Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 9

by | Jun 19, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 9

Velma was angry and sad at the same time.  She had been by Angus’ side when he collapsed at home. Angus whispered for her to drive the truck to the hospital so they would have a way to get home later.  She wanted to go in the ambulance with him but did what he suggested.  When she got to the hospital they were already taking him in to the ER and when she saw him next, he was dead.

She was angry at Angus for suggesting that and at herself for agreeing to it.  But the anger was overwhelmed by the sadness and desolation of knowing he was gone.  64 years of a life with the best partner in the world was over.  She sat next to his hospital bed, holding his hand.  She sniffed and sunk her head in her hands again and again.  She would look up at his face and drop her head immediately, as if weighed too much for her neck.

Her sister, Violet, was there when I arrived.  She stood behind Velma and rubbed her shoulders lightly.  I stood off at a distance but Violet caught on that I wanted to talk to her and came over.  Her eyes were red from crying.  I told her who I was and that Melissa was at my house playing with Maria.  She didn’t miss a beat before saying ‘Well, there is no way Velma can take care of her now, can she stay at your house?

I said, “Of course.  She is about the same size as my daughter so she can wear her pajamas and fresh clothes in the morning if she wants.  Someone can pick her up tomorrow or I can drop her off wherever she needs to go.”
Violet’s response made me nervous, “I meant I don’t think Velma will be able to take care of her for a long time, if ever. They were about to be finished with the foster children business. Velma looks healthy enough but she has been having spells lately.  She fainted 3 times in the last 2 months and it was worrying Angus quite a bit.  I will talk to her and maybe I can call you in the morning about what we need to do with Melissa, ok?”
I didn’t let my concern show when I said, “Ok, we will figure it out tomorrow.”  I then had another worrisome thought.  “Do you want me to tell her what happened or will Velma or you tell her?”
She said, “Well, I have a funny feeling she will be asking questions right away.  If she does, go ahead and tell her.  She has had people lie to her before about this sort of thing and she doesn’t take kindly to it.  Just tell her the truth. ”Violet gave me her cell phone number and said I could call her instead of Velma’s home number for the next day since Velma would probably stay at her house, at least overnight.
After giving my condolences to Velma I drove home.  After I called Mary to tell her I was on my way home I rolled down all 4 car windows.  I felted oddly comforted by the wind, noise and buffeting I felt from the turbulent air swirling around me.  I tried to figure out what words I would use in telling her what happened. I didn’t know if she was religious and should say he is in heaven.  I wondered what Violet meant about Melissa having been lied to before.  I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to be insensitive either.
Melissa and Maria were waiting in the front yard when I got home.  “What happened?” Melissa asked as I shut the car door.
“Well, Angus had to go to the hospi…”  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She said before I finished my sentence.
I looked at her big eyes and knew that she knew.  “Yes, he is” I said.
She sat in the grass and started to cry. Maria sat down as well and put her arm around her.  Mary came out the front door.  We walked a few strides away and she told me that Melissa had been saying she knew Angus was dead for almost an hour.
I told Mary what Violet had said about Velma probably not being able to take care of Melissa.  Mary looked at me and said, “Well, Melissa and Maria have said more than a few times tonight that they wished they were sisters.”
I was up until the sunrise thinking many things.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 8

by | Jun 12, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 8

The rest of the afternoon sped by. The girls made peanut butter and turkey cracker sandwiches, which they declared to be ‘very good’ when I asked. They went out back and both got in the hammock. They watched the birds in the birdbath, laughing at them dunking themselves and shaking all the water off. That gave them the idea to run through the sprinkler, which I let them do.

6 o’clock came and went with no sign of Velma. I didn’t worry about it too much until about 6:30 or so.  I asked Melissa to call home to see where she was. There was no answer. She said neither of them had a cell phone. By about 7:00 I was starting to worry. We called again and still there was no answer.

Finally around 7:15 I decided I should drive over to their house to see if I could figure out what was going on. I went next door and asked my neighbor Mary if she would watch the girls for a few minutes. She was happy to. I told her that if Velma or Angus came by it was fine to let Melissa go with them and to call me on my cell phone if they heard anything.

