Aging: 101

It's a sure bet, and I'm a terrible gambler, to say that millions, if not trillions, of dollars are spent yearly on anti-aging products.  Just type 'anti-aging' into a search bar and within a millisecond, there will be over 300 million items to choose from.  If an individual spent five minutes researching each item, well, they would probably be found as a skeleton, with their bony little fingers still resting on the keyboard, many years later.  That would be irony at its finest.

I will be the first to admit that it is sometimes hard growing old in a world that is geared towards the young.  Standing in the foyer of the gymnasium, 45 plus years ago, waiting to graduate from high school, many of us were laughing about how old we would be when the year 2000 rolled around.  It seemed like that was eons away and we would never grow old.

Of course, there are the things that no one told us about getting older.  They didn't tell us about our hair.  That one day, it may fall out, or get thin AND it was going to change color, all by itself.  They didn't tell us that same hair would also decide to grow in places it never had before. This is especially true for women. Maybe it just got tired of being on top of ones head and thought it would look much nicer on top of the upper lip, or perhaps the chin. It would also decide that is was not necessary to grow on the legs anymore.  Those who thought this was maybe not a bad idea are usually those that find one 3 inch hair, sticking straight up, off the top of a knee, the first time they don a pair of shorts for summer....after they are already in some public place.

They didn't tell us about our skin.  The once taught organ, that we thought defined us into warriors of our time, somehow lost some of its elasticity.  We never knew that over the years, gravity would take its toll and begin to pull, ever so slightly, on our precious covering.  Making it look longer than it should be and even allowing it to fold over on itself, like a blanket.  Hanging upside down, like a bat, might have helped that situation, but no one told us that either.

They didn't tell us to take care of our knees, and other joints.  That they could become swollen and ache.  No one stressed upon us that these things were necessary, in order to continue to carry us around, from place to place, point A to point B.  But, we were invincible, that would never happen to us.  Not those teenagers, standing in that foyer, with the world by the tail.  Maybe someone did try to tell us but, like the lyrics of a song, "they did not listen, they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now".  'Now' comes much later.

There are all kinds of things available today to combat these changes in our physique.  Lotions, potions, surgeries with plastic.  Exercise, diets, bikes, treadmills.  The ones that have worked the best for me have been the ability to close my eyes and still be, on the inside, that girl in the foyer, avoiding mirrors and bathroom scales.  But, there is always something or someone to help remind us, or slap us back to reality.  I was on the receiving end of this very thing, not too long ago.

My two youngest grandsons were helping me move my art studio, again.  The oldest, nearly 16, of this duo was taking a break, sitting in my desk chair.  I reached over the top of the desk to retrieve some old photos.  An old friend had sent them to me.  She had run across them during a recent downsizing of she and her husbands' space. (That's another thing they didn't tell us, that we really don't need a bunch of stuff.)  Anyway, they were pictures of several young girls, frolicking in their pajamas during their stay at a cheerleading camp.  I tossed the pictures in front of my grandson.  He picked them up, laughed and then began to study each one.  He looked at me and said, "G, who are these girls?"  I didn't respond, just smiled.

He was laughing about one girl, in her one piece pajamas, complete with the drop seat in the back.  "G!  Who is this?"  By this time, he's nearly snorting.

I smiled once again and said, "Me."

His mouth fell open, his eyes were as wide as saucers as he gave the photo another close inspection.  Then, with all the sincerity of his youth, he looked at me and spoke these words...."G, what happened!?" 

LOL!, I have no idea.

The DA in the TPA

A recent meme floating around on social media platforms stated:  "I'm using lettuce for toilet paper.  Today was the tip of the iceberg, tomorrow romaines to be seen."  Yes, it's a bit gross, but funny none the less.  The recent pandemic in the toilet paper industry is a real mystery.  No  one seems to have the exact answer as to why the shelves, in stores across the nation, have been wiped (no pun intended) clean of all toilet paper and anything papery that may be considered a facsimile of said coveted white roll. Maybe there is some new craft idea, floating around the web, that is making coffee and end tables out of the mega packs of toilet paper.  My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, would have never been caught up in this toilet paper madness.  The stairwell in her house, that led to the second story, which was rarely used after her children left the nest, was so full of toilet paper that one could have easily been buried by a TP avalanche at any given time of the year.  Every time I inquired as to why she had so much of it, she would always reply, "It was on sale!"  Smart lady.

One of the items people like to swap for toilet paper are the wet wipes.  This incredible feat of mankind started out for use on babies but soon became popular with people of all ages.  They have also become unpopular with a certain sector of the public, the plumber.  Why?  Because people flush them down the toilet....BUT, it is printed right on the side of the package, 'flushable', so what seems to be the problem?

Playing the devil's advocate, yes, they are flushable.  So are fish, small hamsters, jewelry, Matchbox cars, other small toys, socks, disposable diapers and money.  Indeed, if it will swirl round and round and then go down, it's flushable.  What many do not understand is that just because it can no longer be seen in the bowl, does not mean its sailing happily down the sewer system.  What can happen, using this flushing logic, is that these things, that do not disintegrate quickly, if ever, get lodged in the sewer pipe and can then cause all that flushing madness to come back to haunt the flusher.  Nothing better than to see it again, in the bowl, or better yet, on the bathroom floor, making it's way to the next room....usually in the middle of the night. 

Let's give the plumbers a break.  Let's not play the Devil's Advocate in this Toilet Paper Apocalypse and use some common sense.  Not only will the plumbers be happy, so will the front lawn that didn't need to be dug up from the house to the street.  

The Reset Button

Many electronic devices have a reset button.  It is usually a very tiny apparatus, located in some extremely obscure place on the device and can only be pressed with something tiny, like the end of a straightened paperclip.  Probably the most recognizable reset button is the little square that sits quietly between the two electrical ports on a GFI outlet.  Those are the outlets located closest to areas that are wet, like kitchens and bathrooms.

