Gray Days Aren’t Always Gloomy

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Found an old draft of a story I never did anything with. The word prompt was Gloomy. Celebrating my 18 year Anniversary of this blog, and my 58th Birthday with some nostalgia, as this story takes place in the 80s.

“Hey Steffi, it’s time to get up. Uncle John will be here soon to drive the moving van, and Dad wants to get on the road soon. We’ll stop for breakfast before we get to the house.”

I throw the covers over my head as she walks out the door. I lay there for a few minutes longer dreading this day. Since everything is all packed up, I slept on the floor last night. I stretch and look out the window. Great. A gray, gloomy day perfectly matching my mood.

Thank God it’s not a long drive, just a about two hours, so I’ve been told. I have new batteries for my Walkman so that I can listen to music or sleep. I definitely don’t want to have a conversation with my parents and have to hear about how wonderful the new house will be. . .how I’ll meet so many new friends at school . . . what a wonderful opportunity this will be for all of us . . .blah, blah, blah. They have no idea how bad this sucks for me, leaving everything behind. It’s not like I had a ton a friends or was popular, but it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s not easy to make a change you have no control over. I’ll be the new kid for my senior year!

We stop at a little restaurant, breakfast was good. But, seriously, who could mess up pancakes?  As we get back in the car, the parental unit inform me we are about 30 minutes away. They are totally excited, and I’m like oh gag, but maybe that’s because I haven’t even seen the house yet.

I settle in the back seat with my eyes closed, chilling out to some Depeche Mode. Its’ not long before my mom taps me on my knee, prompting me to remove my headphones. “Honey, this is our new town, we are here! Well. . . this is just one part of town, there’s the oil refinery your dad will be working at.” She looks at him beaming with pride.

I rub my eyes, thinking I’m still asleep and having a very bad dream. How is she so happy about this? There is smoke pouring out of stacks of steel. . .there are huge round metal tanks that line the opposite side of street. There is fire! Actual. . . fire. . . in the sky! And what is that smell? Is it possible that the day got even more dreary as we entered into this godforsaken place?

“You’re joking right.  This place. . .we live. . . here.” I can’t even form a coherent sentence.

“Yes Steffi, stop being so dramatic. It’s a nice little town.”

We spend the day unpacking. One good thing about the move, my mom found a job for me. Her friend’s daughter works at the local flower shop and is heading off to college in the fall. She’ll be training me this summer to take her place. I’m excited, it’s a job and it will get me out of the house. She and I met once before but I don’t remember too much about her, so I’m glad when she stops by. My mom greets her with a big hug. “Jenny just look at you all grown up and getting ready to go to college.”

Jen laughs, “Yes, I’m very excited.” She turns to me, “it’s good to see you again, Steffi right?”

I nod my head. “Hey, thanks for the job, I’m really looking forward to it.”

“I think you’ll like it, it’s pretty easy.”

My mom excuses herself, “I’ll let you two girls talk, I have so much to do.”

“Bye Mrs. Landis, my mom says she’ll stop by this weekend.” Jen heads towards the door. “I better get going, I just wanted to stop by and let you know I’ll pick you up for work tomorrow at 11.” She says more quietly, “Oh, and by the way, I go by ‘Jen’ now.” We both laugh as she leaves. “See you tomorrow!”

The rain has finally stopped, so I step outside to take a look around. I just need some time away from my mom and all the unpacking. She is just too cheerful, maybe she’s in denial. We have a decent-sized yard; I walk to the back of the house that is close to what I am told you call an alley. There are stairs that go up to a door. Not sure where that would even lead to in the house. The side of the stairs is a brick wall that has a little ledge at the top. I climb up the stairs and realize I can sit on the ledge. A nice little spot to chill.

I see a guy walking towards me, I don’t think he sees me. He is totally hot, dark hair, tanned skin, athletic build. Oh Shit! He sees me. I try to play it off but can’t, so I give him a little wave.

