade.  Every time Alex saw her, his mouth went dry and his knees wiggled like they were going to fall down.  He had to find a way to talk to her.

Alex jumped off the bus, skipping the two steps and causing the bus driver to yell at him.  He didn’t care.  He was determined to talk to Madison.  He marched into the classroom, making sure his lunch kit could be seen.  It was a man’s lunch kit just like his daddy’s—well, maybe a little small.  Alex wanted everyone to know that he was a man.  He may have been only six years old, but he was in love and that made him a man.  He walked up to Madison’s desk before he put his lunch kit away.  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  He tried again.  His mouth just hung open like a rusty hinge.  

“Get away from my desk.”  Madison yelled.

Once again Alex opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Did you hear me?  I don’t want you standing by my desk.”  

Alex went behind her desk and pulled her chair out for her like he had seen in the movies.  He didn’t realize that Madison was starting to sit.  She fell on the floor.

“I told you to get away from me.  Now look what you’ve done.  Just get out of here.  No one likes you anyways.”

Alex walked slowly to his locker to put away his lunch kit.  He was disappointed in himself and surprised at Madison.  He couldn’t believe she had yelled at him.  She must not be feeling well today.

At recess Alex watched Madison run to the swings.  On the swing she moved her legs back and forth to make the swing go higher.  Alex decided to help her.  He ran behind the swing and waited for it to come down.  When it did, he put both hands on Madison’s back and pushed as hard as he could.  Madison went high up in the air, the swing didn’t.  Madison hit the ground hard.  Her head bobbed down to the ground and when it came up there was blood coming out of her forehead.

Alex ran to say he was sorry, but Madison pushed him down in the mud.  Then she ran off to tell the teacher.  By the time she got to the classroom, blood was all over her dress.  Mrs. Johnson started wiping the blood off Madison’s face.  Alex walked into the room to make certain Madison was alright.

“Alex, I’m surprised at you.  That was mean.”  Mrs. Johnson scolded.

Alex tried to explain, but Mrs. Johnson didn’t want to hear about it.

“Go to the restroom and clean yourself up.  I don’t blame Madison for pushing you in the mud.”

Alex went to the bathroom and washed the mud off of his hands and arms.  Then he started to cry. 

 Not because he was hurt, but because he had hurt Madison.  He didn’t want her to see him crying.  She might think he was baby.  So he stayed in the bathroom until he stopped.  

When he walked back to the classroom, all the other students had come in from recess.  Madison’s mom was there too.  She looked at him in a mean way that scared Alex.  He walked up to her, but she turned away before he could speak.  Not that he could have spoken anyway.  Why did Madison make him so shy?

Madison’s mom took her to the doctor to get her cut fixed.  The room was kind of quiet after she left.  The other kids didn’t talk to Alex for the rest of the day.

The next morning Madison came back to school with a bandage on her head.  The doctor had put stitches in her head and covered it with gauze.  

“Madison, does your head hurt?”

“What do you care?  It’s your fault.  My daddy told me that if you touched me again, I’m supposed to hit you in the nose with my fist.  Get away from me or I’ll do what my daddy said.”

Alex sadly walked back to his desk.  He watched Madison all day to see if she needed anything.  When it was time for recess, Madison had to stay on the sidewalk so her cut wouldn’t come open again.  Alex decided to stay with her.  

“Hi Madison.  I’ll stay with you so you won’t get lonely.”  He told her.

“I think I’d rather be lonely.  Every time you are around something bad happens.”

“That’s not true.”  Alex said, but with not very much conviction.  It kind of was true.  He didn’t mean for these things to happen.  They just sort of happened before he could stop them.

“Just be quiet.”

“I’ll share me gum with you.”  He took it out of his mouth to give to her, but she turned her head.  Her ponytail hit his hand and the gum got stuck in her hair.  

“Now look what you’ve done.” Madison yelled.  “I told you to go away and leave me alone.  I don’t want you to stand by me.”

“Madison.”

“Just leave me alone.”  She yelled as she went into the school to tell the teacher what Alex did.

Alex went back to the restroom—to cry again.

After a while the principal came into the restroom.  “What’s the problem?”  Mr. Watson asked.

“Nobody likes me.  I don’t have any friends and most of all Madison hates me.”

