Not a tear to shed

• inspired by the song "Paint me a Birmingham" by Tracy Lawrence 

He sat and watched the waves break against the shore.  He was not a heavy drinker; however, he took this opportunity to reflect on his life that he felt had hit a standstill since his break-up.  Lighting up a cigarette, he contemplated a relationship gone amiss.   The music played in the background highlighting the somber mood in which he was engulfed.

It began five months ago and ended abruptly after three short weeks.  Her beauty was undeniable.   But, that was not that which had drawn him to her.  It was the traits of a confident and demure woman that had begun the attraction.  When he was with her he felt at ease and as if nothing could possibly waver the bliss and tranquility he felt.

A large wave crashed against the shore.  He took another sip of his beer and lit another cigarette.  It was near dusk and the sun was beginning to set into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze refreshed his senses. 

Alone, he sat at a mostly empty bar staring at the direction of the ocean and contemplating recent events.  Not one to overly indulge in alcohol, he slowly finished his first beer.  He sat alone and watched the beach-goers pass by. 

The waitress returned to his table.  A young man sitting in solitude at this bar was rare, but she did not think much of it.  He gazed out into the ocean with a guise of indifference.  There were a few other patrons at the bar, but he chose to sit alone.  The waitress briefly glanced at him as she approached his table.  Her only thought was to wonder what caused a man to sit alone in such seclusion.  Usually the regulars at the bar would come with their friends and enjoy light-hearted camaraderie.

She asked him if he would like her to bring him another beer.  Without a sound, he motioned towards his glass asking for another.  Walking away she glanced at him, not considering a man alone in a location usually reserved for merriment.

Remembering their first meeting, he was sitting at a coffee shop reading a book and enjoying a warm espresso.  It was a small place across town reserved for those interested in light conversation and a mellow atmosphere.  As he read his book, he noticed her looking in his direction.  She smiled at him in a most modest manner.  It was not usually a venue for meeting people; however he walked up to her and asked if he could join her.

He felt an immediate connection with her, conversing with ease and feeling complete assurance. 

They had dated for only a few weeks, but during those three weeks he felt carefree with confidence that what he felt for her was true.

The waitress returned to his table with his beer.  He thanked her as he set another dollar beer on the table. 

The sun had nearly sunk entirely into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze chaffed against his skin.  As he took a few more sips out of his beer he lit another cigarette. 

Without recourse for solace, he began to regress in remembrance of what for a short time had been perfection.  Upon contemplation all he could feel was regret.

He finished his beer and placed another dollar on the table.  He looked at the stars in the sky and walked home on the brisk summer night.  Tomorrow he would work, while attempting to bury the painful memories of what he knew meant to him more than it should.

A Family's Hope

• inspired by the song "The Impossible" by Joe Nichols

“Watch out!” Steve yelled.  “It’s about to fall.”

Monty looked up, but it was too late.  The rafter that had been suspended by the crane fell from twenty feet up and trapped Monty.  Hanging precariously fifty feet above, was a steel beam in danger of plummeting to the ground.

Pinned underneath the rafter, Monty was unable to move.  He was not seriously injured, just trapped.

The steel beam was suspended above in danger of plunging to the ground and hitting Monty.  Monty could not carry himself from harm’s way.  The much larger beam would surely crush the life out of him.

From across the yard, Steve leaped into a Bobcat.  He would be able to lift Monty, who was pinned between a wedge of wood and the rafter, and bring him to safety.  He elevated Monty, along with his entrenchment, from the site of the accident as the steel beam suspended above was falling.  The beam fell on top of the Bobcat, breaking through the roof and landing on Steve’s legs.  Monty walked away with little more than a scare, but both of Steve’s legs were badly broken.   One had a clean break just below the hip.  Blood gushed from the wound and the broken bone protruded from his flesh. 

The other workers ran to Steve’s aid.

“I can’t feel my legs!” Steve cried out in anguish.  They immediately brought him to a hospital, but it was believed that it might be too late to return function to his legs.  It was thought that he may even loose them entirely.