Velma and Angus lived in a nice mobile home park on the west edge of Sunrise. I had been in it once before to pick up some soccer supplies from a parent so I pretty much knew where I was going. Their mobile home was very nicely maintained, with a little flower bed next to an astroturf patio area. They had a lot of garden stones with words like ‘peace’ and ‘happiness’ carved into them.

I didn’t see their truck as I drove up and the blinds in the back window near the patio were closed. I knocked on the door but no one answered.

As I walked back out to my car an older gentleman on a bicycle was coming down the road waving to me. Right then my cell phone rang. It was my neighbor Mary. As she started talking so did the man on the bike. From both I heard the same thing, overlapping in a weird harmony, ‘Angus had to go to the hospital.’

I asked Mary how Melissa was doing and she said she was fine, all she knew was that Velma would be late.  I asked, “So, what did Velma tell you?”

Mary explained, “She just said Angus had a bad pain and had to be looked at, that was all. She was sorry for the inconvenience and she would call when she was able to get back to the pay phone at the hospital.”

I asked Mary if she could stay for a while longer. “Yes of course. Do you want me to feed the girls?” I said that would be great.

I turned my attention to the gentleman on the bike. He continued, “Velma called the ambulance and they took Angus away on a stretcher. They had oxygen and a bunch of people all around him. I hope he is ok.”I was pretty sure what hospital they took him too but asked anyway just to be sure. “Yep, they took him to that little one on Rt. 57, up near the river.” I thanked him and headed north.

The hospital was a cinderblock affair, very small and utilitarian. What it lacked in beauty it made up for in kindness. I had brought all 3 of my girls here at one time or another. Caria had broken her leg playing soccer, Daria had been checked out after she got bit by a spider and Maria had her hand taken care of after burning it in the kitchen. Now you know why she knows the kitchen rules so well.

I parked next to Velma and Angus’s truck and made my way into the emergency entrance. Velma wasn’t in the waiting room so I asked at the desk if Angus Billet had been admitted. The woman at the desk turned out to be Betsy McMillan, who I recognized as a parent from Maria’s class. She looked up and said, “Hi Art. Yes, he was.”

“Hi Betsy, can you tell me what he was admitted for?” I asked.

“They think he had a heart attack.” She responded.

“Wow, that is no good at all. Velma told me he wasn’t feeling well today when she dropped off Melissa at our house.”I said.

“They have a daughter? That’s terrible.” She said as she returned to her paperwork.

“She’s a foster child, has only been with them a short while.” I explained.

“Well, it won’t be quite as hard on her then I guess.”

“What do you mean? Is he going to be in the hospital a while you think?” I asked.

“No, that heart attack, or whatever it was, was really bad. He didn’t make it.” She said.

The Hole Mystery

by | Jun 9, 2011 | Anonymous, Universal Mysteries - 2011 | 0 comments

Part III – Profound and Absurd

It may not matter to you, but it matters to the donut.  Well, if the donut was alive I mean. And if it had a brain and thought about things I mean. And if it could contemplate the cosmos and infinity and eternity and mortality and stuff I mean.  

I mean, if a donut was like you, what would its answer be?

Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily

Quote by Anonymous

One year ago today at The Napkin Dad Daily – Self-Pity

 

The Mystery of Life

by | Jun 8, 2011 | J.J. Van der Leeuw, Universal Mysteries - 2011 | 0 comments

Part II – Profound and Serious:

Linda’s Aunt Marilyn died this week.  She was in the hospital for over two weeks and they never found out what was wrong with her.  She wasn’t in good health; she had diabetes, was on dialysis, had high blood pressure, was overweight.  But she was only 64 and was going about her business pretty well.  But what caused her to become sick and have to go to the hospital, have a viral infection, have heart problems, have low blood pressure, have all sorts of symptoms, was a mystery.  All of these things contributed to her death, but none of them explained the mystery of what caused it.

