Posted in A Moment in My Life

“When You Get Married, You’ll Know”

Posted on by jdavis

A Moment in My Life – January 23, 2025

Jeannie Yee Davis

Everybody has a story. It would be foolish to assume that every story is alike. On that note, that’s what makes it interesting to hear someone else’s narrative. From the stories, we get a peek behind closed doors. Are you curious, too, or is it just nosy me? 

Yes, it’s true. I am nosy. Well, I prefer to think of it as I’m a curious person. Don’t lie. I’m sure you are, too. There is no shame. It’s a way to learn and to explore outside the box. So, it’s better to own it. With that said, I’m owning it. Although curious, I respect others’ privacy and don’t eavesdrop. However, if it can’t be helped, then I’m not eavesdropping now, am I? 

Here’s what happened. I was at the coffee shop minding my own business writing on MacTosha, my MacBook Air. My head and toro subtly danced to the upbeat, melodic instrumental piping through my ears when these words bumped the invisible record player needle in my head, “Are you married?” It interrupted my music, but I shook it off only to hear the voice roar, “When you get married, you’ll know what I mean.” And then, her story drowned out my song. I glanced in the direction of the voice to a pretty middle-aged brunette cupping her hands around a cappuccino, eyes burning into the speechless young lady seated across the small round table. I missed her response, but I gathered that the shy girl wasn’t married.

I came in after the picture started and had no clue how this topic began, but the more I heard, the sadder I got, learning that her married life was not blissful. She warned the single girl that she would lose her independence and identity and give up her career, dreams, and freedom to become a wife. She will become who her husband expects her to be. Her husband even decides how she dresses. Wow. Do I want to hear any more? I was shocked that this happened here and now. I waited for some redeeming words that some good came from her marriage, which I am sure were happy moments, but she did not reveal any. 

Since the lady was loud and long-winded, I didn’t want to hear more. I had seen enough of her life and didn’t want to be dejected, so I packed up and left, but I couldn’t shake her words out of my mind. 

All the way home, I kept thinking about my married life, which was nothing close to hers. In fact, being married was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wasn’t ready to be single again. For us, it indeed was “until death do us part.” We were married for 34 years, engaged for two and a half, and dated for six months. I grew up with my husband, who supported, encouraged, and nudged me to make my dreams a reality and become not only who I am but also my best self. We lived a full and happy life together. We have never missed a holiday, birthday, or anniversary since we met. We were rarely apart. We never vacationed alone or needed or wanted time away from each other. To me, that was what it meant to be married. Marriage looks different to different people, and I shouldn’t judge.

I actually lucked out. Some find marriage suffocating or restricting, but I found my independence as a wife because my husband allowed me to be me in every sense of the word. He loved me for my good, bad, and ugly. It doesn’t get better than that. One day, if I’m lucky enough to find another him, I’d marry him in a heartbeat. 

Hearing others’ stories filled with anger, resentment, or bitterness towards their spouses breaks my heart. These stories are an eye-opening experience for me and keep me humble and grateful because not everybody is as blessed as I have been in that way. I remembered this when she haunted me with her words, “When You Get Married, You’ll Know.”

Posted in An Itty-Bitty Romance

A Kiss on Top of My Head

Posted on by jdavis

by Jeannie Yee Davis

I pushed open the Grand Diner’s door to a mellifluous voice singing an oldie I recognized but hadn’t heard quite like this before. “Rosemary, you made it.” My aunt hailed across the chattering diners, redirecting my focus. She lifted the counter gate and entered the dining room with arms waiting for me.

“Aunt Lindsey, I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy.” We hugged. She pointed to the counter seat. I sat down, recounting my four-hour drive from college that had taken six hours. As I spoke, my eyes kept drifting back to the singer. “Aunt Lindsey, who’s that singing?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. I couldn’t help but feel anticipation as I watched him, wondering about his story and connection with my family. I glanced towards the corner stage where a lean brunette man in a black tee and jeans stood strumming his guitar and singing a sultry rendition of “I’ll Never Dance Again,” where the diners dressed in the fifties felt like I did from their bobbing along. 

“That’s Herman, Uncle Joey’s protégé,” she waved at Herman, who just happened to look her way. He nodded and smiled as he sang. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy as I watched him, knowing his hardships. Their bond was palpable, and it stirred something profound within me. 

