Home Holidays

Home Holidays 

A holiday, a temptation that’s hard to resist. A forty-hour work week that, with the help of a cell phone, leaks into home life gives one little time to relax. Couple that with community committee meetings and children’s recreational schedules and one has little free time left. A white knight––a break from the daily rat-race.

A holiday can be a taxing event. There’s planning, booking and depending upon where you go expenses that have to be met. Then the return to “normal” life means facing a backlog of responsibilities––yard maintenance, dozens of emails and phone messages. It almost seems like the cost of slowing down for a week or two means when you return you have to scramble like crazy.

Still that break, that time to escape every day responsibilities is something one works for, something one looks forward to. That freedom-reward is like experiencing a moment of heavenly bliss. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to experience that holiday effect without the holiday hassle after-effects?

It can be done. A weekend skiing or camping holiday, a day at the beach, work for some. Attending a local festival or enjoying a yearly seasonal event works too. Preparation and recovery tasks are considerably reduced from a full-blown holiday. 

Imagine the freedom to take a lengthened lunch break or coffee break when a friend drops in or the weather begs you to experience a little down time. You might call that a mini-holiday. If only employers could do that. It might come as non-paid break, but it could be a life enriching experience. It could even lead to more intense efforts when one returns to work. 

Dreaming? Perhaps, but if it is an enjoyable fantasy then escape with me in my novel Baggage burdens. and sink into Joseph’s life. He’s a market gardener who savors the joy of a mini-holiday by taking lengthened coffee break and later a lengthened lunch break with his wife.

A peek into Joseph’s life  

Draping his loose shirt on the back of the cedar chair, Joseph sits down and soaks in the heat from the hot seat. With his head resting on the back of the chair, he stares at the blue sky. It’s a perfect afternoon to stretch out on the lounger. He moves there.

The slamming back door announces Jill’s arrival. Looking up, he sees her ponytail bob back and forth out of her cap. The way she carries the tray with a pitcher of cold lemonade and two glasses brings an image of Jill working in the bakery. Once he dared hope that Jill would do the same at his place. His dream is now reality. 

I’m really blessed.

Joseph imagines sitting at a resort in some hot spot like Mexico. No. This is better, he concludes. Remembering he has work to do, he rationalizes. After an hour, I can still return to my garden. I haven’t spent a cent, but I’ve enjoyed a mini holiday.

He slumps back in the lounger and drinks in the nature around them. Birds chirp in the spruce trees, a distant plane drones overhead, a car drives slowly down the road, and a fly buzzes by his ear. He flicks it away. The neighbour’s dog adds its voice to nature’s symphony. 

Then the lemonade splashing in his glass opens his eyes. Jill stands above him, her hand holding out a glass. She fills her glass. The pitcher is close to the glass. He guesses she poured his lemonade to catch his attention.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” she says.

Joseph nods. 

All morning, Joseph tends to machinery maintenance in the shed. At noon, when he comes to the house, he finds the picnic table in the shade and Matthew picking at a muffin. Grilled cheese sandwiches and a jug of ice tea wait for him. Jill appears with two bowls of the strawberry and rhubarb fruit. 

Pointing to the bowl, Jill reports Matthew declared it’s very good. They eat their lunch to the music of buzzing bees and the occasional drone of a plane gliding overhead. Memories of lounging on the balcony at her grandmother’s carry Jill to another carefree time. Joseph imagines Sunday afternoon has already descended upon them. Work’s done. A lounger waits.

Haiku capsule:

Sun’s call: rest with me.

Birds chirp, planes drone, faint barking 

Summer’s seduction

Next Blog: 

Dry Drunk

Three Strong Women

Three Strong Women

In my novel, Baggage burdens.three women stand out as being very strong characters. Each has their own set of values and they live by them no matter what challenges rise up. While they aren’t in competition with each other, they are committed to what is important in their lives. After reviewing a brief outline of the struggles that each faced, and how they adapted, who would you predict would be the strongest, the most admirable person––Jill, who is both daughter and mother, Alice, Jill’s mother, or Josey, Jill’s grandmother?   

Teen-age Jill runs away from home from her a violent alcoholic father. The girl’s brief homeless period results in her succeeding as a friend and worker in a bakery before her marriage. Her role as mother of four children is made more difficult by the lack of acceptance from the conservative rural religious community she lives in.    

At times Alice is forced to choose who to support most––her academically successful children or her psychologically troubled drinking husband. Her love for both leads to strained family relationships, but all her commitments remain unwavering.

Josey’s disapproval of Jill’s husband’s drinking results in Josey being accused of being an-old-meddling mother-in-law. Forced to be part of the family from a distance, she struggles to keep in-the-know and be of help when she can. For a normally successful woman, these restrictions tax her for most of her life. 

  

A peek into each of their lives

Ron’s son, Nathan, had asked Daniel why his mother hated everybody. When Joseph, Daniel’s father, approached Ron about that, Ron’s response was, “Well, doesn’t she? Jill refuses to send her daughter to our school, like it’s not good enough for Amber. I figure she hates our way of life. She doesn’t want Amber to be contaminated by our ways.”