But there are larger mysteries than how she died.  One mystery is what happens to her after she dies.  Most of her family and friends believe she is now in heaven.  They have their assurance based on faith, but they don’t have evidence of it.  Some others might think she doesn’t go anywhere.  They don’t know for sure either.  It is truly a mystery.

In both cases, medical and spiritual, we yearn for answers.  To think someone can die without the medical world knowing why is a humbling realization. Humbling for the medical profession and humbling to those of us who expect that profession to understand everything.  We must bow to the fact that we will not always know all these answers.  We must experience and live within the mystery.

To know with certainty that our departed loved ones live on in some way is one of the deepest of desires.  But we don’t know with certainty.  All the evidence in the world can point in one direction, then something happens to make us believe in the other direction.  But wherever we land intellectually, whatever we think happens after we die, we can’t know for certain until it is our turn.  We must experience and live within the mystery.

A note about Marilyn:  I didn’t know her until late in her life.  She was kind, thoughtful and attentive to Linda’s new husband (me) and my family. She was especially attentive to my father (who lived with me from 2005-2007) when we would visit her house.  She continued to ask about his welfare long after he moved back to California.  She also was thoughtful and gracious to my daughters when they came to her house as well.  I am grateful for her hospitality and her sweet and caring spirit.

Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily

Quote is my adaption of a quote by J.J. Van der Leeuw.  I added the ‘just’ and the ‘also’ to make it less adamant since I believe it isn’t wholly one way or another.

One year ago today at The Napkin Dad Daily – It is the mountaintop that the lightning strikes

Mystery Creates Wonder

by | Jun 7, 2011 | Neil Armstrong, Series, Universal Mysteries - 2011 | 0 comments

Part One: Trivial and Funny

Yesterday I found a hammer on my bed.  That was a mystery.  It made me wonder.  I wanted to understand why the hammer was on my bed.  I took a picture of the hammer on my bed. I posted the picture of the hammer on my bed on Facebook and Twitter to show others the mystery I had found. I wanted to see what they wondered about the mystery of the hammer on my bed.

Some thought it was a sign,    
Some thought it was a song.
Some thought it was a threat,
Some thought it was wrong.
Hammer on Bed
What does this mystery make you wonder?
Drawing, epic poem, photo and question by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily
Quote by Neil Armstrong, 1930 – not dead yet, American Astronaut, first man to walk on the moon.  My father, who was also in aviation, knew Armstrong. He introduced me to him at an air show in 1969 (the same year he flew to the moon ) and I got his autograph.  That was cool.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 7

by | Jun 5, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 7

I had the most fidgety daughter in the history of church attendance that Sunday. She wasn’t fooled by my attempts to distract her.  She wore her watch for the first time in about a year. She had set her alarm so she could get up and make her final play date preparation.  It was odd because she had many friends and they had come over on a regular basis. She had never invested this much time and effort into their play dates.

Whatever the reasons for her excitement, it certainly made the morning insufferable for me. I was very glad when the doorbell rang at 2 pm on the nose.  Maria was there waiting and the door was opened before the chimes had finished their echo through the house.  Melissa was in a purple jumper, with her hair in pigtails, not dissimilar to Maria’s outfit and hair.  Had there been some conversation about what to wear during their brief time together the week before or had some girl sixth sense taken control of them both? I had no idea. But they could have passed for twins and they were obviously overjoyed at seeing how well they matched. They were both gone in a flash up the stairs before Velma was fully past the threshold of the door.Velma smiled a bit and said, ‘You have no idea what a handful she has been waiting for today.”

“Oh, yes I do, trust me.” I responded.

Velma lost her smile rather quickly and said, “I need to get back, Angus is feeling under the weather. When should I come pick her up?”

“I think they could easily spend the whole afternoon together so why don’t we say around 6. They should be worn out by then.”

Velma smiled again and said, “I reckon that’s a good time. See you then.” She yelled a goodbye up the stairs and we heard a laugh and a bye from Melissa in response.

I didn’t see the two girls again for about 2 hours. I heard them plenty, but I didn’t hear anything break and I didn’t smell anything burning so I left them alone while I caught up on some office paperwork I had been avoiding for too long.