“Hi! You’re new here, did you just move in?” He’s got this smile

“Yep, first day here in this beautiful oasis.” Spreading my arms out like Vanna White revealing the next prize puzzle.

“Yeah, hardly, you’ll get used to it though. My name is Alex, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Stephanie, but everyone calls me Steffi.”

Looking at his watch, “uh, sorry, I need to run.  I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around Steph.” He waves and then breaks out into a casual jog.

Like oh my God! The way he called me Steph! He probably knows I am totally checking him out as he disappears down the alley, but I don’t care! Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.

The next day Jen picks me up and we walk to work.  The job is pretty easy, and the summer is fun. Jen and I become fast friends and spend a lot of time together outside of work. She introduces me to people I will be going to school with, so I won’t feel like the new kid. I’m really going to miss her when she leaves for college.

One day at the flower shop, Jen and I are trimming flowers for a few arrangements when Alex walks in. “Hey Jen, Hey Steph” he says with a wave as he walks past us to the front counter. Jen elbows me and gives me a look. He picks up an order, and leaves with another wave, and that smile. “Bye Jen, Bye Steph.”

When the door closes behind him. Jen turns to me, “And how do you know Alex?”

Trying so hard not to smile, but failing miserably, “I met him yesterday, he walked past my house, and we had short convo. How well do you know him?”

“All I know is that he is super-hot, and older than both of us. He must be home for the summer. He does live close to you, so that explains him walking past your house. Like I said, he’s older than both of us, I doubt we’ll be hanging out with the same people.”

A girl can dream. I think to myself as I start to clean up.

Jen was right about Alex. We don’t hang out in the same crowd, but he does walk past my house from time to time. When he does, he stops to talk and our conversations have gotten longer. A few times we would move and sit in the backyard talking until the lightning bugs came out. It was easy talking to him, comfortable. Other times while I was out with Jen and our friends at the various town festivals, I’d see him. He would tap his watch and smile. He knew I had a curfew and what time it was, knowing I just had to be home at that time. It was then that he would show up for a visit.

When the summer was coming to an end, I didn’t think to ask him about staying in touch once he went back to school, and he never offered. I was crazy to think that he would want to continue whatever this was. Compared to him I was just a kid, why would he want to continue talking to me when he could find an actual woman on his college campus.  

So, we never had a long goodbye or anything. His last visit was just that, his last visit. Yet at the time I had no idea that it was. But looking back I think that was for the best. All I had were good memories and I never forgot about him. Years later, all it took was for me to hear a song on the radio by his favorite band for me to think about him.  I convinced myself that we were just friends, he was like a big brother to me, and that’s what I told anyone when I talked about him. But in my heart, I always wanted more.

I wake up to a gray, gloomy day. It’s my 50th birthday today, and pretty much matches my mood. I don’t expect much anymore for my birthday, over the years it seemed like something negative always happened around my birthday. But I guess that’s pretty normal when you are in a challenging marriage, thank God those days are behind me, and I got out when I did. I make my coffee and grab a muffin. I scroll through social media and read all the birthday wishes. I almost choke on my muffin when I come to the one from Alex – ‘Wishing a very special birthday to a special young lady who I once fancied but never told.’

What the hell? Him and I became friends on social media some years ago, he’s wished me a happy birthday every year since, but that has been about it. I read the post again, I’m shocked, but can’t stop smiling. As I let that greeting sink in, I look out the window and I’m reminded that it was a day just like today when I first met him. It must be a sign! My mind is flooded with so many good memories from that summer.

I type out my response to send as a private message. Letting him know I once fancied him too. My thumb hovers over the send button far too long. I keep reading and re-reading my message before I actually hit send. Because I know once I do this message could very well change the course of my life.

*send*

Gah! What have I just done? My heart is racing but in a good way. I am 50 years old, and I feel like I’m in high school again! After 20 plus years of marriage, I don’t know how to talk to guys!

We spend the rest of the day messaging back and forth, catching up and talking like no time has passed since those summer days in my backyard.

I guess this day isn’t so bad after all. In fact, I think it is my best birthday yet!