 “There’s a logic to what you say, Ron.” Joseph’s surprising statement lowered tension in Thomas’s workshop. “I admit Jill’s actions on the surface sure don’t make her look good.”

“For sure,” seconded Ron confidently.

“On the other hand, maybe Jill loves her daughter so much that she just wants to spend as much time as she can with her. Even if her action may not be the best, it’s hard to fault that kind of motivation. Wouldn’t you agree?” Joseph waited for a response,

Ron grunted, “Yeah.”

“That second line of thinking puts Jill in a positive light, wouldn’t you say? If we are called to love our neighbour as our self and protect their good name as the Bible teaches, which line of logic do you think would be more pleasing to the Lord?”

“Where’s the remote?” bellows Frank after he reaches the coffee table.

Alice had moved it to make room for Jill’s stage.

“Under the coffee table,” she calls back as she carries his slippers. 

Frank doesn’t hear her.

“What’s this junk doing here?” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll put it away.” Alice guesses her husband is referring to Jill’s homework assignment on the coffee table.

“What’s the matter with that girl? Can’t she ever put her own stuff away?” 

Frank bends over the table like a huge bear in a stream looking for fish. He raises his arm high. Then he bats the cardboard structure. Jill’s creation flies across the room and crashes into the far wall, leaving a trail of debris. 

“How am I supposed to find the remote?”

“Frank, that’s Jill’s homework assignment!” She tosses his slippers near the coffee table. “The remote is by your slippers.” Alice hurries to investigate the damage to Jill’s stage. 

Before Alice reaches the stage, she hears a howl of pain. Frank’s toes rammed into the coffee table leg, slowing his pursuit of Alice. He reaches her as she bends down and scoops up the cardboard model. Alice crashes into the wall with Frank falling heavily against her. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Trying to salvage Jill’s homework. What do you think?” Anger slips out of Alice.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think you’re doing a poor job of raising that kid.” Frank shoves himself away from the wall, grabs Alice by her arms, and shakes her. “How many times have I told you? Tell her to clean up when she’s finished. How many times?”

Fear replaces Alice’s anger. Half-crying, she answers, “I don’t know.”

“Too many times. That’s how many. Too many times.”

Gripped by fear, Alice looks for a defense. Pain pierces her arms.

Jill settles back into her chair. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I am grateful that you have come down to see me, but why have you been such a stranger most of my life? I can’t even remember the last time I saw you.”

Mrs. Sommerfeld looks directly at Jill. “I guess that’s as good a place as any to start. Your mom’s still married to Frank, right?” 

Jill nods. 

“That’s why. In the beginning, I had disapproved of your mom’s marriage. Frank partied too much. I thought he wouldn’t make a good husband.” Mrs. Sommerfeld shakes her head as if she were advising her daughter again. 

 “Well, he never forgave me for that. I told your mother that Frank had a drinking problem, that she should convince him to get help. When you were born, I became more insistent. I thought there wouldn’t be enough money for the family and his drinking habit.” 

In a lower voice, she says, “Frank accused me of interfering.” For the briefest moment, Mrs. Sommerfeld’s eyes fall to her purse. “When I talked to your mother on the phone, Frank found out. He was furious. He demanded that all contact between his family and me end.” She pauses. “Completely.” A curled index finger points to Jill. “You’d just started grade one. The last day I saw you is when your mom and I walked you to school.”

“That’s right! I remember now!” confirms Jill, a little surprised at the surfacing memory.

“That’s when she told me about the ultimatum. Frank threatened to leave your mother if he ever found out that I came visiting again. Your mother caved in. I couldn’t even phone you or your sister. Your mother was afraid either of you might let it slip out that we talked. He even became angry when I sent you or Kathy birthday cards or Christmas cards. The following year, they were sent back unopened.” 

Haiku capsule:

Love misunderstood

Flee alcohol-fueled harm

Strength seen in weakness

Next Blog: 

Home Holiday

A Burden

You Are a Burden

You are a burden.That’s something you’d probably never say to someone even if you thought it. However, caring for a difficult child or living with a challenging spouse could still be a handful. Coping might be the best you can do because leaving them is not an option.

When facing a tremendous challenge, what do you do?Having a network of support, even if it is just one or two people, can be amazingly helpful. That support network can be a safe place to let off steam or a source of encouragement. New strategies may also arise. At times that support group can be a handy helping hand, allowing one to tackle other demands in life. 

The most critical factor in caring for a person with overwhelming troubles is love. Love for the needy person allows one to absorb the impact of failures and times when actions backfire. 

In my novel, Baggage burdens., Jill’s mother’s love for her alcoholic husband allows her to put up with many pains, the most hurtful is the disapproval of her children. However, she finds there is a limit to the burden she can carry for him.  

Joseph, Jill’s husband, loves his wife even though she has some strange behaviors. Her depression after losing her baby is expected, but he rises to the occasion. Unexpected mood changes catch him off guard. His support continues. He defends her. Then she crosses the line. Love dissipates. She becomes an unacceptable burden. Why? What has she done to make caring for her no longer worth it? 

Jill’s father’s frustrated roar breaks through. In too short a time, the incident that Jill drowns out with everyday responsibilities replays. 