The weekend had been relatively quiet until they started playing because Daria was gone for the weekend, camping with her best friend’s family in Arkansas. Caria had moved out of the house a year before to go to college and was now doing a summer project in Chicago through her school so she hadn’t been around for a while.

I was enjoying the sound of girls playing in the distance, it reminded me of the years all three daughters were young and excited to play together. Daria was now a new teenager, 3 years older than Maria. She wasn’t always amenable to Maria’s pleas to play dress up or build a fort. She was more into experimenting with crazy makeup and asking leading questions about how many piercings I would allow her to get and where. Caria, 5 years older than Daria, would always indulge her younger sisters but once she got her license she just wasn’t around very much.  She had done an excellent job filling in a bit when their mother left, but since I worked from home she never had to take on that role full time.  All the girls were changed by the departure but we had managed well to keep a strong feeling of family intact.

At 4 o’clock the girls bounded down the stairs and announced they were hungry and were going to make a snack for themselves. What that was going to entail I had no idea but Maria knew the rules of the kitchen so I was confident there would be no sharp knives or gas turned on without me being there to supervise.As I heard drawers open and shut, dishes clatter, and more giggles I also heard another sound.  It wasn’t a sound you hear often in Sunrise. When you do it makes you wonder what is happening and to whom.  The sound traveled from east to west, probably coming within a ½ mile of our house before moving away again. The siren sounded like a fire truck.

Think of The Ills From Which You Are Exempt

by | Jun 1, 2011 | Joseph Joubert | 0 comments

What disease don’t you have?


What family tragedy hasn’t happened to yours?


What are you able to do that others cannot?


How lucky are you to have the support you do?


How much money are you able to spend on leisure?


What genetic blessings were you given?


What evil have you avoided?


What close call did you have?


What love are you shown?


How grateful are you?





















Drawing and questions by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily


Quote by Joseph Joubert, 1754-1824, French essayist

One year ago today at The Napkin Dad Daily – Ah, Summer

Interest

by | May 31, 2011 | G. K. Chesterton | 0 comments
Are you bored with life? Don’t know what to do, where to go?  Guess what? It’s YOUR fault.  It’s not where you live, who you are with, what your job is, what your leisure is. It’s not the fault of those things. It’s YOUR fault.  It’s a fault within you.

Am I being too harsh to say it’s a fault?  I don’t think so.  A fault is something that diminishes, detracts, debilitates, and can even destroy a person.  Not being interested in the world, even a small part of it, leads to a small and atrophied life.  Not having enthusiasm, curiosity, open-mindedness about what is happening in the world around you keeps you bored and boring.

Go get a magnifying glass of your own making and look deeper at the world around you. It is fun, interesting, exhilarating and fulfilling.  If you let it be.


Quote by G. K. Chesterton, 1874-1936, English writer

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 6

by | May 29, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 6
Angus and his wife were indeed foster parents. They had been foster parents for more than 35 kids over the years. It looked like they had as many as 7 at one time a decade or so back. “Wow, that’s a lot of kids” I thought to myself. “I have trouble handling three!”  I kept wondering how they would keep all their names straight.
My method for remembering the names of my 3 girls was easy enough. My wife had insisted they all be named similarly. We named our first Caria. She was named after her mother’s great aunt. She was the one who traveled the world and changed her name to Caria from Mildred after a year-long trip to Italy during the 1920s. She left with the name Mildred Smithers and came home as Caria Anastasia. She legally changed her name and would never answer to her old name again.

My wife, Pam, had always loved her great aunt. She had given her trinkets from her journeys, let her play with the incredible clothing and fabric she brought home, and would tell the most mesmerizing stories of exotic locales.