“That’s Herman? Uncle Joey said his mother died in a car crash during his senior year in high school. He was in a group home and ran with the wrong crowd.”

“And Joey, that brother of mine, fostered Herman during the last six months of school. And the rest is history.”

I stood up and leaned on the counter, observing this stranger, a moment ago, a family friend now, crooning me in song when the song ended. Herman rested his guitar on the stand and strolled towards me. I stiffened, feeling my heart racing. He’s coming my way. Act natural. It’s easy for me to tell myself when my body has other ideas. 

“Hi,” Herman smiled at me, tapping on the counter. He waved at the waiter I hadn’t met, “Art, can I have a water, please?” He smiled at me nervously.

I broke the awkwardness. “You sing beautifully. That’s one of my favorite songs. The way you sang gave me goosebumps. Your cover is my favorite now.”

“Thank you so much. That’s very kind of you to say that.” Herman stepped closer, hugged me, and planted a kiss on the top of my head. 

Whoa, what just happened? My legs wiggled. Did he kiss me? I wasn’t sure how to feel, but it made me smile.

I stared at the man towering over my petite frame. He gulped his water, eyeing me. “I’m Herman, by the way.”

“Nice to finally meet you. I’m Rosemary.”

He raised his arm and pointed at me. “You’re Joey’s niece. I’ve heard a lot about you. Are you home for the summer?”

“Yes. You playing this summer?”

“Yes, and the fall and the winter, too. It’s a gig Joey and I started before he got shot.”

“Kind of you to continue after he passed. I hear you quit the police force.”

“He was my partner. I didn’t see a life there anymore. Joey taught me to play the guitar. We formed a band and had been performing outside of work.”

Uncle Joey taught me, too, but I stopped playing when college, my part-time job, and homework became priorities. Those were the best times playing guitar with Uncle Joey. I smiled, reminiscing about our late nights lost in our music.

Herman invited me the next day to play guitar together at the park. Once I started playing, my passion returned. “I forgot how much I loved playing. Uncle Joey and I played into the night on the weekends.”

“Yeah, we jammed, too.”

“I see why you turned to music. I can play forever.”

“Your uncle was my mentor. Without him, being a cop doesn’t feel right anymore, but music does. Music was his other woman. It feels right to do it for him.”

“I feel the same way. I no longer see myself going to the police academy.”

“You’ve got talent. Why don’t you join me? We’ll form a band. Another year of college, right? We can play during your breaks. I’ll write songs and get gigs while you’re in school. We can get to know each other better.” Suddenly, my lost direction became a clear path that lightened my soul and filled my insides with butterflies. 

I leaned forward, kissed his cheek, and glimpsed his woody masculine scent, mesmerizing eyes, and dimpled smile. I tingled within. He strummed his guitar and sang, “We belong to each other. You and me, we belong to each other.” He then planted a kiss on top of my head.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“When There’s Today”

Posted on by jdavis

A Moment in My Life – May 23, 2024

Jeannie Yee Davis

Do you ever get those days where you wake up with a thought, but before you can act on it, poof, dust in the wind, gone? That’s me today. They were emotional thoughts that made me want to write a column about it, but what was it? Isn’t that annoying? I’m mulling around here, hoping those thoughts will resurface. Let’s go for this ride and see where it takes me, shall we?

So, yesterday, I met this guy through LinkedIn. He sent me a connection request. LinkedIn is the only place I accept all connection requests because it’s a business networking platform, which means it should be safe and free of social media trolls. Now, I stand corrected. The trolls are everywhere. It takes only one troll to ruin everything and destroy my trust in that platform. Usually, I accept a connection, and that’s that. They become a number in the numbers game, and I never hear from them again. To my surprise, this new connection immediately messaged me. That should’ve been a red flag right there. I almost ignored him, but I was curious, so I responded. As I pondered whether to answer, I wondered why he reached out. It had to be a job opportunity, but based on his job title, Regional Director of Jewelry@Bulgari, what would he want with me.? I was never in the jewelry business. Although, the first question he asked was if I were still at Schwab. So far, it sounds legit, right? 