Photo by Tīna Sāra on Unsplash

Rhythm is Gonna Get You

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Reposting one of my favorite stories for the anniversary of the Cicadas! I cannot believe it has been 17 years since I experienced the last invasion of the cicadas, it’s something I’ll never forget it. This story is based on that. Needless to say the kids and I freaked out when we saw thousands of them all perched on the blades of grass in our yard. It’s like they all just appeared in full force one morning.  My oldest son filled his super-soaker water gun and open fired on them, and they did. not. move.  The noise is just as I described, and can produce a sound in excess of 100 decibels, a loud rock concert measures in at 120 decibels.  My mom did not believe me when I told her the noise was constant and how loud it was until she experienced it herself.  This went on for weeks. The noise does get to you after awhile, but it’s definitely an amazing phenomenon of nature.

I start my day early like I always do. With coffee and newspaper in hand, I step out on my deck to enjoy the early morning quietness before work. My yard is my haven, my sanctuary, the place I retreat to for peace and quiet. My job on the floor at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange is anything but peaceful. I stand up, take a deep breath of fresh air, and set my things down on the patio table. Stepping off the deck to check on my hanging planters, I near the grass. Something was odd, different. Yes, it was taller than normal, and at the top of my to do list for the weekend. But as I crouch down, I notice a large insect resting on the tip of a grass blade. As my eyes adjust, there are actually thousands of them, all balancing gracefully on the grass tips. Unlike flies, they are undaunted by my presence or sudden movement as I step back. Returning to the patio table to drink my coffee, I open the newspaper, my attention drawn to a headline that reads 17-YEAR AND 13-YEAR CICADAS EMERGE AT THE SAME TIME. Skimming over the article, I peer out at the scene before me, yep, they have arrived. I head to work without giving another thought to this unwelcome disruption of my sanctuary

Little did I know that this would be the day from hell. I lost a boatload of money for one of my biggest clients, I’m lucky I didn’t lose my job. Damn, I haven’t made a rookie mistake like that in 17 years. My boss is being generous, he requests I take a mandatory vacation. One to clear my head so I can get back in the game. I’ve seen it happen to many of my colleagues, never thought I’d be one of them. I stayed alert, stayed sharp, but this unexpected turn of the market came out of nowhere, I wasn’t the only one who lost big.

I spend the first 45 minutes of my drive home in silence to decompress. The last leg of my trip, I crank up the tunes until I pull into my driveway greeted by the sweet sounds of nature that my overpriced mortgage affords me.

I pull up and turn off the ignition. I pause, it isn’t quiet. What I hear is something I’ve never heard before. It is a loud hum, a buzzing kind of sound, yet it is very melodic, it isn’t made by one, but rather a legion. The sound reverberates from the trees, the volume ebbs and flows like the swell of waves coming on to shore. I notice my grass is no longer covered with insects. Just like the article said, they retreat into the trees and make a lot of noise, this won’t be so bad.

I walk into the house, expecting to be hit with cool air, but I’m not. I don’t hear the central air unit running and check the thermostat. It’s set on 68, but it reads almost 83 as the indoor temp. Just what I need, I’ll deal with that tomorrow, I’ll just open some windows.

All evening, and well into the night, the cadence of the cicada’s musicality serenades me. But finally, by about 11 p.m., as if some great maestro waved his wand, it stops. The silence is deafening. Good I can get some sleep. Oh, there were a few interruptions throughout the night, occasionally one rogue cicada buzzed just to be heard, like a petulant child. But for the most part quiet.

The next morning is a different story. With the rising of the sun, the cicadas awoke, somewhat discombobulated. There was no melodic tune. It was more sporadic, creating a cacophony that I thought would make my ears bleed.

I make several calls trying to get a heating and cooling guy out today, no such luck. It won’t be until the first of the week. It is what it is, I move on with my day. I go outside to cut the grass, first checking to be sure none of the insects are still there, all clear. With the lawnmower humming, I begin my trek across the yard. The cicadas must be drawn to the sound of the mower, they begin to swarm around me landing on my arms and back. They don’t bite or sting, they are just annoying, so much so I have to go back inside. As the sun begins to set, the dissonance turns into a melodic lullaby.