“Well I’m sure it can’t be as bad as you say.  Let’s talk about it.  Nobody likes you?”

“No, nobody.”

“You see that’s not true.  I like you.  The important question is do you like yourself?

“Not really.” Alex answered.

“That’s the most important thing.  If you don’t like yourself, how can anyone else like you?  Tell me something good about you.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“What do you do well?”  Mr. Watson asked.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not true.   Everyone does something well.  Do you obey your parents?”

“Yes, most of the time.”

“Well that’s good.  Most children don’t obey their parents.”

“I clean my room sometimes.” Alex said.

“That’s good.  Did you push Madison?”

“Well I kind of did and I kind of didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”  Mr. Watson asked in his principal voice.

 “I was trying to help her go higher and she let go of the swing.  I didn’t mean for her to fall.”

“You were trying to help her?  That’s good.”

“I didn’t mean to put gum in her hair either.  I was trying to share my gum and she turned her head.”

“Sharing is good.”

“One time my sister was crying and I hugged her.”

“Caring is good.  It sounds to me like you do a lot of things well.  There are lots of things to like about Alex.  Now do you feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”  Alex walked back into the classroom.  He smiled at Roger.  Roger looked at him strangely.  Alex walked toward his desk.  Emily dropped her book and Alex stopped to pick it up for her.  She looked at him funny. 

Alex began being nice to everyone.  That afternoon Brandon invited Alex to play ball.  They both had fun.  Roger invited Alex to his house to watch cartoons.  Suddenly Alex was getting a lot of invitations to play with other children.  They were beginning to like Alex.  By the end of the week, the whole class liked Alex.  Well, not the whole class.  Madison still didn’t like him, but that was alright because Alex liked himself.  That was the most important thing.

Fiction Friday-Just Visiting

Just Visiting

Betty was sleeping in her recliner when she heard the sound.  She stirred slightly, not awake but not asleep either. It was a familiar sound yet she couldn’t identify it in her dazed condition.  Just as she was drifting back into a peaceful slumber, she heard the noise again. 

Wide awake now, she looked around the room to find the source of the racket.  When she saw it, she was shocked that she hadn’t been able to identify it sooner.  Walter, her husband of fifty-two years, was rocking back and forth in the old rocker.  Betty saw his mouth move, but couldn’t understand what he said.  The loud creak of the rocking chair, which they had received as a wedding gift, made conversation difficult.  He stopped rocking so she could hear him.

Walter smiled, “Good morning, sleepy-head.  I was afraid you’d sleep all day.”

“Walter?”

“Yes, dear.”

“What are you doing here?  What do you want?”

“I just wanted to visit with you.  It’s been a long time since we’ve talked.  How have you been?”

“I’m fine.  I have good days and bad days.  How are you?”

“I’m great.  All of my days are good.  I haven’t had a bad day in six months.”  Walter was clearly excited.  “I feel great.  I walk all day long, just visiting with one person then another.  I can always find someone to talk to, you know?”

“How well I remember.  You were always the first one to arrive at church and the last one to leave.  I used to get so mad at you for holding up dinner.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”  He chuckled.  It had never bothered him when she would get angry about one of his habits.  He was who he was and didn’t plan to change.  He always reasoned that he had been behaving that way longer than she had been getting upset about it; so it was easier for her to change.  Every once in a while, he’d feel a little guilty about not trying to change.  Then he’d remember that he was that way before they met.  He rationalized, She knew that when she married me.  With that justifying statement, he continued the habit and secretly enjoyed watching his beautiful wife turn three shades of red as she tried to keep her temper in check.

“No, I’d gladly worry about it again if you were here.”

“I know, Sweetheart.  I’d love to see you happy, but I just don’t want to come back.  You’ll understand when you get there.  You wouldn’t want to come back either.”

“Do you miss me?”

“No, Darling.  I’m afraid not.”

Betty couldn’t keep the tears from falling.  She had been sure he was missing her as much as she was missing him.  Now he stood before her saying that wasn’t true.

“Please don’t cry, Sweetheart.  I love you, but I don’t miss you.  I have to leave soon.  Let’s don’t spoil what little time we have together with tears.”

“I’m sorry.  I just miss you so much.”

“Is that why you are sleeping in the recliner?”  Walter asked tenderly.