Pressing a reset button does just what its name implies.  It puts whatever the device is back to its original starting place.  In theory, it makes it just like it was, before ever being used.

Life has a way of hitting our reset buttons.  Recently, my better half and I had the opportunity to leave the city of Raleigh, North Carolina, a place we had called 'home' for four years.  Things were changing.  The apartment complex had been sold and when that reset button was pressed, nothing was as it was before.  Familiar faces and co-workers disappeared, tenants were leaving en masse and the place literally came to a grinding halt.  

A new opportunity arose.  A job offer.  The offer was from a place I call the "Beautiful Land of Pike".  Home.  Another reset button had been pushed.  We scrambled our belongings together, shoved them into a Uhaul truck and 18 hours later, we were home.  We arrived just in time to celebrate the end of the year holidays with family and friends.

Right before we bid Raleigh, NC farewell and during his last week of employment there, my husband hurt his back at work.  He and a refrigerator did not see eye to eye, while one moved the other, from  the back of a truck, down a ramp, in the rain.  Thinking it was just a wrenched back, he went to the chiropractor.  For a reason, unbeknownst to us at the time, the pain in his back did not go away and began to radiate around his ribs and across his stomach.  

Another reset button was about to be pushed.  The result of this was not going to be setting us back to normal because in the first week of February, we found out he has multiple myeloma, a blood cancer that likes to eat bones.  As of yet, this is not a curable disease, but treatable.  Its prognosis though, for a man who has worked with his hands and tools all of his adult life, was rather bleak.  Nothing heavier than 5 pounds can be lifted and, among other things, ladders are off limits.  

This reset certainly was not what we were looking forward to, but, it has made us reset our own thought process.  We have discovered that even though somethings are out of the picture, activity wise, others can be learned.  He can take a walk, with the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, Runtly, and they do so daily.  In fact, I've nearly lost my "he's my dog" status because Runtly rarely leaves his side.  He can read a book, run the sweeper and a dust mop, fix his own breakfast and learn Sudoku.  This last accomplishment is a work in progress.  It has given reason to rise early in the morning, to beat the next puzzle, or tearing the sheet out of the book, telling it what he thinks of it and slam dunking it into the trash.

Our lives, like the lives of so many others who face one of the many varieties of this disease, have changed.  It will not be exactly the way it was and we can only do one day at a time.  It has a weird comparison to what is going on in the world today.  There is a disease spreading around the globe.  It has put the entire population at a near standstill.  People are perplexed and some are afraid.  Perhaps planet Earth has hit the reset button.  Maybe it's a time for change, to not take things for granted, to learn new things, to take one day at a time. 

From The Desk of The Dog

Hello everyone!  It's Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier....JRT for short!  It has been so long since I have shared my adventures and boy howdy, do I have some adventures to share!

First, me and Mom and Dad have moved!  Mom says I'm not supposed to list myself first or use so many 'ands'.  I don't know what she is talking about, it's pretty clear than I'm #1 in the family AND what's the big deal with AND?  Anyway, we have moved to what Mom calls the Wonderful Land of Pike, I just call it home.  We used a great big truck to come back and I sat in the front seat, on Mom's lap.  We didn't stop, except when I needed to, and I stayed awake almost the whole trip!  Mom finally gave me a treat that has hemp in it.  I don't know much about that, but Mom says I said "far out" a lot for the remainder of the trip.  

I live in the country now and I LOVE it!  I can run and run and run and run!  I be looking pretty fit too, cos' all that runnin' makes for some mighty fine looking muscles.  I can bark all I want too!  I bark in the morning, afternoon, nighttime and at 3o'clock in the morning.  That last one usually gets me in trouble, but I'm sure there might be something out there in the dark that needs a good barking.

I have a new friend too.  I've known him for awhile, but this is the first time we have got to spend lots of time together.  His name is Max and he is a giant German Shepard.  He makes about 10 of me, but he is a gentle giant....until that time he put his giant paw on me to try to slow me down.  I let him know that was not acceptable in my book.  We have only had one fight.  I sorta came out on the short end of the bone too.  It was over a whiffle ball.  Max had it, I wanted it.  The next thing I knew, my head was in Max's mouth.  I even have a boo boo on my nose, right between my eyes, for proof.  Max's mom and my mom say we can't play whiffle ball anymore.

I live by some water now.  It's way bigger than the puddle we lived next to in the big city.  Mom says this water is called a lake.  Me and Mom walked down to the water the other day.  Mom says she likes to go there to ponder.  I don't know what that means, I just like to go to sniff new smells and perhaps find something delightful to roll in.  Mom makes me wear my shock collar when we go.  See, I hear just find, but everyone says I don't listen.  Humans are so confusing at times.  So, we went to the big water and as usual, I went off to explore, ahead of Mom.  When Mom got to the edge of the water, I was no where to be seen.  Mom said she listened for the sound of rustling leaves and there was no noise.  Mom called me and she pressed the button on the remote for the shock collar, still nothing.  Umm, that's another thing about humans, they think we canines don't know why sometimes the shock collar just makes a noise or sometimes it bites.  I could hear Mom calling me and I could see her.  Every once in awhile, when I was close enough, I could even hear the collar make a noise.  See, it had been really cold for a few days, before this adventure and all the water had turned white.  It was white and cold and slippery and made for some great new territory to explore.  Mom says the water was frozen.  She says that she caught something moving out of the corner of her eye and it was me.  Way out on the frozen lake, just emerging from the fog that was beginning to rise off the ice.  We had to go back to the house after that, Mom said I ruined her ponder time.  The next time she went, I didn't get to go.  Mom is mean.