Our second child was named Daria. She was named after a multinational corporation. We went on a road trip vacation to Canada one summer and we found these little bite-sized pieces of chocolate glory called Twigg’s Shortbread Snacks. My wife became addicted to them during the trip. We found out later that she had just become pregnant and it was the first of her many obsessive cravings for the next 9 months.  She would mail order the chocolates once we got home and while the chocolate was from Twigg’s,  the boxes came from a company named Daria, LTD. in England.  So, in true eccentric fashion we named her Daria to rhyme with Caria.  Her nickname was Twiggy.
Our third child was named Maria. She was named to rhyme with the first two. If I ever had to corral all three at one time I would simply yell out ‘CaDaMa, It’s time to go!” or “CaDaMa, Clean your rooms NOW!” It made it easy.About a week later, I was back at the Post Office. I was returning yet another letter that was put in my box to Bettina. This one was a boring business letter and when I handed it to her I said, “You know, if you are going to put wrong envelopes in my box you could at least make them like the colorful one from a few weeks ago.”

Bettina exclaimed, “OH, guess what! That little girl, Melissa, came in just yesterday and gave me the most beautiful envelope to send. She had painted it herself. It was of a sunrise and she was SO proud of it. It was amazing.” I smiled and told Bettina about the watercolor lesson and Melissa’s foster father.

Bettina said, “Yea, I know Angus. He’s been around here forever. He comes across as a crotchety old geezer but he really is a kind man. His wife is even nicer. They have been taking in kids forever.”

“Maria really wants Melissa to come over to play, but I got the distinct feeling Angus wasn’t to hot on the idea.” I said.
“I bet if you talk to his wife she will allow it. Like I said, she is nicer than Angus. He tends to stay to himself and isn’t big on socializing. I am surprised you haven’t seen her before. She comes in every other day around 2:30. Come by then and see if you can catch her.” Bettina suggested.
The next day I was there at 2:30 and Bettina introduced me to Velma Billet. Actually, once I saw her face I realized I had opened the door for her a few times at the Post Office. She had stuck in my mind as having the look of the quintessential farm wife. She was thin on top in a tan work shirt, with a bit of roundness in her jeans below. Her face was tan and deeply lined, made more so by the big smile she always had on her face. She had a rich pony-tailed cascade of brilliant silver hair that fell all the way to her butt.

As we talked she told me all about Melissa’s further attempts at painting. She had gone through 25 envelopes before she finally had one painted the way she wanted. She said Melissa had talked non-stop that first day about learning so much and about the new friend she had made.
Velma loved the idea of Melissa having a playmate and agreed to have her come over later in the week. When I got home I told Maria that Melissa would be coming over on Sunday after church. Maria was beside herself with joy and set about planning their afternoon adventure.

The Pursuit of Beauty

by | May 27, 2011 | John Kenneth Galbraith | 0 comments

Pursuit of Beauty shirt
Pursuit of Beauty – women’s organic t-shirt by The Napkin Dad
Pursuit of Beauty mug
Pursuit of Beauty – Coffee mug by The Napkin Dad
Beauty is ever evolving. Yes, we have certain culturally prevalent inclinations. But they are also changing, they always do.  Look at fashion, furniture, appliances, surfaces, landscapes, decorations, makeup, hairstyles, etc. What is the one consistent thing about all of those? They are always changing. ALWAYS. 

What about the ‘beauty’ you don’t like?  I had a long conversation in a Facebook thread this week. We were talking about some people’s discomfort at how much skin is shown in today’s American society. The other person in the conversation (a woman) thinks most of a woman or man’s body should be seen only by their spouse.  She thinks it demeans and dilutes a marriage for people to show off their bodies in skimpy attire and skimpy bathing suits.  

The two of us have very different opinions about this. BUT what we do have in common is the belief we both have the right to define beauty for ourselves.  She should not be made fun of or pressured to show more than she wants, nor should she be pressured to not state her opinion about what is, in her mind, appropriate to be worn in public.

The flip side is to make sure that, while she has the freedom to express and pursue her own ideas of beauty, she shouldn’t take that idea of beauty and make it absolute for others (and neither should anyone else).


The truth is YOU get to decide what is beautiful, whether in yourself, in others or in the world. You have the right and freedom to pursue your idea of beauty. 

Pursue and enjoy it.



Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily