Reverted
“Do you want to go to the Titans game?” I looked behind me to see if the young man was talking to someone else but, no, there was only me, the old lady walking her dog. Three doors down from where I live is an ever-changing house full of young people. I don’t know if they’re college students or young professionals but on this particular morning, they were all piling into cars and trucks adorned with Tennessee Titans flags, headed to an early game and tailgate party. I speak to them often when I’m walking Prince and they’re always kind and respectful. But inviting me to a game? That was unexpected. “No, thanks!” I said. They waved and took off, while I wondered why anyone would want to go to a game when they could watch it on TV from the comfort of their own...
Clover
It was the stuff of celebrations, those little white balls. We had a lot of it in our back yard when I was small. Clover. Simple clover. But I loved it. I would throw myself into one particularly large patch, grab handfuls of the balls and throw them in the air. As they rained down on me, I would shout, “Happy New Year!”–a child’s version of fireworks that light the sky when each year approaches. I wasn’t the only one to enjoy the clover. Our pet rabbit, Cottontail, lived in a hutch that leaned against the back of our house. We occasionally let her out to eat clover to her heart’s content. She loved it…as well as the merry chase that followed when trying to return her to the hutch. We enjoyed our large back yard, with its huge patches of clover and space to...
Shrink
I forgot the appointment, first time ever. But the stresses in this season of life caused my semi-annual visit to the psychiatrist to slip my mind. I was diagnosed clinically depressed, with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder twenty years ago, so I’ve regularly seen a doctor to get Prozac, a helpful coping tool. Surprisingly, the doctor’s office didn’t call when I no-showed. They did, however, send a $40 bill, which I promptly paid. It was several months later, faced with both of my children and their families moving further away, and nearly out of my wonder drug, that I called to reschedule. This is where the trouble began. “It looks like you were last seen in January,” the receptionist said. “No, I forgot that...
Call
My head has been a mess. I don’t know if it’s allergies or a simple cold but my head goes from perfectly fine one minute to a raging river the next. When that river flows, all the nose-blowing in the world won’t help—unless I’m willing to sit by the tissue box all night. I was too tired to do that last night, so I blew out all I could then went to bed. But it kept coming, faucet on full throttle, with me constantly snorting stuff back up my nose and down my throat. Not only was I on the verge of drowning, but I sounded like a goose honking. Lovely sounds. My husband, who had been sleeping soundly, thought so. “Gettin’ excited over here,” he said, “listening to your mating calls.” That’s one way of casting a problem in a better...
ID
I love caller ID. At work, it keeps me from wasting valuable time with salespeople. At home, it saves me from much more. And the fact that my home answering machine talks to me, keeps me from even having to stop the gourmet feast I have in progress to look at the phone. True, I don’t always understand the computer-generated voice, but I’ve learned to translate. “Ed Vilo Vilo” actually means “8-0-0.” In other words, it’s a 1-800 number. Salesman. Don’t answer. “Hope” and “Mars Hill College” want money. True, I went to MHC and think it’s a great school, but I don’t have money to send them. Again, don’t answer. “Name Un-a-val-a-bl.” If the name of the joker calling is not available, neither am I. I get calls from all over the country: Oregon, New Hampshire, Houston,...
Ghost
Chris was a preschooler, only four or five, when he decided to be a ghost for Halloween. Good mother that I am, I sewed a real costume. No simple sheet for my child. I fashioned a white tunic for him that slipped over his head, elastic around the neckline, and long sleeves, with a separate hood that went to his shoulders and had holes cut for eyes and mouth. Pretty scary looking! On Halloween night, after putting on his costume, Chris decided it billowed too much. He didn’t want the fabric getting in the way while walking through the neighborhood trick-or-treating, so he tied a short rope around his waist and set out, looking very ghostly, we thought, in the dark. One of the homes we visited was that of a teacher from his preschool. She seemed truly...
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