Mom says enough adventure sharing for the time being.  Besides, there's a leaf moving outside in the breeze and I'm sure it needs a barking!  Woof!

Just Like That

It seems like eons since I've let my fingers caress the keyboard.  Why I do that is anyone's guess.  Writers, good writers, write.  They write everyday.  I could make the excuse that I write in my head on a daily, 24/7 schedule, but that does not count.

Life, or our journey through this plane of existence, does one thing.  It continues.  It continues on for each and every one of us, regardless of what we may or may not be going through.  It waits for no one, it stops for no one. 

Things happen along the journey that can throw a wrench in the gears, but all in all, our reaction to those particular curve balls is part and parcel the whole of the sum.  How did we handle some of the trials?  How much attention did we pay to the times that were so smooth it felt as if we were cruising on an endless highway with the top down? That one favorite song blasting through the speakers.

Is it the trials that shape us?  Do they hone us like a stone to the blade?  Or, do they shred us like the blade to grass?  Perhaps both.  It is whatever we allow ourselves to feel.  We can either react with emotion or logic.  It does not seem fair to think that it is merely a decision to be made....by us.

Right now, I'm walking that fine line between emotion and logic and it's breadth is about as fine as frog hair.  Its length seems to be endless.  But, I'm not alone.  "Legion, for we are many.", comes to mind.

Just like that, in the blink of an eye, things change.  We must choose to sink or swim and no matter which we decide, life goes on.

Like It Or Not, It Works the Same Way

Once upon  a time, I was walking to a house to return something I had borrowed.  As soon as I turned into the direction of the house, I could feel it.  A true sense of foreboding.  I felt it the entire way and when I arrived, my intuition had not let me down.  The occupants were in the middle of a nasty disagreement.  I left said borrowed item and made a fast retreat.  It was a true demonstration of cause and effect.  What the cause of the argument was, I was never sure, but the effect it had sent out far reaching vibrations.
There are many people who have had similar experiences, such as walking into a place and instantly feeling that something wasn't quite right. 

This set of circumstances brings up prayer.  What exactly is it?
The dictionary defines prayer as a devout petition, or communion with God, or an object of worship.  Some prayers are spoken out loud, but many are simply conveyed by our thought process.  Praying and meditation has many outcomes.  Miraculous healings  are believed to have happened by the power of prayer.  Meditation has been proved to even lower crime in a specific area.  The evidence seems to point to the fact that like minded people can have an impact on surroundings and others.  It proves that thoughts are more than mere brain matter shenanigans.  It proves that they travel faster than speech.  Couples, who have been together for a long time, frequently have the exact same thought at the exact same time because they are so in tune with each other.

We usually associate prayer and meditation with good things.  It is during this time we seek out positive, helpful outcomes.   For instance, what would happen if everyone gathered together, or set aside a particular time of the day, to devote several minutes to think about the eradication of a certain disease?  Would that bring about a cause and effect of the greatest kind?  What if this was done daily or for a week, a month, a year?  What kind of wonderful things could be achieved by like minded minds?   

So, what happens when this scenario is turned around?  What happens when the thoughts are not so pleasant?  Do they have an effect on our surroundings? Do they have an effect on other people?  When the talk around the coffee shop is about the latest person who has the dreaded "C" word, does that help that person?  When we talk about getting the "C" word, does that put us in its path?  Do you think that the person who talked about getting "C" from the time they were in high school and then died from it at a very early age was merely a coincidence?  Does the old proverb about what a person thinks, he becomes, have any merit here?

There are all kinds of studies in quantum physics that prove that thoughts have direct impact on whatever the subject of the thought might be.  Think about that.  It works the same way.

Love's Story

She opened her eyes, rolled over and stared at the clock on the nightstand.  5:30 a.m.  She rolled to her back, took a deep breath and tried to clear her thoughts.  It started at 9.  It would take her at least two hours to get to the auditorium, that meant she would need to leave by 7.  It would take at least 2 hours to get herself and Maria ready.  That meant she was already running behind.  Bolting from the bed, she was thankful that she had set out their clothes the night before.  

The light in the bathroom flickered as it came to life and she hoped it was not on  its last leg.  After a few seconds, the bulb's light stayed steady and provided her enough light to continue.  She tried to be quiet, while going through the morning routine.  She needed to be completely ready to walk out the door before she woke Maria.

The weather had turned a bit cooler, but the hooded sweatshirt she had picked out would be enough to keep her warm for the trip and not too much for the warmer weather predicted for the afternoon.  Fall was always like that.  Cold in the morning, sweating shortly after noon.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face and lightly dampened her hair, just enough to make the wild ones be a little more tame.  She tiptoed back into the bedroom and grabbed the bluejeans that were on the end of the bed.  After she put them on, she threw the hoodie over her head, slipped her arms into the sleeves and stuck her feet into  her shoes.  Making one more stop at the bathroom, she brushed her curly mop of hair into the best ponytail she could master at that time of the day.

She went into the kitchen and fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut it in half, on the diagonal and put the halves in separate plastic storage bags.  Then she bagged up some dry cereal and  put all the bags into her backpack along with two bottles of water and three juice boxes.  That should be enough to get them there and back so they would not feel like they were starving by the time they got back home.  The clock read 6:30, it was time to wake Maria and the chances of that going well were slim to none.  Maria was not a morning person.