“He said he wouldn’t drink anymore!” Jill’s outburst erupts as she fails to contain her fury. 

Her mother doesn’t respond. Righteous anger forces the seventeen-year-old to her feet to face her father. 

“He’d better go downstairs and call his AA buddy.” Jill summons her courage, then advances, intent to demonstrate her conviction and redirect her father downstairs.

Alice scrambles after her angry daughter. “Jill, don’t.”

“Don’t what? That was the deal. He said if he ever comes home drunk again, we could tell him he had to call his AA buddy. We could remind him of it. He agreed to that. Remember?” The volume of her voice rises.

Jill advances again toward the top of the stairs, planning to meet her father before he reaches the top step. The smoke from the cigarette, which he tossed on the top of the stairs, nips at her nostrils. Step on it, flashes through her mind. Before she can act, her mother’s objection interrupts.

“Yes, but …” 

Jill wheels around and faces her mother. “But what?”

Alice fails to explain how Jill’s provocative voice could ignite an emotional explosion and possibly a violent confrontation. The frustrated growling from the porch announces an intoxicated struggle to get out of outside clothes. 

“Let me talk to him. Please go to your room.” Alice’s pleading voice weakens Jill’s resolve.

Grumbling continues to bounce off the porch walls.

“Let me help you,” insists the indignant girl. “We have to stand up to him. We’re stronger together.”

“No. Please. Go to your room. Quickly.” 

Joseph’s attempts to engage Jill in conversation result in one- or two-word responses. Once again, in desperation Joseph shares his concerns about Jill’s low-level efforts with Thomas and Rebecca. 

“I think she still can’t get over losing Christine,” he tells Rebecca.

“Could be. Be patient.” Rebecca reaches out to comfort Joseph. In a lower voice, she hints that perhaps it might be time to take Jill to her doctor. “It’s been more than four months.”

“It’s so maddening! It’s like she’s stuck in the mud, spinning her wheels, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Maybe there is.” Thomas’s comment drifts out slowly as if he is thinking of a possibility but hasn’t worked out the details.

“What do you mean?” Joseph studies his friend.

“All I can think of is,” he pauses, “end her brooding; get her mind out of the past. Excite her about something in the future. You know, give her something to look forward to.” 

“Like what?” Frustration colors Joseph’s response. “She didn’t even get excited about Amber’s birthday party. I mean she loves Amber, but—” Joseph throws his arms up in resignation.

Haiku capsule:

Too much to handle

Struggles with overwhelming task

Silent admission

Next Blog: 

Three Strong Women

SACRIFICING

S a c r i f i c i n g

Doing something for someone is not sacrificing. It’s just giving.  When you choose to give up something that is very important to you or the way you live then one can conclude that you really love that person. After all, for whom else would you make such a demanding choice? He or she must be very special.

Giving your life for someone, like Jesus did, is exceptional. There are many other circumstances where individuals give up something for another person that they love––a spouse changes jobs so the other-half can pursue a beloved career or a son or daughter moves to a different city to be with their aging ailing parent. Sadly, the pain for the sacrifice may not be noticed by the person receiving the favor. However, another person’s happiness, is payment enough. Admittedly, today willingness to sacrifice for another is scarce.

For a reader who knows the depth of a character’s loss, the sacrifice can’t help but pull at one’s heart strings.

In part my novel, Baggage burdens. is a narrative of love, of sacrifices not seen by others. Joseph many times places himself in delicate positions to try and make Jill happier. Julie, Jill’s niece, also ends up on thin ice when she helps Jill. Jill’s mother chooses to stand by her drinking husband. Her actions are misunderstood by her children. 

Since Jill doesn’t see herself as worthy of love, never mind being loving, will these sacrificing models teach Jill anything?

Once they take their usual seats on the rocks, Daniel begins, “Shoot. What’s up?” 

“In a big hurry to see Eve?” Joseph grins.

Daniel smiles and nods.

Joseph takes a deep breath. “Your mom and I have been talking about moving into Camrose.” 

“What!” Daniel cuts in. The unrestrained emotional reaction matches Joseph’s expectation. Before Joseph can repeat his statement, an irritated Daniel says, “Hold it. Hold it. It’s not you and Mom. It’s Mom, isn’t it? Honestly?”

Joseph always stressed the importance of being honest with each other to maintain a strong, trusting relationship. It was an expectation he held of Daniel. 

Now the tables are reversed, thinks Joseph regretfully.

“Yes, but I can see—”

Adrenalin shoots him to his feet.

Joseph maintains a calm, instructive voice. “Sit down, Daniel. Please.” 

 Daniel reluctantly sits down.

“First, Daniel, do you think you are the only one inconvenienced by the move? Do you think I really want to move from here?”

“Then why even—”

Joseph’s hand shoots up. “Tell me. You said you love Eve.”

Daniel responds boldly without hesitation. “Yes.”

“And you’d do anything to make her happy?” 

Daniel slumps forward under the weight of his father’s logic.

Haiku capsule:

exacting love gift

another’s happiness first

no gift is too much

Next Blog: 

You Are a Burden