Is That All There Is?

July 30, 2021

Dear me, 

This letter is to the future you, written as a response to a prompt from a wonderful group of writers called The Lightning and the Lightning Bug.  In May of 2011, this site was in its growing stages and today, it has become one of the top websites for creative writers on the Internet.  I’m so privileged to be a part of it, still.

Your book, Another cookie, please!, is finally a published work and that dream of leaving it behind for your family has become a reality.  Well, it sure took you long enough!  In past years, your dear friend,  No. 7,  managed to produce three published works, along with another, waiting in the wings, since earning her MFA in Creative Writing, not that I’m trying to criticize you for dragging your heels for so long.

Well, in a way, I am…

Time, that’s your main focus these days, more than ever.  Life is winding down but you need to stop allowing it to consume you, fearing that dementia will creep in and destroy the person you are.  Stop!  You aren’t your mother, just go right over to that big mirror and look at you…in your seventies and your Grand-kids still think that you are one cool Gramma.  Rejoice in that, will you!  Make use of the years that lie ahead, don’t close your mind to new experiences or deprive your family of valued memories that are waiting to happen.

Ten years ago, you didn’t think there would be much of a future as our nation shuddered under the threat of a significant debt crisis.  The dreams you and John shared about vacations and a second home were slowly disappearing as you struggled to maintain a business…and a life.  For a long time, it seemed as if there would be nothing to look forward to as you merely existed, from day to day.

It hasn’t been easy and now you’re  busy packing up years of belongings as you prepare a bittersweet move to what’s often called “God’s Waiting Room”…. Florida.  Not a place you are particularly fond of with its only redeeming quality being the fact that your oldest daughter and family live there.  You will be leaving loved ones behind, four seasons which you cherish and heading for a state with almost constant sunshine, roads dotted with cars driven by headless drivers along with turn signals that blink constantly as they head for some restaurant buffet line, armed with Ziploc bags.  Just think…you will be able to make up for so much missed time with your Florida Grandsons and do all the special things that both boys love about you, even now that they’re older. 

Let’s face it, you never really cared for Putnam County and the town where you built this first home.  In all these years, the same, twisted politics still dominate the quality of life here and the educational system hasn’t progressed much past what it was back in the late eighties.  In thirty-five years, you’ve made acquaintances but very few friends that you deem close.  Patty, you have always been a loner, of sorts; happiest when some type of creation is dancing through your head on its way to your fingertips.

The house is sold and you spend time walking the property, stopping by the little plot of land where your beloved pets rest in their eternal sleep.  You stand on the little bridge down by the brook which is gently roaring due to all the rain lately.   In the backyard, those towering Willow trees bend gracefully in the breeze and John complains that, someday, they’re going to land on the house; he’s been saying that for the past thirty years.  You don’t care, after all, that will be the new owners problem.   Secretly, you hope they have better luck with gardens, flowers and the deer who eat everything that doesn’t eat them first!

As you read this, your mind keeps jumping to those damned thoughts of time, especially..quality time.  The clock on the wall, at times, seems to never move but the pages on the calendar in your office move all too quickly.   Thoughts of how many more years of being needed and functional before really old age strikes with a vengenance and renders you immobile, or unwanted?   Honey, if we all had those answers, we would have the ability to plan the back nine of our lives so much better.  Sad truth is, there are no guarantees.   Life just happens and some things, you can do little to change.  Just make good use of all that is in front of you; keep your mind sharp and that body in motion.     

Don’t give up on that dream about visiting Positano, there’s still plenty of time to hop a flight and head for the Amalfi Coast; make the trip with Emma and Jake when they graduate from college.  Plan some memorable excursions with teen-agers Matt and Jaden; teach them how to drive standard-shift as only you can do.

Let go of your many regrets and find some elusive inner peace with all the positive things that surround you.

Be patient with John.  Work has consumed his entire life, leaving little room for anything else.  The two of you are growing older, together; it hasn’t always been easy but not many couples can boast being married for almost fifty-one years.

Cook, paint and, most importantly, Write!  Keep doing all the things that bring your family pleasure and give you so much personal satisfaction.

Keep in mind that the best still is yet to come and….play this song….

I’ll get back to you… five years from now.

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Those un-friendly skies…

This is my response to a prompt from For The Love Of BlogsPrompt Me…writers workshop about…Flying.

 

My worst flying experience began a few years back as I stepped onto a Delta flight that was scheduled to leave Tampa. 

                       

Scheduled…the operative word. 

Okay, I’ll be fair; it was a hot and stormy July evening, typical of Florida weather.  Not the fault of Delta, or any other airline.  Rain rolls in fairly often every afternoon but usually clears within a short period of time.

Not that night. 

Bolts of lightning shot out of the sky like fireworks as our pilot announced a delay to the fully loaded flight that was to return to New York…after a connection in Atlanta.  So…we sat.. for a solid hour in that aircraft as temperatures started to climb  and tempers started to flare due to faulty air conditioning.  One more announcement came from the cockpit that we would soon be taxiing out for takeoff and we were like #22 in the long line of flights waiting to depart.

At that point,  I’m sure that pilot was fearing that the passengers were about to declare a mutiny but his announcement managed to bring some calm to the packed cabin.  We prepared for take-off.

                      

Suddenly, another storm, worse than its predecessor, lit up the evening sky and rain came down in torrents.  We sat through one more delay that lasted more than 45 minutes as the pilot instructed the flight attendants to pass out bottled water to everyone.

They ran out, three quarters of the way through the aircraft and when passengers asked for soda, the attendants claimed that they could not distribute cans of soda until we were in the air.  WTF?

                                               

People started demanding to be returned to the gate, things were getting ugly.    One flight attendant made the mistake of getting “snippy” with all who were complaining, arguing loudly with one irate passenger when the pilot again announced we were ready to fly the un-friendly skies.

A 6:30 p.m. departure was now approaching almost 9 p.m. as we joined the long line of bumper-to-bumper jet traffic waiting to take-off and finally, we were airborne!  The flight to Atlanta was un-eventful but the cloud of passenger dissent was everywhere.

We landed at Hartsfield Airport (another nightmare that makes O’Hare Airport look good, even on a bad day) and were told to rush to our connecting flight to New York.  Like a group of crazy people we sprinted through the airport to our gate and were ushered through faster than the chocolate on the conveyor belt from that “I Love Lucy” show.

               

Delta was in such a rush that the plane which was our connecting flight had not been cleaned.  To this day, I swear that once everyone boarded, the pilot gunned the engines and took off  like a bat out of hell only to suddenly slow down and turn off the departure runway back to the terminal.  Passengers started yelling as a garbled announcement was heard stating that it was necessary to return to the gate.

Necessary?  I’d say it was more than that!  The plane was never fueled back at Hartsfield in the frenzy to get the flight loaded and in the air.  It took the pilot until minutes before take-off to check the gas gauge. 

And men talk about women!

Once in the air, another of the flight attendants made the fatal mistake of sharing this announcement….”Thank you for flying Delta; we apologize for the delay and inconvenience.  Delta has been having a really bad day today!”  Before a lynch mob could grab her, she quickly disappeared into the cockpit and the pilot made one more announcement…“Sorry for the delay folks, drinks are on Delta for the remainder of the trip.  Bottoms up, everyone!”

                        

Amazing logic.  Angry, hot and tired, passengers consuming large quantities of alcohol prior to landing at their destination, with many driving themselves home.

Around 1 a.m., the Delta saga of stupidity ended with our arrival at Stewart Airport in upstate New York.  Families and friends that had been waiting, for hours, were panicked and frustrated, having been given mis-information for the duration of their airport vigil.  Delta’s boards listed our hapless flight as having departed when, in fact, it was still in Atlanta, waiting at the gas pump.  Had I not turned on my cell phone, mid-flight, to call my husband, he would have had no idea as to the status of my trip. 

 

Most, if not all, airlines have their issues; that is a given.  Search on the web and the consumer complaints are everywhere with Delta holding its own in the top five worst airlines with Southwest (often called the “Chicken Bus”) and Americanleading the pack ..frequently. 

Hey,  weather happens and the only control lies within the judgment of pilots and airports as to the safe travel of  flights around the world.   But, in these days of skyrocketing fares, one would think the level of customer service would improve; sadly, consumers are getting less for their money with each passing day. 

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I’m melting…

 

coffee ice cream

cone melts

slowly, oozes

out the bottom, dripping

onto my shirt

messy

 

 

This week’s “Dare to Share” link-up from  The Lightning and the Lightning Bug…all about Ice Cream!

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