A Memory Triggered

I was sitting at work today double-checking a student list for one of the assistant directors. A last name popped out at me (let’s call it VanHelsing). I remembered a girl from high school that had the same last name and I wondered if it was her son. I actually remember seeing him in our office before and thinking that he had the coloring of the VanHelsing family.

Then I started thinking about the girl, whose name was Roberta. She was a tiny girl with long dark hair, big dark eyes and an olive complexion. She had an odd way of speaking: like with an accent and always very fast. She was pretty smart, not good at gym, but very pleasant if you took the time to talk to her. Her family didn’t have much, and she had a younger brother and an older sister who struggled with her weight. There were days when she wasn’t quite fresh, to put it delicately. I think that’s why she liked gym days: because you could shower after class.

Anyhoo, the memory that immediately popped into mind was when we were in high school, and one weekend the youth leader from church was having a sleepover for the high school girls, and then we were going horseback riding the next day. I was so excited! My parents rarely let me go to sleepovers (you have your own bed to sleep in!) so this was a treat for me.

Imagine my surprise when I got to Kathy’s house, and Roberta was there. She didn’t go to our church, but my friend Debbie had asked if she wanted to come. I honestly didn’t mind since I had no beef with her, and at a sleepover the more the merrier! We ate lots of junk, watched movies, girl talked and just were having a good time. Roberta seemed a little shy, so I was talking to her and she lit up like Christmas because we made her feel like part of the gang.

You know how at these things, girls are always trying makeup and new hair styles and such. One of the girls asked Roberta if she’d like for her to brush her hair. She eagerly nodded yes. She did have long beautiful hair and I’m sure no one was brushing it for her. So my friend was behind her with the brush, Roberta was facing me and chatting happily and I could see my friend mouth, “Her hair is filthy,” behind her. I kind of wasn’t surprised but I felt bad. However, kudos to my friend for continuing to do this nice thing for Roberta.

Afterwards, my friend must have said something to Kathy because as we were all finally winding down she said, “Tomorrow before we eat breakfast remember to shower first. If you need any bathroom items just ask!” Subtle but effective! The next morning Roberta was the first one for a shower; and Kathy lent her some clean clothes to wear.

It was a good day for all, especially Roberta. After the sleepover, it was business as usual. But when we would see her in the halls we’d say hi; or if we had her in gym we no longer chose her last. Nothing fake: we just got to see a different side of her at the sleepover. I’m glad Debbie invited her.

Roberta is still around, by the way. I’ve seen her a couple of times the past few years and she still looks the same. I hope she has had a good life and is happy. After all: isn’t that what we all want at the end of the day?

Updates

Every so often, I’ll go back and read a couple of my posts to amuse myself. In there, I noticed two posts that said I would update as appropriate yet I never did. So now seems like a good time to do so.

The first update comes five years after the original post entitled “July 20^th”. In this post, it referenced my Saratoga racetrack / love story. There were only three chapters left to complete the manuscript, and I wanted to publish it on the opening day of the Flat Track season. That didn’t happen.

Now it’s 2020 and guess what? It STILL isn’t finished! I’m down to a chapter and a half. What’s my excuse? I published a different book instead, one that is a prequel to the book I haven’t finished yet! AND I’m working on another prequel to that Saratoga book. I know it sounds crazy but have you met me?? Apparently I’ll do anything to not finish writing that book. Maybe when I run out of prequels, the Saratoga book will be the sequel. Madness!

The next post is Lost and Found, from 2010. In it I reference an old school friend named Scott. I mentioned that I was writing a book about our chance run in, and that I would let you know when it was published. Well here’s the announcement: it was published November 2, 2011! Over eight years ago. I am so remiss! But it’s a fabulous story so now that you know about it: go to Amazon Kindle and download it onto your Kindle or e-reader app. You’ll love it!

And the last update for today is about my friend Sky, as in Sky’s the Limit from January 2011. I promised that I would write a blog post about him someday. Well I never did! It was too hard for me and there was just too much involved. So instead: I wrote a book! It’s one of the prequels to that Saratoga unfinished book. It’s called “A Good Place to Start”. It doesn’t exactly tell our story, but it tells a story that I like and it makes me feel good. So if you want a little more insight into my relationship with Sky, download this book!