We ended up having an excellent dialogue until he asked for my phone number so we could talk more. What? Why? I never understood why a troll would insist on moving to another platform “so we could talk more.” We’re talking just fine right where we are in LinkedIn messaging. He shot up a red flag right at that moment. Scammers always want me to go to another platform “to talk more” or want my phone number. I just thought of something. Wouldn’t it be funny if I gave them my landline number? They wouldn’t know right away. They didn’t ask for a “cell” number per se—it was implied. 

I declined to give him my phone number, explaining that I used to hand out my personal contact info to strangers I met on the street until I met my stalker. It takes only one person to ruin everything, and after that, I am selective with whom gets my contact info. He did not push like the previous trolls I met on FB. I am unfamiliar with LinkedIn as I am not actively on that platform, so I wondered if his request was valid. Maybe I was wishful that he wasn’t a troll? So, I asked if he had a FB account instead. He said to give him my username, and he will find me. That didn’t sound so bad. I gave him my FB username link, meaning he had to only click on it. Viola, and there I am, and he could send me a friend request. It took him about an hour to send the request. That alone was suspicious.  

The plot thickened when I accepted his friend request and saw that he had created a brand-new FB account to send me a friend request. All the alarms in my head blared. I immediately messaged him, “You opened a new account just for me?” He quickly explained that the same people were on FB and LinkedIn, so he had previously deleted his account. Wow! Really? I can’t say that comforted me. I paused everything. He continued to message me, calling me on it, saying that I found it strange that he created a new account and noted that I was uncomfortable with it, so I avoided him. I laughed, people, because the more he spoke, the more the smooth-talking, engaging man I met became just another troll that I used to turn in to the FB police. When I did not respond to him, he suggested that we call and talk. I concluded with, “No, thank you. You’ll have to meet your quota with someone else.” He sank deeper when he knew what I meant precisely by my comment and gave me an earful about how if I thought he was one of them, I did not know him, and so on. 

It was time for me to get off the bus. I unfriended him from FB and deleted his LinkedIn connection. I have never stayed in the troll’s game long enough to figure out their end game, but I understood why they wanted our phone number. Our cell phone is the easiest way to assume our identity, intercept security protocols sent to our phones, and gain access to our financial and social media accounts. (According to FCC.gov.)

They often invite me to “talk more” with them on WhatsApp, and now I know why. Once you’re “inside an app like WhatsApp, correspondence can feel more familiar than on email or even text message – scammers take advantage of this. Broadly, scammers usually want to do one of three things: Steal your money or cryptocurrency. Obtain your personally identifiable information.” (According to tech.co.)

It’s annoying and disappointing when someone tries to scam you, but sometimes they keep you on your toes, reminding you never to drop your guard. Trolls are everywhere, especially when you least expect them. It’s sad that we can’t trust people the way we would like, but don’t give up hope that there is good in people. But exercise discernment when things seem too good to be true or suspicious, listen to your instinct, pause, and not get suckered, especially when there’s today.

Posted in Truths Revealed

Who I Am

Posted on by jdavis

By Jeannie Yee Davis

Truths Revealed – April 2, 2024

The human in me has a hard time loving me, who I am, the way I am. I’m more flawed than I care to admit and so far away from not only perfect but from the image of who I want to be, who I think I should be, and, more so, who I see myself as. Today’s devotional reading reminded me that I must first love myself before I can love someone else. Knowing this truth for quite a while doesn’t make it easier—just another reminder of my imperfections.

None of us talk about it, but we would learn that we are all the same if we did. We’re all imperfect, with flaws and bents, and we struggle with loving ourselves to some degree. Am I right? I don’t know. I only know this is my truth. 

I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a nobody. For starters, growing up a year behind a beautiful sister who was the flame of every fire, a star in everyone’s eyes, the smartest, most entertaining, outgoing, eloquent, and most loved, it was easy to fade into the shadows of self-worth. When you do something long enough, like they say about forming habits, if you do something for 21 days or longer, it becomes a habit, so how you live your life becomes a habit, good or bad. In time, you lose not only who you are but also your voice when you live in the shadows of someone else’s life instead of being your authentic self.

In all my growing-up years, I didn’t know any of this. All I knew was I wasn’t happy. I didn’t feel I belonged anywhere. Yet, these resounding questions echoed, “Why am I here?” “What’s the point in living?” “Will I ever measure up?” “Where is home? Being a nobody felt senseless, hopeless, and a waste of air. Yet, my curiosity kept me searching for answers.

