TOO OLD

 Too Old

Comfort series #1

 When the spirit is willing and the body isn’t, what do you do to feel good about yourself? Near the end of my novel, Baggage burdens. Josie Sommerfeld is an elderly woman in her mid nineties. For this arthritic plagued woman her best years are behind her.  A recent heart event she dismisses, but what she can’t ignore is absence of her youngest granddaughter. The possibility that she drove Jill, her granddaughter, to run away hangs over her like dark thundercloud that threatens hail. Helping family-loving Josie cope with her loss of Jill is Jill’s sister, Kathy and Kathy’s three children.

Business investments, friends and philanthropic pursuits temporarily distract Josie from worrying about Jill. Josie’s source of comfort grows from a summer when Jill moved into the house that Josie and her husband spent their retirement years. While Josie is too old to live in her three-bedroom brick colonial house on a small acreage, she refuses to sell it and bank a huge sum of money. Why?

How many old people do you know who can’t part with (sell or throw out) some possession from the past? On the surface such actions defy reason. However, some past possessions are more than memories. They represent foundational values that must be respected.

 Jill looks at her grandmother’s bulky photo album, a catalogued of flowers conveying a gardening history of her grandparents. It also shows their efforts to create a park like setting. . . .

Josey had said We came to view this two story house because it had three bedrooms. We wanted enough room for our children and grandchildren when they’d come to visit.”

Only Joan, Alice’s sister, ever came with her family.

“Seeing a hedge of yellow roses, Golden Wings, bordering the long driveway to the house hooked us,” Josey exclaimed! “We had to explore the rest of the yard. Before we entered the house, George knew he wanted to buy the place.”

“Jill. Since your mother died I’ve had the pleasure of spending a lot of time with Kathy and her family. I’ve been able to enjoy her children and help Kathy raise them. But you weren’t around. I couldn’t do anything for you.”

 “I’m sorry Josey but––”

Jill’s grandmother shakes her head cutting off Jill’s excuse. “The loss has been mine, but it’s also been yours too. I’m afraid you have no idea how much you’ve missed out. I hope with what I’m about to say to you, you will have an idea. You will also know that I have waited a long time to be able to do something for you to show how much I love you. First I want to ask you if you are able to write a cheque to me for one hundred dollars.”

“Yes, but what for?”

Josey opens the folder and hands Jill an offer to purchase form. “For my Brampton house, the one you love so much.”

“But it’s so valuable––”

“You are so valuable. And you love this place. I know you will take care of it. Rent it or sell it. Do whatever you think is best for you and your family. At my age I have no more use for such a large house or the money I get from it. All I do with my money is invest it with friends like the Martoni’s or others. And I have done that. There’s no need for me to do any more. 

George and Josie’s retirement home, the Brampton brick colonial house, was also a home for Josie’s children and grandchildren, and a haven and heaven for Jill. For Josie selling her asset was impossible. No amount of money could equal the value she derived from owning and seeing the house.

haiku capsule

                                                                            colonial house

                                                         love-lure to call granddaughter

home is not for sale

Next blog:  SOURCES OF COMFORT for a runaway daughter

A MONSTER at Work

A Monster at Work

Following your passion and being paid for it–– what could be better?  In Baggage burdens. that  was Joseph’s experience. He loved farming. While it didn’t make him rich, he was happy. Joseph enjoyed carpentry too. It supplemented his farming income. For Joseph and his family, Jill, Daniel and young Amber, all was well, like everyone singing around a small campfire on a cool evening.

Then, like dandelion seeds blowing in from the neighbor’s property, dissatisfaction rooted itself into Joseph’s family. Something more was wanted. At first it was a car for Jill, then a Hawaiian holiday, and then a move to the city, to Camrose. Jill’s passion for a house like her grandmother owned flowered in this atmosphere.

 As long as pay cheques can cover costs of the new desires all is well, right? If more desires sprout, then a larger pay cheque will manage new expenses. All that is need is a higher paying job or more hours of work or both. Joseph had utilized all those strategies, only to learn a monster had crept into his life.

