Taylored Words

  We had several boxes that contained miscellaneous paperwork from his youth such as, drawings, magazines, and mementos from his high school swing choir and band years. These boxes had sat, untouched for years, moving with us from house to apartment to apartment. I painfully pulled out these items, some of which I could smile and reminisce over, but some brought absolutely no memory to mind. Some boxes had newspapers and books, some had mementos from my kids’ scholastic life, homework assignments, artwork, school newsletters, etc. A lifetime of paperwork. The packrats that we were, certainly included boxes of utility bills, credit card statements, and bank statements from decades ago. I sorted the box contents into a box to “keep”, a box for his parents, and a box to donate. Besides the sorting boxes, I kept a trash bag handy. If it was of no value to anyone, I immediately threw it away. I was grateful to have my sister come a couple times to help me sort, and some friend...

            I decided to try to sell some larger items, like furniture, especially since I knew I would be moving into a smaller place. I could think of no reason to keep some of the larger pieces of furniture. Once I determined which pieces I would try to sell, I posted them on Facebook Marketplace priced to sell quickly! A couple of items, like the fancy, oak roll-top desk, a friend wanted. Those I gladly gave away. I sold a small, glass curio cabinet with lights you could turn on and off, and a big China hutch with a glass cupboard on top, and three drawers underneath. People met me at my apartment and I felt somewhat safe, as there were other residents in the building and most met me during the day. However, one time someone contacted me about the sewing machine and cabinet I had for sale, but they wanted to meet me at 8 pm. They said they needed to wait until their husband was off work, to come over and pick it up. I decided to agree, ...

  Upon entering the room, I saw her lime green nightgown loosely encasing her frail body as she sat on her bed.  Her full head of white hair neatly combed, and her glasses sat on the nightstand.  It was only 6:15 p.m. “I’m sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” Even though I could see her aged, long legs beneath the night gown, she made no attempt to cover herself neither with blanket nor bathrobe.  “I always get ready for bed early”, Easter explained, “but come on in”.  She motioned for me to sit in her wheelchair, which sat near her bed, heavily laden with towels, tissues, and straws. I sat down in the wheelchair, and she began explaining that because she didn’t have anything to do after supper, she usually prepared for bed and laid down.  She shared how she had once stayed in her wheelchair and sat in the doorway but felt the employees didn’t like maneuvering around her while going down the hallway.  As I sat down and surveye...

                The years have been harsh. I feel as if I will not walk this world much longer. I have tried to live well, but alas, my many years of high living have taken a toll on this old shell of mine.                Why, even my morning showers have become a grotesque wrestling match, as I attempt to scrub every nook and cranny! I shudder to think of the pimply road map the medical examiner might find upon my demise—a relief map of areas I strained to reach, all foretold by the highs and lows of those adolescent bumps!                Not to mention those areas that were often neglected in my youth but now appear to be areas in deep need of constant attention. Like behind my ears, around the corners of my mouth, and those unforgiving pimples in my nostrils! At what point did daily washing necessitate ...

  I was introduced to Dale shortly before his 80 th birthday. Dale was a retired preacher and poet who had been widowed from his wife many years. I first started visiting him because I was a closet writer, and I learned he was a writer and had published books of poetry. So, I visited as often as I could, spending hours listening to stories of his life in the ministry, of his wife, who he lovingly referred to as “Dearie,” and his tales of surviving the depression, like finding discarded rotten potatoes to take home to his mom for soup. He would often read me some of his new “lines” of poetry. After his 90 th birthday, I heard his family moved him from his house of many years into a senior retirement community. I tracked down his address and planned a visit. He was happy to see me, and we enjoyed some great conversation. He said he liked being able to walk down the hall and talk to people, and he said the staff were very friendly. However, the look on his face did not match his ...

  I listened to the news that the 109 th Medical Battalion would be shipping out to join “Operation: Desert Storm”.             I froze. I belonged to the 294 th Dental Detachment, under the 109 th . Did that mean I would be shipping out to join the fray??             I glanced at the toddler at my feet and my thoughts raced, “Was our unit going with them? How long would I be gone? Would I even come back? What would I do with my son?”             A huge knot formed in my stomach as the realization traveled through my entire body. My husband, also a member of the 294 th , was currently stationed at Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, for a two-month training. If I shipped overseas while he remained at Fort Ben, I would need temporary and maybe long-term caregiving arrangements for my nine-month-old son. Would he s...