Growing up and becoming a grownup failed to give me satisfying answers, as I relied on people as mentors, which we all need, but I’ve learned we need discernment on whom to depend. As part of the human race, we are human by default, which means we have beliefs, opinions, views, and bents that may mean well but may not be appropriate for us. Even parents may have favoritism, whether they are aware of it or not, which may scar their children for life. There is no blaming here. Everybody does the best that they possibly can with what they derive from; thus, we’re all the same.

Not until I became a child of God, and many years after, did I learn who I am and belong to, and my eyes opened. My heart filled with joy as God wrapped His loving arms around me and told me I am loved and His. Suddenly, I was home. No longer alone. I belonged to God, who created me in His image for a purpose. Yes, I am here for a reason. I am thrilled that my curiosity kept me searching for answers, and now I get to see how the story unfolds. 

Before I can love others, I need to know my self-worth through His everlasting love for creating us just as we are. We see ourselves imperfect and flawed, but He made no mistakes when He created us. We are His masterpieces! He loves us just as we are, so who are we to question that? Knowing our worth impacts everything we do and every being we touch. 

He created us for a purpose, which He reveals to us at the right time. We have a job to do, and that’s exuberant for someone who used to ask, “Why am I here?” “What’s the point in living?” “Will I ever measure up?” Everyone needs a purpose to make it through the day. I’m thankful that even though it took decades, I eventually discovered my purpose, and this chorus feels so spot on right now.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives.

Why am I here? What’s the point? Whether I measure up or not no longer applies. God, as my heavenly Father, has me covered. Unlike human parents, He is unmovable. He will never forsake me and will be there for the good and bad times. He loves me unconditionally, and He does everything for my good. He only asks that I know who I belong to and choose Him first every day. I have all I need to love me because I am worthy, and I can love everybody else because now I know who I am.

Footnote: (Because He Lives – Song by Bill & Gloria Gaither)

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“You Never Know”

Posted on by jdavis

A Moment in My Life – February 8, 2024

Jeannie Yee Davis

I exited 2023 and entered 2024, jumping for joy. Excited, enraptured with all the possibilities of 2024. Happy. No, not happy, but ecstatic. I had the best New Year’s Day ever. How could anything bad happen after that grand entrance? You never know. Anything can and will happen. You simply never know. That’s the plain truth.

Shortly into the new year, something didn’t feel right inside me. Something else didn’t feel right before I got to the bottom of that first ailment. And so it began, my trek down the path of fears and scares of possibilities, which I chose the path of denial. Not wise, but a human trait. Anyway, this is not about that. That will be a story for another day. I will say that eventually, I dealt with reality and am on the mend.

During my trials, a couple of friends passed away. The first friend, Mike, had battled with cancer for several years. It was still sad losing him, but it was inevitable that one day, he would be freed of his suffering. Soon after, I learned another friend, Don, lost his fight with pancreatic cancer. However, the most recent loss was unexpected. Margarita was fine just days before when I saw her last. She had a stroke while attending her granddaughter’s school event, and nothing could save her. Just weeks earlier, she lost her son suddenly. So painfully sad for her family. When I heard this shocking news, I was still in the middle of my challenges, fearing that maybe my time was near, so learning about Margarita’s passing hit too close to home. You never know when your time is up. Her passing spurred me to write this column.

Loss has a way of spiraling you into deep contemplation. Nothing is infinite. We are finite. As Franklin said, “Nothing is certain except death and taxes,” and other versions of this saying, like “The only thing you have to do is pay taxes and death, and anything else you think you have to do, you made up,” which is a nice segway that sums everything up here. 

We don’t know when it will be our time to line up at the gates of heaven. We don’t know if we get to do it all again tomorrow. Every morning, I say, “Thank You, Lord, for this new day,” because I get to wake up again. My dear friends Betty and Lenore and my cousin Tina went to bed one night and did not wake up the next day. Each day truly is a gift from God. I don’t take it lightly. For the longest time, I was afraid of death. I was so not ready and feared dying before I was ready, but when will I be ready? Especially being human, I tend to procrastinate doing things. I am a busy bee and consistently productive, but I do the priority things first, and I confess that I put things off when I don’t have to deal with them right away. I’m working on it, people. I give myself grace because I am human, too. However, regardless of when I get the call, I will never be ready at this rate. 