Several days pass, the constant sound makes me irritable and fidgety. My best friend and colleague calls and texts several times, leaving messages just to check on me. Each time the phone rings or pings with an incoming message, I feel like I could jump out of my skin. I don’t return his calls; my text replies are brief. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone. It’s as if the cicada’s rhythm controls me. During the day, I’m agitated and unable to focus, but as the evening comes to a close, the lull calms me. A Google search of these annoying invaders gives me an article that says they are good to eat, even includes a recipe, hmm.

The following afternoon, I fire up the grill and prepare myself a nice meal. Just as I prepare to dig into my barbecue feast, my phone chirps with an incoming message.

Dude, haven’t heard from you, what’s up?

nothing

You OK?

fine

Thought I might stop by

no, don’t

Why not?

not a good idea. stay away.

The next thing I know, he’s pounding on my door. “Martin, it’s me Greg, open up.”

I’m in no rush to open the door. My greeting lacks any enthusiasm, “Hey Greg.” I flop back down on the couch.

“Dude, what the hell? Ya look like shit.”

Looking down at my clothes I can’t remember what day I put them on. I scratch the stubble on the side of my face. Hmmm I should probably shave.

“Martin!” Greg abruptly says so loud I’m snapped back to reality.

“How can you stand this noise?” He rubs his hand down his face.

“You get used to it. It’s not so bad at night.” I stand up but forget why and look around trying to remember what I was going to do.

Greg must have noticed my befuddlement. “I’m getting you out of here. Find your shoes I’ll grab some of your clothes, you can crash at my place for a while. Why is it so friggin’ hot in here?”

“Air conditioner is broken.” I scan the room for my shoes.

As I lace up my tennis shoes, Greg comes back down with my gym bag full, “C’mon, let’s go.”

We are only a couple of blocks away from my house, when I notice a change in the air. The noise, it’s gone. When I get to Greg’s house, the first thing I do is take a shower. As the hot water streams down my body, I feel like I am waking up from a dream. The events of the last couple of days run through my mind like a bad quality movie.

When I’m dressed, I walk into the kitchen. “Let’s eat!” Greg comes in from outside, with a couple of steaks on a plate. The delicious aroma causes my stomach to grumble. Makes me wonder if I did in fact eat barbecued cicadas. Nah, I couldn’t of.

Photo Cred: Photo by Pankaj Shah on Unsplash

Trip Around the Sun

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Today I begin my 53rd trip around the sun, and boy is it hot out there!! In conjunction with my birthday, I also celebrate the Anniversary of my Blog.  It has been 13 years since I started this blog! When I was turning the big 4-0, I was feeling like time was slipping away and I needed to do something new. So, I decided to start a blog.  At the time, “Mommy Blogs” were gaining popularity so that is what my focus was, since I was a stay-at-home mom, homeschooling my kids.  But soooo much has changed in these 13 years!

I never got a huge blog following, but my blog became my own little space, like a favorite room I could go into and spend some me time.  Even though it was neglected often with the absence of my presence, it has always been here for me all these years. During this time, I have found my voice as a fictional writer, became a published author and met many dear friends in the blogsphere.