Over a month had passed since the horrible incident.  With his youngest daughter’s wedding five months away, he would not be able to lead her down the aisle.  Bound by a wheelchair at this time, he would be forced to watch from those among the church.

“Therapy will get you nowhere” the doctor assured him.  “It is possible that you may be able to walk with crutches.”

Steve and his wife, Lara, were both very religious.  Their faith in God was unwavering.  They believed that, with fortitude and persistence, that Steve would walk again.  The precious dream of walking his daughter down the aisle was unshakable. 

The doctor recommended therapy that, but he pledged to Steve and Lara that it was hopeless.  Yet, they believed that God helps those who help themselves and with unflinching determination he engaged in the therapy.

Daily, he underwent his regiment of therapy.  Steadfastly, although painfully, he forced the tortuous exercise that would liberate him from his crippled condition.  He visited the therapeutic wing of the hospital and held himself up by his shoulders as he slowly staggered down the short passageway.  Three months into the therapy and he was able to place some of the burden of his weight on his legs, but he carried the vastness of it with his arms.        

“You don’t have to try so hard,” his wife pleaded as she wept from the suffering the rehabilitation was causing.  “Your daughter knows that you love her.  Being at the wedding will be enough for her.  You don’t have to put yourself through all of this.”

His determination was steadfast.  With each day he grew stronger.  One day, waking up in the morning, rising to sit in his wheelchair and make his way to breakfast; a pivotal advancement in his recovery occurred.  He felt a strange sensation in his legs where, for months, he had felt nothing.  Tingling, as if oxygen was being infused into his muscles, alerted him that a recovery might be possible.  He immediately informed his wife of the news.

After months of rehabilitation tears filled her eyes as she shared the same realization that their persistence and prayers might finally be answered.  

The wedding was upon them, only a couple of weeks away.  By this time, Steve was mostly carrying himself around on crutches.  The bulk of his weight was carried by his arms and the crutches, but complete feeling had now returned to his legs.

His daughter, Jessica, about to marry her longtime fiancé, Alex, had shared her mother’s sentiment during her father’s entire recovery.  The pain the injury had inflicted also struck her emotions brutally.  “You don’t have to do it,” she pleaded to her father.  “All that matters to me is that you are there.”

On the day of her wedding, his father assured her he would not only be there, but he would provide his daughter with the right of passage owed to her.  “I will give you the wedding you deserve,” he said.  “I don’t know if you know this, but this day is as important to me as it is to you.”

Her wedding day arrived and their family and friends gathered.  She was dressed in a white gown and her groom in his tuxedo waited at the front of the church for her.  Her father who had been walking with only a cane, at times, for the past week insisted that would not be enough.  The wedding procession began.  However painful, he put aside his cane and walked his daughter down the aisle to meet her groom and begin her new life.

The emotions overtook his wife and she cried not only for her daughter, but also for herself and for her husband.  With steadfast determination, Steve was able to give his daughter the wedding of which they all dreamed.

A Day in the Bahamas

He awoke to a crisp spring morning.  The clean ocean air invigorated his senses.  He rose early from his slumbers.  As he enjoyed his morning cigarette the aroma of his fresh, brewing coffee welcomed a new day. 

After showering, he went back to the balcony to enjoy another cigarette.  With The Beatles Abbey Road album playing in unison to the tranquil atmosphere of the spring morning, he drank a cup of coffee, relishing it with another cigarette.

For breakfast he made himself an egg sandwich on an English muffin.  On the side he had homemade hash browns with four slices of avocado.  A glass of orange juice and another cup of coffee completed his meal.

Accompanied by a mass of young college students, he walked towards the home room of his philosophy class.  The friendly aura of the day seemed to be shared by all.  He walked towards his class, immersed in the beauty of the college co-eds that surrounded him.  Halfway through the walk, he noticed an attractive, young blonde college girl.  She, as was most of the campus, was probably in her early twenties.  He gazed upon her briefly, appreciating her soft, long blonde hair and her perfectly toned body accented by a halter top and a tight pair of cut-off jeans.  A girl of such beauty coming into view was not rare in this college setting, but he savored each occasion.