Losing someone is like a car battery jumpstart that jolts us out of surviving day-to-day like we’ve all the time in the world. We don’t. Our days are numbered. We aren’t privy to the end date. In a way, it’s good not knowing. Knowing may give us the sense of urgency we need to avoid squandering our time. Maybe? Maybe not. I don’t know. I know that loss makes me reevaluate what I want my life to be about and what legacy I want to leave behind. It makes me ponder whether I am living the way I like to live or not.

Too often, we aren’t living the life we dreamed of, but we wait until tomorrow or another day to do something about it. As we get older, the battery life runs lower. Do you want your battery drained before you fulfill your dream life? 

Living the life we dreamed of with as few regrets as possible is essential. This life is it. One life only. It’s not a dress rehearsal. We all have dreams, but few of us pursue them. We settle into a life for various reasons, and our dreams evaporate with time. The dream life is subjective and personal. The only thing in common is that it takes work and effort to make it possible. I recently read a devotional, “How to Dream Brave with God.” It taught me that our dreams are valid, meaningful, and blessed by God. After all, He gave us everything we need to live our dreams. He wants us to succeed and to dream big. Knowing this allowed me to dream bravely.

When we lose someone, we should try harder to live better because we can. They can’t anymore, but I know they would want us to live fully and boldly and make each day count. 

Sometimes, we get a second chance with nudges that sit us up straighter and make us rethink what we are doing and, if not, on the right path to set us on the right course. Or, in your heart, something isn’t right, and that’s your second chance to make changes and stop making excuses because tomorrow may be too late.

We never think about this until we get that nudge, and that’s when we ask ourselves what legacy we want to leave behind. We don’t want to be remembered as ones whose job was their priority, and we never had time for people. Or that all we did was have fun without considering paving a future for our loved ones or doing anything that mattered. We must have balance to provide for a future, spend time with people, do good work, live a good life, and care for what matters. Spend time at work to build a future and help those in need. Spend time at play for social and wellness. Spend time building relationships with people and God. 

Balance is the teeter to moderation, the totter. You must balance your efforts with things you enjoy each day and the work you must do to make everything possible. Moderation in everything will allow you to appreciate life and do important things: people, projects, social work, earning a living, realizing your dreams, and making time with God. Then, you’ll have few regrets and live a good life.

I don’t take anything for granted, especially as I get older. Nothing is ours forever—our five senses, mobility, faculties, and health we rely on without thought, like breathing, but will we always have them? Will we always have our independence? You never know. People and things come and go without warning. Our lives are like a drawing on a chalkboard, fragile, with one brush stroke, erased, a deleted scene in a movie. You never know. Take nothing for granted. You never know until it’s taken away from you. Then, all you have is regret that you didn’t appreciate what you had while you had it.   

The best caregivers I know are too busy caring for everybody else and seldom themselves. You do nobody any favors by neglecting yourself. You matter, too. Once you care for yourself, you’ll be a super person in caring for everybody else.

For those who are blessed with loved ones, never part with anger, hurtful words, or unresolved issues. Scripture says, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger” because that might be the last words between you, which would be sad. The purpose of this piece is to encourage you to take this opportunity to reevaluate whether you are living a good and balanced life that is filled with love and gives you peace, knowing that when your time is up, you will have very few regrets because this is your one life and not a dress rehearsal. Will you wake up tomorrow and get to do it all again? You never know.

Posted in An Itty-Bitty Romance

Paint Me a Dream

Posted on by jdavis

by Jeannie Yee Davis

He sat there, brush in hand, fast strokes up, down, and across, and a golden sunlit sky appeared across the canvas on a wooden easel. With a few skillful dabs, puffs of clouds soften the sun’s rays, casting a shadow on the deep blue ocean waves the painter laid beneath the sky. With precise, quick strokes, thin fronds came to life, swaying from the canopy of the palm trees, suspending above the glistening sand. And the sounds of the low waves and gentle breeze waft into his ears as his toes hide in the warm sand.

The bespectacled painter grabbed his water bottle from under his stool, breaking the young man’s trance from painting to painter. Their eyes lock, each curious about the other. The artist gulped short sips into his parch mouth. He wiped the drool off his shaggy pewter beard with his hand and nodded, “Son, would you like me to paint you something?”

“Can you paint me a dream?”

“I can paint anything you can dream of,” he said.