Those are the only updates I have for today. Trust me: there will be more in the future!

2020: Let's Get It Started!

It seems like such a long time since I have written a post. It’s been a rather challenging few months but baby I’m back!

I’m not going to bore you with the…less than stellar things that have happened. But I will tell you about Marie. I didn’t make this info public previously because I didn’t want to put a damper on anyone’s holiday. Christmas Eve morning I woke up to find Marie on the floor in the dining room. She had fallen but was conscious. I had no idea how long she had been down, and neither did she. Brie came to help me get her up but we couldn’t, so I called Clancy and he came. It took the 3 of us to get her up (she was weak so it was dead weight). We got her on the couch and then I called 9-1-1. Long story short: she was taken to the hospital where we discovered she had a hematoma on her brain, which may have caused a mini stroke and that’s why she fell. However, because of her age and overall health, a biopsy cannot be performed so we won’t know if it’s benign or not, or even how long she’s had it.

The original plan was for her to eventually go to a nursing home or hospice. But because she’s the comeback kid, she improved! She is walking with her walker, talking and there doesn’t seem to be much difference in her memory from before the fall. She’s eating 3 square meals a day too, ha ha. She is currently in rehab but will be going home on February 20^th. Who says God isn’t on the throne???

I’m not sure how long she will be able to be home. She knows she has to be mobile, otherwise I can’t take care of her. So I’m sure that is impetus enough for her to stay strong, as long as the hematoma lets her. The dogs have missed her; and would climb up in her chair and snuggle under her blankets. When the EMTs were at the house, Lilly climbed up on my mother and barked to keep them away from her. But because she weighs 8 pounds, it was easy to lift her off and hold her so they could do what they needed to. As for Victoria the cat: let’s just say she’ll be glad to have her old sparring partner back!

I never thought this was how I was going to ring out the old year and ring in the new, but here it is. I’m looking for things to improve from here, so cheers and a belated Happy New Year!

Wild Kingdom

I live in a relatively small town, but it isn’t rural. The population is roughly 5,000 people. I live on a main street that has lots of traffic during the day. So with this being said: can someone explain to me why it’s like wild kingdom in my yard?

Seriously: it seems like lately you never know what you might see hanging around. Granted, the backyard extends almost to the Hudson River. The groundskeeper only mows a couple of feet past the garage, so there is a lot of grass and assorted greenery that critters can hide in. (which is why I’m never in the back yard.)

We have lived in this particular house for just over three years. Each year there seems to be something else to keep me inside the house. The first year it was bats. We had two that got in through a vent in MY bathroom. Oh, you know I had Kitty take care of that! At first, I thought it was a bird but quickly discovered I was wrong. Technically, that should have kept me out of the house, but I knew there were probably more out there!

The next year a skunk wanted to sit at the end of the driveway. I was trapped in my car while he just sat there and enjoyed the evening breeze. I had to wait twenty minutes, until he decided to waddle on home (wherever that was). Seriously!

Last year, a woodchuck took a liking to Kitty’s garden and started hanging around. You know that Kitty made sure he had absolutely no access to her vegetables. However, he continued to hope she would forget to shut the gate door so he could go in. She never did.

Brie was sitting on the front porch one night communing with God. She heard a noise and looked up to see a possum walking across the front yard. She made a beeline back into the house!

This year Kitty decided to do just a potted garden and has the pots on the front porch. This way, she figures the woodchuck won’t come up there. Imagine our surprise when one day Brie calls her sister from the car. “Kitty, what in the world is that sitting in our back yard??” Kitty went to look out the back door and answered, “It’s a woodchuck.” “That’s the fattest woodchuck I’ve ever seen!” Now I had to look out the back door and Brie was right: the woodchuck was huge. He was sitting in the middle of the back yard having a snack. I’m not sure what he was eating, probably dropped bird seed, but he seemed very content with life in general. I’m hoping that if he gets enough bird seed, he won’t come to the front to eat Kitty’s plants. After he was finished enjoying his food, he lumbered into the tall grass beyond the garage.