She tiptoed into Maria's bedroom and peered into the crib.  Maria looked like an angel to her as she reached her hand down to smooth the hair away from Maria's face.  "Good morning, sweet girl.", she whispered.  Maria did not budge.  Her mother gently rubbed Maria's face and spoke in a soft voice, "Maria, mommy needs for you to wake up.  Come on sweetheart, it's morning time."  Maria began to stir and swung her little arms up over her head. Her arms  were stiff and straight and her mother braced herself for what was about to happen.  Maria's eyes opened, she looked at her mother, wrinkled her brow and let out an ear piercing shriek that could probably be heard four stories down to the busy street below.  No, Maria was not a morning person, especially when she did not wake on her own.  Her mother waited until the shrieking subsided into sobs and then whisked her little daughter out of the crib, wrapped her arms around her and held her close to her chest.  Then she swayed back and forth while  softly singing  Camptown Races into Maria's ear, it was Maria's favorite.  By the time she reached the living room, Maria began to survey her surroundings as if she were seeing them for the first time.  Her mother laid her on the couch and quickly changed her diaper and was glad the Onesie and the one piece pajamas were still dry.  Two less things that had to be changed.  She glanced at the clock and gave a silent acknowledgement of thanks, she wasn't late after all.  She quickly put Maria into a one piece outer garment that looked like a sack with sleeves and a hood and zipped it closed.  Before Maria was able to kick herself off the couch, her mother had donned the backpack and scooped the kicking bundle back to the safety of her arms.  She pulled the hood up over Maria's head, kissed her cheek and went out the door of the apartment.  Once they were in the hallway, she locked the door then sprinted down the hall because she could hear the elevator leaving the above floor.  They arrived just in time to push the down button and the elevator doors slid open to greet them.  

Harvey Hannel was the only person on the elevator.  Harvey was 89 years old and lived on the 5th floor.  He had retired thirty years ago, but he never stopped getting up early.  "Kept him young", he would say, anytime someone suggested he should sleep in, or slow down.  

"Why good morning Sam!", Harvey said with his best smile. Then he crossed his arm over his mid section, bowed and gestured with the other arm for her to enter the elevator.  "You and Miss Maria are up very early this morning!"  

Samantha Ann Walston smiled at Harvey and stepped into the elevator.  She knew the lobby button had already been pushed, so she positioned herself and Maria into the back corner.  "Good morning to you Harvey!", she said.  

Harvey leaned over to peer into Maria's face.  Her big blue eyes were already sparkling with mischief.  There was something about Harvey Hannel that Maria liked and she waited for his usual greeting.  As if on cue from stage left, Harvey broke into song, one from the musical West Side Story.  "Maria, I just met a girl named Maria!", and without missing a note, his voice as crystal clear as it had been in his youth, he finished with Brooks and Dunns' "Maria, I love you!"  Maria squealed with laughter, clapped her tiny hands together and then held out her arms for Harvey to hold her.
Yes, there was something about Harvey Hannel.

Harvey held Maria for the ride down to the lobby.  He glanced at Sam and asked, "Where ye off to today lassie?", in his best Irish brogue.  She grinned at him.  Harvey was everyone's dad, grandpa, uncle or cousin.  

"We are going downtown, to the Conference Center.", Samantha answered. "There is a good speaker there and I'm hoping to get to meet him.  That's why we are up so early, we have to be there by 9."

Harvey nodded his approval.  The elevator began to groan, as it always did just before arriving at the ground floor. Harvey handed the wiggly Maria back to her mother.  When the doors slid open to the lobby, Harvey held the door open so Samantha and Maria could exit safely.  As he stepped out, turned and headed for the coffee maker, Harvey made another elegant bow and said, "Have a good day lassies!"  Samantha laughed, thanked him and walked toward the front door while Maria looked over her mother's  shoulder and waved her small hand in Harvey's direction.  Harvey waved back and blew her a kiss just before he disappeared around the corner.  Samantha could smell the aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafting through the lobby. 

The crisp morning air hit their faces and made them suck in their breath.  Samantha stopped, pulled the attached mittens down over Maria's hands and then tossed a thin blanket over her face.  Samantha turned into the wind and started the three block walk to the subway.  The scent of coffee made her wish she had grabbed a to-go cup, but that wasn't an option today.  At the end of the second block, the pair turned to the right.  Samantha could see the entrance to the subway at the end of the block and was thankful to be out of the wind.  

There were many morning commuters making their way to the steps that led down to the subway trains.  Samantha reached into her hooded sweatshirt pocket and pulled out her Quick Pass, a gift from her mother.  Mother had told her, "If you insist on living in a huge metropolis, then I insist on buying you a Quick Pass so you can navigate this place without me worrying about you!"  Samantha didn't realize at first how much she would appreciate the pass, but as she held it in her hand, waved it over the turnstile and walked onto the boarding ramp, she was most thankful.

They had arrived at the perfect time.  The cross city subway train was rumbling toward the station.  Samantha and Maria stood in the middle of a group of young business men, donned in their suits and over coats.  The train brakes could be heard screeching before the train itself could be seen.  A few moments later, the train groaned around the curve in the tunnel, as it made its final approach to the loading dock.  Sam could feel the vibration beneath her feet as the train slowed to a stop in front of all the people waiting to board.  The doors slid open and the young man standing in front of Samantha stepped to the side to let her enter first.  She smiled, thanked him and quickly entered the train car.  To her amazement, she found a bench seat that was completely empty.  She slid across the slick surface of the seat, next to the window.  Maria loved to watch the outside world glide by whenever they rode the subway.  They would be on this train for almost an hour.  As the train lunged forward and exited the station, Samantha tried to relax.  Maria already had her face as near the window as her mother would let her and her eyes grew big as she watched the city scene unfold before her.  

As the train lumbered in and out of tunnels and over bridges, Samantha let her mind drift back to a time when she thought everything in her life was perfect.  Tom immediately popped into her thoughts.  He was so sweet.  She had fallen for him before they had actually met.  That was so weird.  The first time she saw him, at the campus coffee shop, she was struck with the oddest feeling.  He was ordering a large, plain, black coffee.  His dark black hair was combed straight back and it hung in natural loose curls that framed his face and nearly touched his shoulders.  His facial features looked as if he had been chiseled out of stone, like some ancient Greek god.  When he turned towards her, their eyes met and his were the most beautiful sapphire blue she had ever seen.  Their gaze locked for what was surely a millisecond, but to her it seemed like an eternity.  He smiled and the rock hard look melted away to reveal an almost boyish look.  Then he passed her and made his way to the door.  She watched him leave and the very first thought that came to her, as he turned the corner and was out of sight, was "there goes my husband".  She had even laughed out loud at the absurd idea and when she did, the boy in front of her turned around and gave her a  look that said, "great, there's a wacko standing behind me".  Samantha stifled another giggle and rolled her eyes at the back of his head.

It was two weeks later, in the same coffee shop, when they met again.  Samantha was seated at a small corner table, working on her laptop.  It was nearly time for graduation and she was working on the last paper that was due before the end of the next week.  Once it was finished, she would feel like she could stop for a moment and catch her breath.  She reached for her coffee cup and took a sip.  She looked out the window and let her gaze stretch out across the campus lawn, not to look at anything in particular, but to stretch her eyes and give them a break from the laptop screen.  As she took another sip of the coffee, she brought her focus back into the coffee shop and glanced around the room.  Tom Walston was sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room and he was looking straight at her.  Their eyes locked again and even though she was trying to be as nonchalant as possible, she was so glad she had swallowed her coffee, otherwise she would have either choked or spewed.

His blue eyes sparkled and he rose from his seat and made his way to her table.  He was taller than she remembered, but she did not know why she thought that, he had not entered her mind again since their first encounter.  They never broke eye contact and as he reached her table, he smiled and asked her if the empty chair across from her was taken.  She smiled back at him, looked all around her table, even under it and answered, "Ummmmm, I don't think so."
He laughed out loud and that sound would forever remain etched into the deep recesses of her brain.  

They spent the next five hours sitting in that corner.  It felt as though they had known each other for a thousand years and had been apart for a thousand more.  There was so much to catch up on.
One month later, they had graduated college.  Two months later they had married and were moving to the city.  Six months after that, Samantha found out she was pregnant.

Maria had been babbling at all the passing cityscape as the subway train lumbered along the tracks.  She leaned against her mother, yawned and let out a sleepy sigh.  Samantha smiled at her, knowing that as much as Maria loved the sights and sounds of the city, the steady rumble and sway of the train always put her to sleep.  Sam let Maria slide down into the bend of her arm.  As she looked at her little daughter, she felt that same pang of emotion that had come over her when Maria was born.  If there was something wrong with her child, she could not see it.  Maria was beautiful.

The train pulled into the next station and Samantha watched as the people exited and entered in a frenzied dance of getting nowhere fast.  The doors finally slid closed and the train made its way to the next stop.  Samantha remembered that day.  The day Tom came home and found her curled up on the bed sobbing.  "Sam?  What's wrong?" He hurried over to the side of the bed and knelt down on the floor.  "Samantha!  What is wrong?" He pushed her long curly hair away from her tear stained face and realized by the puffiness of her eyelids that she had been crying for quite awhile.  She looked up at his face, so full of concern and wondered how she was going to tell him.  He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest and held her tight.  "Please Sam, tell me what is wrong."

"I went to the doctor today.", she choked out between sobs.  She knew there was no other way to do this.  They had always been honest with each other.  That was one of the things that had made their relationship work so well and so fast.  They shared their thoughts, always.  She took a deep breath and tried to stop the sobs that were nearly uncontrollable.  "There's something wrong with our baby."  The words crossed her lips in a whisper.  "There is a chance it has Down Syndrome."  She looked into his face.  That chiseled Greek god face of stone.  That face that made everything right when she thought it was wrong.  She wanted him to tell her it was all a mistake, that she had just misunderstood.  That she was dreaming and he would wake her and their wonderful happy life would be as it had always been.  But, what she saw was his beautiful sapphire blue eyes welling up in tears and those tears spilling down his cheeks.  They held each other for the longest time.  

For two days, they did not speak about it.  Almost as if by ignoring it, IT might go away.  On the third day, Tom walked into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Samantha at the bistro style table where she set looking out the window.  The steam was still rolling from her coffee cup so he knew she had not been up too long.  He slid into his chair and said, "When will you make the appointment?"  He was taking a sip of the coffee when she turned to look at him.  She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"What appointment?", she asked, noticing that the sapphire blue was particularly dark.

"With the doctor.", he answered.  "You know, for the abortion."

What happened next always replays in slow motion in her head.  She had looked at him as if she had never seen him before.  Surely she did not hear those words coming from his mouth.  Who was this person sitting across from her?  She tilted her head towards her shoulder, her long curly brown hair falling down the side of her face, hanging in mid air.  "What?"  She was still looking at him as if he were a total stranger.

"For the abortion."  He spoke the words so matter of factly.  There was no emotion in his voice.  

"What are you talking about?", she asked him quietly, but there was something stirring in the depths of her soul.

He looked at her for the longest time before he spoke again.  "Samantha, why would we bring a disabled child into this crazy world?  Think about what this will do to our lives, our plans.  Do you want a child that other people, other kids, will make fun of?  Do you think that is fair?"  

Although logic was just about to pack its bags and leave the building, she remembered thinking how Tom was always so logical, seeing things in black and white, with very little, if any, grey area.  But, that thought passed so quickly before her reaction surfaced.  Her face had become twisted in fear and anger as his words reached her ears.  By the time "fair" registered in her mind, the deep stirring erupted like some ancient, dormant volcano that had awakened from its long slumber.  "Fair?", she hissed at him.  "Life is fair?  What are you talking about?"