His passion for his work changed. His job became a need. His work became a means to a different end. Because he enjoyed carpentry, he accepted the responsibilities that came with becoming a foreman, including extra hours of work. What he hadn’t realized, until it was too late, was that the new work demands had become a monster that gobbled much of his time. It became a monster that turned on him.

The first slashing wound, a call from a vet, caught Joseph at work. The vet recommended that Amber’s horse, Hoss, be put down immediately. Joseph agreed. Work demands prevented Joseph from breaking the news to his daughter. Work was supposed to be the means by which Joseph could make his family happy. His failure to make contacting Amber his first priority convicted him of forgetting that purpose. Work had started eating away at his family relationships.  Amber’s words (below) demonstrate the depth of the monster’s bites.

“Don’t touch me,” warns Amber. She steps back. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anybody. All you care about is your work. Just like Mom says. Money is all that is important to you.” Amber backs up again. “I hate you. I hate you,” she screams. Amber turns and runs up the stairs.

Joseph starts chasing after her, wanting to hold her, to explain, to apologize. He calls out to her. She turns. Her anger forces him to stop. Her pain burns fiery red. The need to spit out poison eats at her. She won’t hear anything he has to say. With the venom out, Joseph hopes healing can start. Unsatisfied he doesn’t catch her, he rationalizes. ‘She’s apt to scream even louder and wake up everyone else. Tomorrow after supper I’ll talk to her.’

As Joseph’s head sinks into his pillow, the echo of Amber’s words burn like a branding iron. I hate you. I hate you. Several minutes pass before the searing pain from those words ease. Just like Mom says. All you care about is your work. The words sting. The impression, ‘I’m a poor father,’ simmers like acid from heartburn, daring him to lie down so it can erupt and scorch a lasting memory. Joseph leans against the wall feeling framed, lacking energy to mount a defense.

Joseph steps into Emily’s room and sees Amber take a deep breath. As Joseph closes the door, he says, “Amber, we need to talk.”

“We already did,” she says standing up to leave.

Joseph bars her escape. “You talked. Now it’s my turn. Please. Sit down.” The tone of Joseph voice convinces Amber she has little choice.

“Amber, I should have called you as soon as I knew the vet wanted to put Hoss to sleep.”

“That’s right. You should have,” says Amber. A trace of anger lines her response.

“I want you to know that my failing to call you had nothing to do with carelessness.”

“I know. Mom told me. Work comes first.”

The comment burns Joseph like a firm slap in the face. He resolves to stick to his plan. Joseph tells Amber about the vet’s emergency call pulling him out of meeting with Mr. Olsen’s suppliers. Then he relates the vet’s diagnosis and recommendation. As he suspects, Amber listens even though the information is several days late. I thought of calling you then, but the vet didn’t want to have to make a return visit to the Weickbergs.

“I’m sorry Amber. Maybe I should have insisted that he come back, but lately life at work has been a major turmoil. I thought I couldn’t handle any more situations.” He held Amber’s attention. “When the vet asked if I wanted to prolong Hoss’ suffering I gave in.” He concludes by asking Amber to forgive him, if not now, then sometime in the future.  He hopes her silence means she’s considering his request.

“One more thing,” he adds. “As for your mom’s opinion that work is the most important thing in my life I want to tell you that she is wrong.”

Amber looks up at him in disbelief.

Joseph feels like he’s just been called a liar.

The monster at work in Joseph’s family is the inability to keep a balance in home and work life.

How often have you seen this happen?

haiku capsule

                                                                            work meetings––a must.

                                                         home––second priority.

family––upset

Next blogs:  SOURCES OF COMFORT for

SERVING––A Sufficient Reward?

Serving––A Sufficient Reward?

Can serving be sufficient motivation for a work life? To answer in the affirmative you might think you need to be talking to a saint. Joseph in the novel, Baggage Burdens., is no saint, but for most of his adult life he was content in serving. What was his secret?

Joseph was a farmer.  That might suggest an advantage––laboring in nature, God’s creation, instead of the city, man’s creation.  The freedom to setting one’s working hours is attractive too. But those are only working conditions, all be it good ones.

The servant role begins with placing the seed in the soil. Providing water and extra nourishment to promote flower and fruit formation follow. The farmer adopts the role of a sheriff to prevent mineral-stealing weeds from creating a scarcity of plant food.