“Yes.  I haven’t slept in our bed since you left.  When I go in the bedroom I just see a huge, ugly platform.  I just can’t sleep there.  I did try, but I kept reaching for you.  The pillows weren’t comfortable, so I bought new ones.  That didn’t help.  I finally realized what was wrong.  I had laid my head on your should before falling asleep every night for fifty-two years.  They don’t make a pillow as comfortable as your shoulder.  Did you really have to leave me?”

“Yes, Darling.  I stayed as long as I could, but finally the pain was more than I could stand.”

“The doctor was giving you pain pills.”

“The pills were only easing the pain.  They didn’t kill it.  Please don’t begrudge me the opportunity to be pain free and happy.”

“I don’t.  I’m sorry if I sound as if I do.  I’m just being selfish.  It isn’t easy being alone.”  Betty heard the whine in her voice, but couldn’t help feeling sorry for herself.

“I know.  You won’t be alone for very long.  Soon you’ll come with me and we’ll be able to visit for all eternity.”

“Is that why you’re here?  Can I go with you today?”

“Not today, but soon.  When you come, I’ll be waiting at the gate for you.”

“How will you know I’m coming?”  Betty asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll know.”

The unexpected ringing of the telephone prevented her from asking more questions.  “Hello?”  She answered.

“Hi, Mom.  What are you doing today?”

“Oh I was just visiting with your dad.”  The silence was deafening.  “Alisha?  Are you there?”

“Mom, Dad has been dead for six months.”

“Do you really think I don’t know that?  In case you don’t remember, I’m the one that wakes up every morning without him.  He may have died six months ago, but he is sitting in my rocking chair today.”

As if to verify her statement, Betty turned toward the old rocking chair.  It was perfectly still and empty.  She quickly looked around the room.  “Walter?  Walter?  Where are you?”  With fresh tears, she said, “He was here, Alisha.  I know he was here.  I saw him.”

“When did you see him?”

“When I woke up this morning.”

“I think you were dreaming, Mom.”

“I know the difference in reality and a dream, Missy.”  Betty snapped.

Alisha cringed as she heard the name.  It was used to express her mother’s displeasure with her.  She had heard it often growing up.  Alisha couldn’t decide if she upset her mother often or her mother was always upset and funneled it Alisha’s way.

“Calm down, Mom.  I’m sure you believe you saw Dad, but I’ve never heard of someone coming back from the dead.”

“Well I don’t care.  He was here.”

“Have you been feeling alright?”

“Oh, good one, Alisha.  Like I don’t know what you’re trying to say.  I’m not crazy.  I talked to your dad everyday for fifty-two years and I don’t plan to stop now.”

“I don’t want you to stop talking to him.  I just want to make sure you know that he wasn’t really there today.”

“He was here and you are not going to get me to admit otherwise.”  Betty’s voice was at a level and pitch that clearly showed her frustration.

“Fine, Mom.  Just please don’t tell anyone that Dad came to see you today.”

“I’ll think about it.”  Betty snapped as she hung up without saying goodbye.  She loved her daughter, but there were times when they butted heads.  Usually during those times neither was willing to back down.  Walter had intervened many times when Alisha was growing up. 

Betty went back to her recliner.  “Walter?” She called softly.  “Walter, please come back.  I need you so much.  I don’t want to live without you.”  Again the tears started and couldn’t be stopped.  He had been the love of her life.  She had married him right out of high school and had never considered loving anyone else.  Every decision she had made for the last fifty-two years had been with his happiness in mind. The thought of facing another day without him was unbearable.  Eventually Betty fell asleep. 

Alisha began to feel guilty for the way she had talked to her mother.  She thought about it for a while and decided she owed her mother an apology.  With a heavy heart and filled with anxiety, Alisha dialed her mother’s phone number.  This time there was no answer.  After several calls, she drove to Betty’s house.  As she walked in the front door, she saw her mother sleeping in the recliner.  Irritated that her mother hadn’t gotten up to answer the phone, Alisha walked over to wake her up. 

“Mom.  Mom, wake up.  When are you going to learn you have to answer the phone?  I worry when you don’t answer my calls.  Mom?  Mother?”

Betty didn’t wake up.  She didn’t move.  She had gone to be with Walter, her husband, lover, friend, and reason for living.