Tom's eyes had softened.  He folded his hands together on the table. "Sammy."  That was his last word as the lava burst into the air and flowed down the mountain side.

"Don't you freaking 'Sammy' me!", she screeched at him.  Sammy was the pet name he used when he needed to persuade her to his point of view.  She knew it and enjoyed the game, until now.  "Who in the hell made you judge and jury in this decision?  What on earth are you even thinking about, let alone talking about?  Abortion?  Seriously!  All of a sudden things are not convenient for you and you think you hold the power to make things okeedokee?  How could you possibly even think of deciding this without talking about it with me?  This is OUR child!  There is no way on God's green earth that I am having an abortion!"

Tom raised his hand to speak and she cut him off. "No!", she screamed, nearing hysteria.  She jumped out of her chair so fast that it fell over backwards with a loud thud on the tile floor. "There is no debate on this.  There is no decision to be made and don't you ever, ever mention this to me again!  I can't even believe this is happening!  I don't even know who you are"  She stormed out of the kitchen and stomped down the hall until she reached the spare bedroom.  She went in that room and slammed the door behind her so hard that the Starry Night poster fell off the wall.  She paced back and forth, wringing her hands.  What had just happened?  Was she dreaming?  Her hands fell to her slightly swollen belly.  "Don't you worry little baby, I will protect you."

Two weeks passed without one word between them.  It was the absolute worst existence.  How could you love someone so much and be so angry at them at the same time.  

The next Monday, Tom came home to an eerie silence.  One much worse than the silent tension that had been between them.  Samantha was gone.  When he opened the closet door in their bedroom, it felt like a dagger had been plunged into his chest.  Sam's side of the closet was empty.  She did not even leave a note.

The subway train lurched to one side as it began to slow its approach to the next station and brought Samantha out of her deep memory.  She glanced around and realized this was their last stop.  Looking down at her sweet sleeping baby, she slipped Maria's hood over her head and hoisted her up on her shoulder.  Maria didn't even squirm, the subway train was like a magic carpet ride.  As the train slowed to a stop, Samantha scooted to the outer edge of the seat and held onto the pole for support while she stood up.  The train car was nearly empty as most of the commuters had exited at the last stop, which had placed them in the heart of the business center.  Samantha exited the train with her sleeping bundle and made her way to the steps.  As they reached the top step, warm sunshine greeted them and the wind had slowed to a light breeze.  Samantha walked to the end of the block and crossed the street to the left.  One more block and then a right turn and they would be at their destination.  As she got nearer to the last turn, she saw them.  The people.  There were people standing in line at the corner.  She wondered what in the world was going on as she walked out around the crowd and turned the corner.  She took just a few more steps when the reality of the situation hit her.  The long line of people led all the way down the block to the entrance of the Convention Center.  

She stopped and stared in disbelief.  Turning to the crowd, a young woman caught her gaze.  Samantha took a breath and asked, "Are you waiting in line for the Convention Center?"  The woman nodded yes.  "To see Joshua James?", Sam asked again.  Again, the woman nodded yes and Samantha could only mouth the word "Wow".  The young woman grinned.  Samantha had no other option but to go to the end of the line and wait.

She had been following Joshua James on YouTube for some time.  He was some kind of mystic guru type, a healer of sorts.  He wasn't particularly a religious icon, as he cared little for organized religion, but he had a following that would have put the biggest churches in the city to shame.  His message was unusually simple, be kind to one another.  Especially when a person felt like kindness was the least of what they were feeling.  The most amazing attribute that held Samantha's fascination was the amount of love Joshua James held for everyone he encountered.  Of course, all the critics said he was a fake and was merely in it for the money, but Sam had done her research.  Everything she could find showed her that Joshua James led a pretty simple life and that nearly all the money he earned went to various charities.  He had no personal assistants, or help of any kind.  He drove an old Chevy pick up truck and whatever sound equipment he needed was in the back of the truck.  But, when Joshua James spoke, his voice was like a healing potion.  People listened to him.  He did not prance around or put on a show from the pulpit.  He usually set in a chair, at the front of a stage and spoke his message of love, hope and healing.  The only time he left the chair was to walk among the crowd and embrace someone who was truly in need of that embrace.  When she saw that he was coming to the city, Samantha knew she had to see him.

Looking at the long line of people, that had not moved, Sam began to feel the pangs of defeat.  At the rate things were going, it would be noon before she made it to the door.  The event only lasted two hours and would be over by 11:00.  She glanced at the clock across the street on the front of First Bank Limited.  It was 8:45.  She made her way back to the end of the line.  

The crowd was mostly quiet.  Samantha jostled Maria, who was now wide awake, from one hip to the other.  She wished she had grabbed the baby sling, it would have given her arms a brake.  Maria watched the people and the passing traffic.  She was getting hungry and began to fuss.  The line had moved only a few feet.  Sam noticed a bench on the sidewalk about half way the distance to the Convention Center doors.  She asked the people standing around her if they would hold her space in line while she went to the bench to feed Maria.  Everyone agreed and urged her to go.  

When she set down on the bench she was grateful for the sunshine and the opportunity to give her arms a rest.  She wrestled Maria on her lap and reached into the backpack for the cereal.  Maria squealed with glee, as she always did, at the sight of the cereal.  Sam opened the zip lock bag and held out a palm full of the crispy O's.  Maria plucked one piece from her mother's hand, examined it closely, like she always did and then, being satisfied it really was what she thought it was, plopped it into her mouth.  She did this with every piece and some of the people in line smiled at her careful inspection.  In the mean time, Samantha had opened one of the juice boxes and held the straw for Maria to take a sip.  Maria had mastered a straw very quickly and loved juice boxes, Pure Pear was her favorite.  