He continued through campus to his classroom.  He sat down about five minutes before class was to begin.  The conversation which was led by the professor was always fascinating.   That is why he chose to study the subject of philosophy.

The professor started the class discussion.  The topic of the class was the philosophers of The Renaissance.   The argument by Descartes on “I think, therefore I am” was the topic for today’s class. 

The professor began his lecture, but he always welcomed participation from his students.  After beginning the lecture, briefly restating Descartes’ thoughts, a large collection of the students joined in. 

One student, not highly enamored by what he considered to be the trite nature of Descartes’ argument volunteered.  In a polished and scholarly manor he stated, “The problem with the philosophy of Descartes is that the nature of his synopsis doesn’t amount to anything substantial.   Through the course of his argument he does little to enlighten his readers about anything intriguing or even interesting at all.  It is simply an exercise in rhetorical discourse.”

The professor, not distressed with the disinterest of his student’s protest, said, “Your argument is completely valid.  However, this is characteristic of the philosophers of The Renaissance.  They do not intend to provoke thought on pressing moral or political issues; rather, they attempt to exercise the intellect wherever it may lead.”

A young college co-ed, in her fourth year of education and a major in philosophy contributed to the conversation.  “Descartes, as espoused in his similar discussion of ‘what makes a ball of wax a ball of wax,’ participated in the same intellectual exercise.   Through challenging the intellect, liberation of the mind can be achieved.”

The class was fascinating and it stimulated Jonathan much more than most of his other classes did.  The classroom discussion ended an hour and a half after it began and the students dispersed to whichever was their next destination.   As he walked away he marveled at the intelligence of those attending college with him.

He did not have any more classes today, so he went about to the chores of the rest of his day.  Once again, he enjoyed the beauty of the college co-eds and felt exhilarated when one caught his eye and smiled in his direction.

As typical on a Monday, he stopped by the library on his way home from class to take in a couple hours of studying.  Although he enjoyed the trivialities of college life, he managed to maintain the focus on his education.  The day was uneventful.  It was spent by time in the library studying and by the forty-five minutes he spent at the coffee shop catching up on reading in his medieval history class.

The day was now over and another night in the college town which transformed itself into a resort every evening was ready to begin. 

He went back to his apartment after a mostly solitary day.  He showered and put on clean clothes to meet up with his friends.  Although he lived alone, his friends were plentiful.  He was friends with his neighbors as well as with a large gathering of other college students.  On many afternoons he shared a couple of beers with his neighbors in light-hearted camaraderie.  Tonight he would meet with a collection of his friends and they would test their fortunes on picking up college girls at a local bar.

Two of Jonathan’s good friends, Brian and Justin, met up with him at his apartment for a pre-party before a night of revelry which was about to begin.  From the wide selection of Jonathan’s CD’s, he chose a Credence Clearwater Revival CD.  They all stood on the balcony enjoying cigarettes and premium Budweiser lager.  After shot-gunning their third beer, they made their way half a mile through the small college town to their favorite bar.

The exercise in which they engaged brought excitement simply in light of the beauty of the college girls by which they were surrounded.  They picked out a table and began sharing a pitcher of beer as they submerged themselves in the atmosphere of the billiards club.

Instead of making a rash attempt to pick up a particular girl, the friends knew it best to let the evening evolve into what it would.  After a few more beers, Jonathan, Brian, and Justin went to the back patio to light up a cigarette.

Upon entering the patio, Jonathan saw a girl that he had seen a week before and immediately walked up to her as she gazed in his direction.  She was the one to initiate the conversation, “Can I have a cigarette?”  She asked him with a semi-sarcastic smirk on her face.

He happily obliged.  After a few minutes of conversation, Jonathan invited her and her friends to meet them at the pool table.  Brian and Justin were perfectly happy with this turn of events because it brought them into the cusp with the girl’s three friends.

The night went along as all nights did.  They all drank, but began to slow down after their fourth or fifth beer.  The night of frivolity was not lost upon them and Jonathan and Brian each went home with a girl’s phone number promising to meet up with them later in the week.

College life in this town was like a day in The Bahamas.  A day in The Bahamas is always a nice distraction from college living.