“Can you paint a hammock swinging from that palm tree with me lying in it wearing a bird of paradise aloha shirt, Bermuda shorts, straw hat, and shades? Paint a pretty brunette in a cotton dress and put her right in my arms?”  

As quickly as the young man spoke, the scene appeared as he described. The young man stared in awe as the brunette emerged on the canvas wrapped between his arms in a long purple hibiscus cotton Hawaiian ruffled sleeves dress. “How did you know to paint that dress?”

The painter finished the last strokes, put down his brush, and pointed behind the young man to the pretty brunette modeling a long purple hibiscus cotton Hawaiian ruffled sleeves dress. “Son, I said I can paint you anything. I did my part. Now, you do yours.” He nodded to the brunette. 

The young man smiled at the brunette. Thanked the painter, “You are a magician. You sure did paint me a dream.”

Posted in An Itty-Bitty Romance

“I Love You!”

Posted on by jdavis

by Jeannie Yee Davis

If only you looked into my eyes, you would see my heart pumping in vain the words you can’t hear. I love you. I love you. I love you! I long for that day your eyes zoom into my heart. You will find an album of memories; every moment is you and me: sacred memories, dreams, wishes—a novel written for your eyes only. Moments of simple pleasures lovers enjoy—holding hands between fluttering butterflies, dancing on the grass on a warm spring night, sharing melting ice cream on a merry-go-round one hot summer’s day, giggling to teasing kisses and rubbing noses, savoring the sweetness of love, seeing our reflections in each other’s eyes, snuggling before a fire, sipping hot cocoa, and listening to our favorite songs, never wanting the moment to end.

Every morning. Every night. I dream of looking into your heart and seeing my name engraved at the center. Yet, it’s only a dream I’ve dreamed a hundred times. I want my life to be with you, but what can I do when you don’t know what it’s like to love you as I do? Can’t you feel my love reaching like corn stalks in the fields of gold as your hand almost brushed against mine when you passed by? Do you not feel the vibrations of my heart drumming when you are near? We pass each other every day. Do you not see me? How do you not know how much I love you? 

My eyes smile when I see you weaving through the couples on the dance floor coming my way. My hand is ready to join yours and let you twirl me onto the dance floor to a slow song. You get nearer and nearer, and the bass in my heart gets louder and louder, deafening the speakers as you arrive. I pivot, inhale the scent of fresh laundry, and watch you pass by, and I mentally take a picture of this moment for my album.

Loving someone who doesn’t see you is not for the faint-hearted. I’m a woman in love, not unbreakable, not weak, but rich with so much love saved just for you. There’s a way people say, but what can I do when I want you to love me, too? I won’t push. It’s meaningless unless it’s in your heart the love for me. One day, you will look into your heart and find me there. When you do, you will open your eyes, and I will be here with arms wide. Until then, I will wait and be true to you, and one day, I will hear you say the refrain in my heart every day, “I love you!”  

Posted in An Itty-Bitty Romance

This Time Last Year

Posted on by jdavis

by Jeannie Yee Davis

This time last year, his trip home to spend Valentine’s Day with his wife was interrupted by an assignment. The assignment to restore the fine wood tables at the Divine Mansion kept him away longer than he expected. He lies in his bed every night and every morning, picturing her smiling, blowing kisses, and saying, ‘I love you,’ as she drifts farther away. He reaches out to her and is encouraged to keep working. 

He stooped over the oblong table like a pool player, his face mere inches from the surface. His eyes fixated on the spot amid opaque shavings that looked like large dandruff flakes. He worked the pointy tip of the toothpick into the varnish. “You have to be careful not to damage the lacquer finish beneath the varnish. You see, if you damage the table, that would mean overtime. They won’t like it. They will make us repair the damage, you see. Quite frankly, I don’t have the time to do that. You see, I have a deadline I’m trying to meet.” He spoke in almost a hypnotic whisper without looking up. He repositioned his arm, tensing his grip in preparation for the rapid strokes needed to graze the top layer. 