Samantha sighed as she watched the line of people move ever so slowly.  She knew there was no way she would get in to see Joshua James.  She pulled Maria's hood off and rustled the mop of black curls.  Maria had her mothers curls, but the color was definitely from her father.  As she gently separated the curls with her fingers, a young man approached her, "Do you mind if I sit a bit?" he asked.  Sam looked up and waved her empty hand towards the end of the bench.  He sat down and unzipped his jacket.  "Now that the sun is shining and the wind is not blowing, it has gotten quite warm out here."  He spoke as if he was just talking to himself, but again, Sam nodded that she agreed.  

Talking with strangers was not something she would normally do, but there seemed to be nothing alarming about this guy.  He was young, probably 20 and had short blonde hair that was spiked up slightly in the front.  He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head, revealing pale green eyes and stretched out his hand towards her.  "Hello, my name is Dan.  Are you here to see JJ?"

Samantha accepted his handshake and quizzed, "JJ?"

"Joshua James.", Dan answered.

She smiled and laughed at herself for not knowing the obvious about the letters.  "Yes.", she answered back, "but from the looks of this crowd, I do not think it will happen."

Dan looked up at the long line of people, then turned his attention back to Samantha and Maria.  "What a beautiful baby you have!", he exclaimed.  "All those curls!"

Samantha smiled again and thanked him.  Then, out of the blue, he asked, "She has Down Syndrome, right?"

Immediately, Samantha felt uncomfortable.  She looked at Dan, or whoever he was, with total disbelief and shock.  Her expression was equally shocking to Dan.  The smile left her face as she answered, "That is none of your business!"  

He held up his hands in defense, "I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to be rude.  My little brother has Downs, that's is why I asked."  "I'm terribly sorry!  I meant you no harm!  Just trying to make conversation!  Please, forgive me!", Dan stammered.

Yes, Maria did have Down Syndrome.  Her little ears had a slight bend at the top, her eyes had an upward slant and the bridge of her nose was nearly flat.  Samantha knew all these things, but to her, Maria looked like any other child.  Samantha regretted her initial response.  Her face softened as she asked, "So, your little brother has Downs?"

"Oh yes, Bradly has Down Syndrome."  From that point, Dan had Samantha's attention as he told her of all the antics he and his little brother would do, despite Bradly having a handicap.  "I never thought of it that way.  He was, and is, my brother and that is the way I always see him.  It might have taken him a bit longer to understand or learn something, but once it clicked, he would never forget.  Actually, in a sense, he's blessed.  He has to work really hard to put it all together.  The rest of us take for granted the things we learn so quickly and without effort."  

Samantha understood what Dan meant.  At six months, Maria was still working on rolling over.  She could do it throwing a fit, but to make it happen on her own was still a struggle.  As Dan ended another tale of mischief that he and Bradly had pulled off, Maria asked him why he had come to see Joshua James.  'Oh, no particular reason.  I like to listen to him on YouTube and thought it would be a treat to hear him in person.  What about you? "

Maria took a deep breath and wondered if Dan really wanted to know the answer to that question.  She looked back at the line of people.  It had moved some, but not nearly enough for her to get to the doors before 11.  She looked back at Dan and decided for once, she would throw caution to the wind.  What did she have to lose?  She would most likely never see this young man again in her lifetime.

Samantha started at the beginning.  It seemed so long ago that she was standing in another line, waiting to order a cup of coffee when she saw his face.  That face she had instantly fallen in love with.  She told Dan about all the fun and wonderful things she and Tom had done.  Their wedding, on the beach, in the rain.  It wasn't just rain, it was a downpour.  But, they had laughed their way through it as they spoke their vows under a makeshift cover that consisted of a tarp thrown over the wedding canopy.  Then there was the move to the city.  They had looked at so many apartments and then settled on the very first one.  It was small, had two bedrooms and although the kitchen window was small, the view it offered of the city sky line was too good to pass up.  They were so in love and so happy and so excited when they discovered that Samantha was pregnant. Samantha suddenly grew quiet. 

"And?", Dan asked, totally immersed in her story.

"And, when we knew our baby was going to have Down's, Tom wanted me to 'abort the mission'."  She turned her head to look at Dan and finished her story, "I could not do that, so I left."  Samantha  looked away as a tear slid down her cheek.  

Dan sat quietly, wondering if she were going to continue.  "And?", he asked again.

"And there is nothing left to tell." Samantha said.  "I left.  I did not tell Tom goodbye, or leave a note or anything.  I took my clothes and walked out the door one day while he was at work.  I turned my phone off because he would not stop calling me.  I was so afraid he would convince me to have an abortion that I could not bear to hear his voice.  He left so many messages.  He pleaded with me to come home.  He apologized a thousand times.  He told me how much he loved me."  Samantha wiped at the tears that were now flowing freely down her face.  "I left him and I decided to be a martyr.  I felt like I had to do this all on my own, that I had been betrayed at the deepest level of existence."  She stopped talking.  Dan said nothing.  The silence held no comfort and as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hooded sweatshirt, she blurted out "And I was wrong to do that!"  The floodgate burst as she broke into sobs that wracked her very core.  

Dan had moved closer to her on the bench.  Maria had found him very interesting but the sounds coming from her mother made her turn to see what was going on.  Dan reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced a folded handkerchief.  He held it out in Samantha's direction until she saw it.  "Here," he said, "It'll save your sleeve."  

He was smiling at her, but not mockingly.  It was more a look of concern.  She tried to laugh, even though it sounded much more like a loud snort and took the handkerchief.  She unfolded it, put it to her nose and looked back at Dan.  "Sorry", she said before noisily blowing her nose.  Dan laughed and told her he had several,  she could consider that one a gift.