Finding my voice as a creative writer came at the same time that I found my voice in my life.  It became clear to me the reason why my “Mommy Blog” never took off; I was struggling as a wife and mother and kept silent. Even though my blog was something just for me, the posts I wrote were shared with my husband before they were published.  This was under the guise of being supportive, but in reality, it was a way of being controlled.  Not in a forceful, I must read anything before you publish way, but in everything that I did, in my mind it was framed by the opinion of what my husband would think, and if he would approve. As I wrote articles in the beginning, they were really more so in his voice, not mine.  But that all changed by the time I had posted my first short story in April of 2015, I was actively seeking counseling and it was confirmed I was in a mentally abusive marriage. That was the beginning of finding myself.  Finally writing my own thoughts and ideas was so liberating.  Once that door was opened, I never wanted to go back. No longer did I need his approval.  It would be several years before I worked through my healing and go through the process of divorce. I still struggle from time to time with trusting my gut and not second guessing myself, but old habits are hard to die, as this was a 27-year marriage.  During that time my blog was quiet. Not only because it was a very stressful time, but I was also building my bookkeeping business so I would have a way to support myself and my kids. My divorce was finalized the beginning of March 2020. I was so ready for this new chapter of my life! I decided to reclaim my maiden name so that I could truly walk in who I am.  But then the pandemic hit and sidelined my newfound freedom. Thankfully, I built a work-from-home business, so I was able to continue working, only losing a few clients.  It has truly been a blessing and I am so grateful to be able to provide for my family by doing something I love.  Though bookkeeping can be mentally draining, which depletes any creative thinking, it has been my first priority and my writing has taken a back seat once again.  But just like any back seat driver, it continues to remind me it is still there, nudging my thoughts with the occasional you really should be writing.

What I have learned through all this is that no matter how impossible things may seem, there is always a better day. You are never too old to follow your dreams or make a drastic change in your life. I just wanted to share my journey in hopes of encouraging someone, especially those in difficult marriages.

So, as I enjoyed my coffee this morning, and looked back at my life, this is where my thoughts had taken me. It took a while to get to where I am at, but I am excited for my future. I received my second vaccine shot on Friday, and things seem to be opening up again. The pandemic was not nice to my physical wellbeing and decided to leave me with a few extra pounds, having me feel every bit of my 53-year-old self. This has been a challenge for me since I have never actively exercised and didn’t have to worry about my weight.  But I have purchased a treadmill and take walks outside and I am determined to get in better shape, so I have more energy, and that I don’t fall victim to heart disease that runs in my family.  I am so excited that my kids gave me a new Cruiser bike and a Samsung Active Smartwatch to track my progress.  My focus for this year, is better health and a better work/life balance so that I can return to my passion for writing. I have good intentions, but we all know that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. We also know that no matter how hard we plan, life likes to throw you a curve ball, just to keep it interesting. I plan to take it one day at a time and celebrate my small victories.

The Reason for the Season

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My childhood memories of Christmas include decorating the house, baking cookies with my mom and siblings, and Christmas parties with friends. When we were younger, we did the whole Santa and reindeer thing as well, but the highlight for me was Midnight Mass. We would spend Christmas Eve at my grandmas with my mom’s brothers and sister and all of our cousins, visiting and opening presents.  Then we would go home for a while and try to rest before we went to Mass.  It was actually at midnight, which I’m not sure if many churches do that anymore.  I just remember the excitement, maybe it was just because I got to stay up late, but as I remember it now, there just seemed to be an aura of peace and joy that night.  I would be wearing a new dress, and most everyone at church would be dressed up too.  I loved walking into the church and seeing all the decorations, the huge brightly lit Christmas Trees, the wreaths draped with red bows, and the large nativity that was empty through the advent season up until this night.  People greeted each other with genuine smiles and well wishes.  Then the choir would sing all those beautiful Christmas carols, and for this one night they would add drums and a trumpet.  Even though it was the same Mass we sat through Sunday after Sunday, this night, it was different. . . special.  At the end of Mass, the choir’s finale was a resounding “Joy to the World,” that you could feel deep in your soul. At its very last note everyone could not help but applaud, which was unheard of back then in a Catholic church. . . but this night was different. . . special.  We would go out into the still night air, and it would be freezing outside, but you felt warm on the inside, and those occasions when snow would be falling, just made it complete.  I knew then that Christmas wasn’t about the fancy decorations, or the presents, or the celebrating with friends and family.  It was about the birth of Jesus and having faith in God no matter what the New Year would bring.

How ever you choose to celebrate this year, it is still the same holiday, and holds all the magic and promise of a brighter tomorrow. This year is definitely different, but each one of us can still make it special.

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas Eve!!