The farmer’s rewards initially come not at harvest time but when the first tiny leaf dares to poke its head out of the ground, like a scout looking to see if it is safe for the rest of the leaves to come forth. The small green leafed-hand paints a smile on the farmer’s face, as if the first number called on a lottery draw is his number. Accompanying leaves are like more numbers on the farmer’s lottery ticket. Then the plant’s flower––last number before a ticket holder is in the money. With each passing week and the development of the fruit the farmer sees his winnings grow, like more numbers on his ticket being called. If the farmer’s lucky the weather will provide a high quality high yield return. Up to the fall the time has been a joy.

Joseph and his friend, Thomas, are market farmers. That means their bliss isn’t limited to seeing how their crop develops and is harvested. Selling to repeat customers at the market carries its own rewards. Being eagerly greeted by returning patrons who are delighted to see him creates a friendly atmosphere. Learning about each other’s family and their passions and challenges builds strong bonds. Fellow vendors also look forward to seeing each other. How beneficial is such experiences? Joseph’s sense of loss comes when he hats change jobs. Missing the personal conversations with his market customers hurts. Thomas’ sense of loss (below) is experienced when he must retire.

“You don’t think I know Thomas is seventy-one. He’s finding it difficult to set up for the market. The last two Saturday mornings I dropped by and helped him. Closing isn’t so bad. He has less produce. I told him one day he will have to give it up. He hates too. He’ll miss his customers. They’re his friends. Thomas will miss the other vendors too. He knows the life history of most of the regulars.”

Joseph’s rich life isn’t found in material possessions as Jill, his wife, soon discovers after she marries him.  He owns a single bed; a card table to eat dinner and his cutlery is remnants from three different sets.

haiku capsules

                                                                            your planted seed sprouts.

                                                                            leaves, flowers, harvest follow.

farmer’s jackpot win!

market table display

repeat patrons’ glad greetings

a new family

Next blog: When Work Is a Means to an End

Tolerate Me––No Thanks

Tolerate Me––No Thanks

Have you ever been a member of a group only to find you're invisible? Members tolerate you. You may wander freely among them, attend their social functions, but forget about building any personal relationships. An early learned-lesson is you may be an observer but not a participant in people’s lives. Derogatory comments about your behavior or beliefs leave you belittled and questioning why should you remain here.

A strong self-concept person may weather the cool welcoming climate. If your self worth is low, as is the case for Jill in Baggage Burdens., then standing out of the crowd hurts. Many times these are Jill’s experiences when she attends her husband’s church. The Baggage Burdens. novel shines a light on the personal pain from shallow enfolding.

Following a worship service Jill heard Gertrude Wicksberg and Bertha Polluck whispering. They were in the supply room cutting a couple of banana loafs to replenish a dessert tray. Bertha had implied that Jill must have been a hellion before she married. That’s why the Lord refused to bless Jill with more children. Gertrude had supported her position by pointing out that part of Jill’s reprimand was having a stillborn child.

Jill’s hand had touched the supply room door handle to burst into the room and serve them with a helping of fire and brimstone. Bertha’s response, “What kind of terrible thing could she have gotten into?” stopped Jill.

Why Do You Want Us to Leave?

 “You don’t think I know what the people here think of me and why? Just because I enjoy spending time with my children and teaching and seeing them learn, they think I’m some kind of alien or weirdo. For some reason they feel threatened. I don’t say they should do what I’m doing. But they have no right to try to tell me what to do either.”

Joseph imagines which parents Jill is referring to. ‘Perhaps Gertrude.’ He suspects for a long time Jill wanted to challenge them.

“They don’t accept me. And if they think I’ll change for them they’re badly mistaken. I’m not going to let them or anyone control me.”

While Jill keeps a firm control on the volume her voice, her tone tells Joseph why her face is red; her hands are clenched.

Later when Jill attends Anne’s church, she finds them more than tolerating, more than friendly.

They are truly communal.

haiku capsule

                                                                            Overheard gossip.

                                                                            Differences not accepted.

Tolerate me––NO.

Next blog: To serve is not work.