When he worked up momentum, the varnish flicked off the table like pieces of rice paper. “Removing the varnish from these fine tables requires a master’s skill. Not just anybody has the knack for this. We’re lucky, we do.” He chuckled. “The whole table can’t be treated the same way, you see. Believe me, I know. I’ve encountered a dozen different surfaces. The varnish comes right off with just a flick of the toothpick in some areas, but others require more persistence. But don’t worry; you see, I have devised ways to get around them.” He continued talking at the table, inhaling the vapor or varnish. A page from the PA system periodically drowned out his voice. Cellophane crumbs covered the surface of the mahogany table, and snowflake shavings dusted the hardwood floor beneath him. 

He scraped each spot with determination, following it farther and farther across the table in steady momentum. “When the momentum is broken, we refocus and work another area for a while. I like to come back to these tough spots later. You see, I get a lot more done that way. I like to finish parts of the table quickly, but tough spots slow me down. I’ve got to hurry, you see.” Just then, he came upon a stubborn spot that wouldn’t budge. He rubbed at it with his fingernail, and it cleared a path right through. He held a finger up to his sweaty lips, “Shh, and that’s the secret to how you do it.”  

“Be careful now. Can’t push too hard. You see, don’t wanna dent the table and don’t wanna break another toothpick.” He let out a breath that blew the flakes about the table. “Supplies are hard to come by depending on the staff. There seems to be a high turnover around here.”   

The body of the toothpick dug into the flesh of his fingers. It didn’t bother him. He has become numb to the pain. “I have to finish this one last table, and then they’ll let me go.” Sweat soaked through his white tee shirt. But he kept going.

He stopped to change hands when he couldn’t press down anymore. He swung his arm to release the toothpick onto the table, but it didn’t fall out of his grip. The toothpick embedded itself into the flesh of his fingers. He had to yank it loose from his right hand before tossing it onto the table. He rubbed at his calloused fingers and massaged one stiff finger at a time. He stood up straight and became aware of the tension in his back. He arched backward and stretched as he surveyed the table. He groaned. He took a deep breath and sucked in the familiar medicinal musky dampness. He rubbed his eyes to refocus, drying the beads of sweat from his lashes.

“Oh God! I’ve still got half the table to go. I’ll never finish in time. Wrong attitude! No choice. I must finish, and then I can go home to my wife. It seems forever since I’ve spoken to her, but she’ll understand. I’ve been busy. She’ll appreciate that I’ve devoted all my efforts to getting home to her. I know she’ll be surprised.”

He wiped his wet hair and face with his already-dampened arms. He licked his salty lips, changed hands, and returned to scraping the varnish.

“Excuse me. Excuse me,” she tapped him on the shoulder. “Could you tell me where the office is?” 

“Oh, you startled me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“The office is that way.” He pointed down the hall.

“Thanks. What are you working on?”

“I’m refinishing this table. That’s my job.”

“Your job is to refinish this table?”

“Not just this table. All the wood tables here.”

“Really? How many have you already done?”

“I’ve done nine. Once I finish this last table, I get to go home to my wife. Gotta finish this project in the next couple of weeks. I will surprise her when I show up on Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s really sweet. Well then, I’d better let you get back to work.” The young woman walked in the direction he pointed. She padded along so her clogs wouldn’t pound against the wood floor. She reached the office where a heavyset woman wearing a pale blue sweater sat with her back to the door. She knocked even though the door was open. “Excuse me, Mrs. Bennett, is this where I report for duty?”

“You must be Kimberly. Hang your coat over there, and I’ll show you around.” The elderly lady stood up, pointed to the coat rack, and led Kimberly outside the office.

Kimberly heard mumbling coming from the man at the table. She tried but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “Mrs. Bennett, who’s that guy over there?”

“That’s Peter. You give him a box of toothpicks, and he stays out of trouble.”

“He said he was trying to finish that table so he could go home to his wife. That’s so sweet.” Kimberly caught Mrs. Bennett’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Tsk, tsk, he’s not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“His wife was killed this time last year. Her death sent him here to Divine Hope Sanitarium. He’s been doing that since he got here.”  

Posted in Uncategorized

“It Never Ends”

Posted on by jdavis

A Moment in My Life – December 5, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I’ll be happy when I finish this task. When this event is over, I’ll be satisfied. Once I land my dream job, I’ll rest. When I meet my soulmate, then I can be happy. Once I finish this, I can begin living the life I want. So on, and so on. Is this you, too? I’m so guilty of it. Maybe not these particular comments, but I live and breathe looking toward the finish line. Always. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.