Then there was last night. Brie, who is like me, was sitting in her car on the phone after teaching her fitness class. I was turning into the driveway with Kitty, whom I had just picked up from work. My headlights picked up something at the end of the driveway. “What is that: the neighbor’s cat?” I asked Kitty. “Nope, it’s a fox.” “What????”  Yes: there was a fox there at the end of the driveway. He was chewing on something (God only knows what). We heard Brie yelling out her window, “What the heck is that?” Kitty rolled down her window. “A fox.”  “In our town?” None of us could believe it. We watched the fox eat whatever it was eating while we waited in our cars in case it was rabid. It didn’t appear to be, but we wouldn’t know since we’d never had one in our yard before. When Mr. Fox was finished with his repast, he went into the big set of bushes by our garage.

I wonder what those animals were eating back there. I haven’t been curious enough to go back there to find out. I just hope nothing bigger happens to come shambling out of the tall grass in the back. We’ve had enough of wild kingdom!

Heaven

I haven't written a poem in a long time. But this one happened to come to me this morning, so here it is.

I listened to a preacher say,

“No one talks about Heaven today.”

Is that because there’s too much fun

On this 3^rd rock from the sun?

People don’t want to let go

Of their activities here below.

Frankly, they don’t realize

That Heaven is the BIG grand prize!

No potholes in the streets of gold.

Vibrant colors: bright and bold.

Gates of giant, perfect pearls.

Not a blemish: not a whorl.

Mansions as far as the eye can see:

One for you and one for me!

Wall foundations of precious stone.

Understatement: mind blown!

No more crying, no more tears,

No more dying, no more fears.

No more trouble, no more strife.

Eating from the Tree of Life!

Listening to the angels play;

Seeing Jesus every day.

Praises ringing loud and clear

For all inhabitants to hear.

We will all walk in the Light

For in Heaven there is no night.

Lord God Almighty and the Lamb,

Son of God and the Great I Am

Are waiting now for you and me:

What a wedding feast it shall be!

We will all be by His side,

When the Lamb takes His bride.

New Jerusalem in its bliss,

So glad that I won’t miss this!

And forever I will be

With the Holy Trinity.

Although Earth can have some charm,

These days there’s just too much harm.

Pleasure’s fleeting: not to stay,

One day Earth will burn away.

Get right with God, the time’s at hand,

I’ll see you in the Promised Land.

June 18, 2019

Rita D Debnam

Marie's Favorite Stories

My mother has been living with me since March 2017. I know she is probably unhappy about this, but she can't live by herself and I'm the only game in town. So when she was released from the hospital I brought her straight to my house.

As you can imagine, it's been quite an adjustment for everyone. We have never had much of a relationship, so this makes it a little...challenging at times. Old wounds are reopened, "convenient memory" kicks in on occasion and I know she'd rather be anywhere but here having me take care of her. And trust me: it's work!

But every so often we have good moments, and usually at my expense. And I let her. Brie and Kitty love when she reminisces about me when I was a kid because I was odd with a capital O. Marie talks and the girls laugh and laugh. I just roll my eyes and ignore them until my mother ultimately says, "Why did you do that?" That's when I side eye her and threaten to tell stories about stuff she did when SHE was younger.

At the risk of incriminating myself, I'm going to briefly tell you a couple of things that Marie loves to tell my girls. She likes to tell them that I was afraid of water and every time she washed my hair I thought she was trying to drown me. She enjoys telling them I was afraid of dogs, and how Keith and Carl would tell their puppy to "sic me" and I would run screaming and crying from a puppy that was too small to run and was just hopping after me. And Marie likes to tell them about the weird things I would eat: baking soda, flour, toothpaste and lotion.

But Marie's all-time favorite story that my girls love the most is this. Back when it was just Keith, Carl and me, my parents both smoked. In those days they smoked in the house like it was okay. Anyhoo, eventually both of my parents quit smoking cold turkey. And would you like to know the reason why??? Because apparently Keith and Carl liked to blow the ashes out of the ashtrays, and then I would eat the cigarette butts! Marie swears this is a true story and the girls think it's the funniest story ever. Seriously.