"What did you want to see Joshua James for?" Dan asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know.", Sam sighed.  "I guess I wanted to see if he could fix the mess.  The mess I made.  To right all the wrongs.  I wanted to ask him if he could make things better.  If there was a way back to that happy place in my life.  I wanted to ask him if forgiveness was an option for what I have done.

The first time I heard him speak, I wanted to ask him to heal my baby.  She wasn't even born yet and I thought if she could be born perfect, or normal, that everything would be OK.  Then, when she was born, she was perfect.  At least to me she was and I wondered if her daddy would ever be able to see her that way.  Every time I think of that moment, I realize that I never gave him the chance. What I took from him can never be given back.  It was the wrong thing to do but, what's done is done."

She looked back at Dan, he was still smiling at her while trying to entertain Maria with the empty juice box.  "I don't think you need Joshua James to fix this.  Turn your phone back on and call your husband."  He did one more trick with the box and Maria giggled.

"I don't think it's as easy as that.", Samantha said, looking down in her lap.  She fidgeted with the handkerchief, wadding it into the shape of a ball.  "I don't think Tom will ever be able to...", her words fell silent as she looked up.  Dan was gone.  She looked down the sidewalk, then the opposite direction.  There was no sign of him.  "What the hell just happened?", she said out loud.

Suddenly, Samantha realized how incredibly quiet it was.  She looked up and down the sidewalk.  Where were all the people who had been standing in line?  They were gone.  Everyone was gone.  She spun around on the bench and looked at the bank clock.  It read 12:00.  What on earth was going on?  She looked at Maria, happily chomping on the side of the juice box, inspecting her chomp mark and repeating the process.  Samantha started grabbing all the items she had taken out of the backpack and pushed them back into it as fast as she could.  She put one arm through the strap and hoisted the pack onto her back as she picked up Maria with her other arm.  She stood there, still perplexed by what had happened.  How could she have lost track of that much time and what had happened to Dan?

She looked towards the Convention Center, the door was still open.  She walked that way, but was not sure why.  Everyone was gone.  She entered the building and the main foyer was as empty as the sidewalk.  There was an easel with a sign that read: Joshua James This Way, with an arrow pointing to a door at the far end of the foyer.  She walked in that direction even though she knew all the people were gone.  When she arrived at the door, it was open and she stepped into a large auditorium.  It was filled with chairs from one wall to the other, all of which were empty.  As she looked to the front of the room, she saw two people.  How had she not seen them when she walked in?  A man was standing, bent over, talking to the other person who was sitting in the chair.  The person in the chair had their head nearly between their knees, as if they were about to pass out.   Just as she was getting ready to turn and walk out, the voice of the man talking reached her ears.  Her eyes grew wide.  She knew the voice!  It was Joshua James!  He was still there!  

Samantha wasn't sure what to do next.  Should she stay?  Would it be outlandish to think he would have time for her?  Was she intruding?  After all, the person in the chair looked as though they were in dire need.  She was all set to leave when Joshua James looked up and met her gaze.  Even from that distance, she could feel the intensity of his eyes.  She felt as if she had been caught red handed, in the middle of committing some other worldly crime.

Joshua James smiled at her and motioned for her to come forward.  Samantha looked behind her.  Surely someone else had entered the room without her noticing.  That would be possible considering the other weird phenomenon that was taking place.  There was no one but herself and Maria.  She looked toward Joshua again and again he motioned for her to come.  She held Maria just a little tighter as she slowly made her way down the isle, surrounded by hundreds of empty chairs.  When she reached the last row, she stopped and again, he motioned for her to come closer.  

From where she was standing, she could tell the person in the chair was certainly distraught.  Their back was heaving, as if trying to catch their breath.  Perhaps they were even crying.  She could not figure out why Joshua James was wanting her to come closer.  Was this some kind of twisted game?  Was he some kind of crazy man who preyed on naive people?  Maybe that was his claim to fame.  Maybe he didn't care about the money, maybe he just liked to feel embolden by all of the attention he got wherever he went.  She was just about to turn and run when she watched Joshua bend over and speak to the person in the chair again.  Samantha turned her head to the side, what was it that was so familiar about that person?  The person raised their head and ran their hands through their hair.  Dark black hair cascaded down to their shoulders.  

The person stood up from the chair and at Joshua's coaxing, turned towards Samantha.  Samantha's breath caught in her throat.  This cannot be real, she thought, I must be dreaming.  There before her, looking into her eyes was the chiseled face of a Greek god who looked as if he had been severely beaten by whatever opponent he had been to battle with.  His sapphire blue eyes were all but visible between the eyelids that were nearly swollen shut. 

Her feet were moving and she could not make them stop.  She drew closer to him, as if to confirm what she already knew.  It was Tom.
She stopped when she realized she had gotten close enough for him to recognize her.  The silence in the auditorium was so deafening that it reverberated off the walls, only to crash into itself again in the middle of the room.  Samantha did not know what to do.  She stood as still as she possibly could and then she turned Maria around to face him.  Tom looked into the mirror image of his own eyes.  Two sapphire blue eyes, surrounded by curls of dark black hair, stared back at him.  Maria's eyes widened and a smile crept across her tiny face.  Then, when the silence was about to reach a crescendo and bring the entire room crashing down around them, Maria spoke her very first words.  "Da Da."  

Tom closed the distance between them in three long strides and fell to his knees.  He looked into his daughters' eyes and then to her mothers.  As Samantha reached out to touch his face, they both spoke, "I'm so sorry.", in unison.

How he got there, neither of them knew.  Joshua James stood between them and had placed a hand on each of their shoulders.  Smiling, he looked at  them and said, "I believe you two have a lot to catch up on.  Take your time, this room is reserved until 5 o'clock this afternoon."   Then he patted their shoulders, picked up his box of sound equipment and left them.  Together.