 I have a girlfriend who I admire, but as I try to be more like her, I fail every time. I’ll tell you why she amazes me. She said, “Oh, I am having such a wonderful time. I want to savor this moment. I don’t want it to end.” Wow! Her words awed me because I hadn’t known anybody who lived in the moment, but I knew I wanted that. Instead, I’m more prone to “I can’t wait until this is over.” It doesn’t matter if I’m having a blast. I still can’t wait until it’s over. Why am I like this? I often ask myself this question but figured it’s part of my DNA, and I could do nothing about it. It is my constant battle that drove me bonkers. I hated feeling that way but did not know how to remedy the situation except to live with it.

Then, I read a devotional on Psalm 34, which gave me a new perspective to view my situation candidly. A prevailing thought jumped out at me, “it never ends.” It often hit me as a complaint. After I finish this “whatever,” something else will come up and take its place. Something will always pop up, preventing me from reaching “the finish line.” I kept pushing off “living my life” until I got the paperwork done, the stacks of projects that needed my attention, and the tending to the domestic tasks that never ended. Then, it was waiting until after the holidays. Then, there were the family events, church, friends, and so on. It never ends. There will always be something else that I need to handle. So, when do I begin living my life? When will I be happy?

When I read Psalm 34:1, “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips,” it was as if David was talking directly to me. I’ve read this verse before, but it had a new meaning this time. It made perfect sense. This is life. Life is perpetual. It will go on with or without me. It’s a hamster wheel. It’ll spin around and around, and the little guy will jump on and off. Such is life. There will always be something happening. Good. Bad. Ugly. Beautiful. It will keep going. It never ends.

I finally understand my need to reach the finish line. I’m a doer. I get things done. I thrive on completing tasks and doing them well. While in the process, I am stressed out worrying about the outcome. Thus, I can’t wait to get to the end to see how everything plays out. Once I reach the end, I will know if my efforts paid off. It’s a good thing to be a doer, but if my attitude is not grounded, it is a stress-inducing lifestyle. I’m always stressed. 

David in Psalm 34 held the solution I’ve been looking for by showing me how to find peace by praising God for today’s mercies, regardless of what tomorrow brings. That’s it. That’s the long and short of it that I needed to hear. I must praise God in everything I do and every moment I live. Praise Him. Praise Him. Praise Him. That’s it. Instead of waiting until the end to be happy, I must be satisfied regardless of what prevents me from reaching my happy place, which I will never find because there will always be something else that will impede my goal. So, I must be happy as I go. Now that I understand this, a change of attitude is the golden ticket to life, where everything keeps coming at you, whether you are ready or not. It never ends.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Never Say Never”

Posted on by jdavis

A Moment in My Life – November 27, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how life works. It’s a good thing that’s not my job responsibility. If it were, I would excel at goofing it up every time. What am I talking about? Good question. I’m meeting up with a few of my high school girlfriends soon, which got me reminiscing about the conversations we had back then. One in particular weighs heavily on my mind: the one about dating and marriage. 

This is where life comes in and finds me rolling on the floor, laughing my head off. Okay, maybe it’s not that funny, but however you look at it, it’s laughable, and I’ll tell you why. In school, one girlfriend shocked me when she said she wasn’t interested in dating and did not believe in marriage. Whoa! Knock me down and keep going because I needed time to mull it over. How do you expect a girl who always had a crush on some guy and her interpretation of life was having someone special to spend it with to understand that concept? Thus, it blew me away. 

Yet, she prepared me for real life. I’ve met many people over my adult years who I never saw go on a date, let alone get married, which no longer shocked me. One of these people was another high school girlfriend who never dated or married. I never understood why but never asked. Hey, we have to exercise boundaries. If they want to share, they will. Otherwise, it’s none of my business.

Just when I accepted this concept, boom, my aromantic girlfriend moved in with a guy in college. Fast forward a few decades, and she surprised me again when she announced they eloped! What! This was the girl disinterested in relationships? What a trip she set my mind on! Hallelujah! That was great news for a romantic to hear. I was truly happy for her.

I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry because life has a sense of humor. Who would have thought that at seventeen, she would choose singlehood, and I would choose marriage; however, fast forward to the current day, she’d be married, and I would be single. Who wrote those cards? I’m laughing because it’s funny when you realize nothing is set in stone, so it’s better never to say never.