So every couple of months or so my mother will find a reason to bring this up so Brie and Kitty can chortle in mirth. And I let her and don't get mad. I mean it isn't like I do it now. And it brings a little joy to Marie. So I guess it's worth it.

But one day I'm going to tell a few stories about her. After all: isn't turnabout fair play???

Shoe-icide

Approximately 9 years ago I had a killer pair of shoes. They were black with a one-inch kitten heel, a pretty design on the toes and were so sharp looking. I wore them out dancing, to work and to church and these dress shoes were so comfortable. I just loved them. Yep: I loved them right up to the day I came home from work and Pumpkin, who was a puppy, decided to chew the toes off of both shoes. I was so mad at her! You know, for like 5 minutes because she was so cute and I shouldn't have left the shoes where she could get to them while she was teething.

So I have been looking for a pair of shoes like that for years. Just wanted a dress pump with a kitten heel. But you would think that I wanted shoes with actual kittens as heels because they were no where to be found: at least not affordable. So imagine how thrilled I was when I walked into Payless a few months ago and found: a dress pump with a kitten heel! My heart sang! Black, pointy-toed, strap around the back and they were affordable Christian Sorianos. No one in town was happier than I was.

Yep: happy right up until the day I actually went to wear them. Now I had tried them on in the store but walking around in front of the mirror is different than walking around all day in them. I have a bone at the base of my right big toe that protrudes a little bit; and the right shoe rubs against that bone. So sadly I didn't wear them.

Until I found myself back in the job market. So these became my interview pumps. I could wear them for the duration of an interview. That is, until I had a very important interview the beginning of August and I really needed to impress.

I got all dressed up and put on my flip flops to drive to the interview. There were several buildings so I went into the closest one to inquire as to where HR was. The receptionist said it was 2 buildings over. I debated wearing the flip flops until I got to the building and then changing into the Christian Sorianos. But heck: it was only 2 buildings over. So I went back to my car and put on the pumps.

I gingerly made my way to HR and whew: I made it. My foot was already starting to hurt but I had reached my destination. I was told that I would meet with the interviewer in 6 minutes and to have a seat.. Then she said, "I really love those shoes!" I wanted to tell her she could have the shoes, but fought down that urge as my foot started to throb a little. However, true to her word, in 6 minutes she said to me, "Okay, let's head over." Something didn't sound quite right with that sentence but I got up and followed her out the door. And out of the building. And on a short tour, since the interview was 3 BUILDINGS OVER! My right foot was like, "What are you doing????" But I managed to mince on over, like a geisha, to where the interview was taking place.

When I sat down for the interview I immediately slipped my feet out of the devil shoes and thankfully no one noticed. It was a wonderful interview and I felt like I'd be coming home if I was offered the job. At the end I surreptitiously slipped my feet back into the instruments of torture, shook hands all around and one of the ladies was going to show me how to get to my car. But FIRST she had to take me on another mini tour! The way my feet were feeling: if she had been a bigger woman I probably would have jumped on her back for a piggy-back ride! But finally I was pointed in the right direction to get to my car.

I was doing a slow hobble and seriously thinking about just taking off my shoes: even though I am NEVER barefoot. I knew my feet were slowly committing "shoe-icide" and it was my own fault that they were trying to kill themselves. But I figured I was almost at the parking lot until instead of taking a turn, I went straight. And that was the wrong way.I realized this when I saw the parking lot on a small hill, but there was no way to get to it. I seriously wanted to just drop to the sidewalk in defeat. Luckily a student saw me and asked if I needed help. I told her my situation and she said, "You're so close! Just go into this door at the back of the Student Center, go up the stairs, through the center and out the door. You'll be able to see your car from there."  Up stairs?? Oy vey! But I thanked her and limped away.

By the time I got to the car I wanted to take not only my shoes off: but my FEET off! I prayed and told God to please let me have the job so I would never have to wear those beautiful shoes again. God was listening and I started my new career August 15th. Hallelujah!

And I haven't worn those shoes since because I couldn't walk on my right foot for 2 days as it was so sore. I mean I was using a cane and cursing those shoes. However, they are still the cutest things going so I'm going to keep them as a reminder to love this job until retirement!