Author: jdavis

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, February 2, 2021

It didn’t take much. In a fraction of a second, everything I thought I knew fogged over with a blanket of betrayal and a loss of confidence in my ability to judge a person’s cover. I struggle with trust issues while praising God for the way things turned out.

I forgot all about this incident until this weekend when I turned on the TV, and there was Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Higher Ground airing. I figured I’d watch for just a little while. This series is my vice. There is no such thing as just a little while. Note to self: don’t even start watching. The character Gabe reminded me of the Jazzman. He used to play his saxophone at the Embarcadero Bart station lobby, where we greeted each other every morning and every afternoon during my commute. I knew him only as Jazzman, a friendly, kind, old black man playing his instrument to earn a living. The thing that impressed me about him was the single fact that he was a busker earning his tips instead of panhandling. 

Seeing this classily clad gentleman in his long black wool coat and classic black hat seated on a plastic milk carton swinging a jazzy piece from his old sax while his instrument case lay opened at his feet was a welcomed sight that everything was all right. It became easy including him in my life, and one year I handed him a Christmas card with a twenty inside. He reciprocated with a Christmas card he wrote, “You are my Carnegie Hall,” but not personalized. He never knew my name.

He was like an old friend or trusted uncle; you count on being there every day. I looked forward to seeing him. When he wasn’t at his post, I worried about him and prayed that he wasn’t sick and nothing terrible happened. Instead, he was doing a gig elsewhere. I had never become attached to a street person in that way before. I genuinely cared for him to the point where I planned on inviting him home for Thanksgiving dinner so that he had someplace to go. I had it all planned out and cleared it with my husband. As with the best-made plans, my plan foiled. Jazzman was nowhere to be found for me to extend my invitation. 

I didn’t know then what I know now. In hindsight, I’m glad my guardian angel was watching over me. I don’t know where Jazzman was when I was looking for him, but it was neither here nor there. He never knew my plans, and that’s good. Soon after my foiled invitation, he didn’t show up at his post for a couple of days. One morning, a small crowd huddled in front of a piece of paper taped to the bulletin board near Jazzman’s post that piqued my curiosity. I joined the group for a look, and my mouth fell open at the words on the notice. I stood immobilized, rereading every word in disbelief—The Jazz Man was arrested for murder! 

After a couple of decades of being on the lam for first-degree murder and fraud, the U.S. Marshalls finally caught up with Jazzman, and he was in their custody. He had been indicted in April 1988, and a bench warrant was issued for his arrest for murdering his ex-wife execution-style. He fled before police could catch him. He survived by hooking up with women with kids, stealing their social security numbers, and using names from men he met along the way. He evaded arrest a couple of times by changing his name and location, always managing to stay a step ahead of the untouchables.

I would never have guessed this sweet old man was capable of any of these crimes against him, but what do I know about this man? An empty chill filled the cavity where my heart used to be. It was like learning your elder relative had been lying to you your whole life, and worse yet, wanted for unthinkable crimes. I couldn’t hate Jazzman, but my heart broke for him. Even so, I wanted to believe that he had turned his life around and trying to live right, but he played his cards with his own rules and now has to pay the price to cover his debt. Although Jazzman was a part of my every day, and my story might have been entirely different. I am grateful for my guardian angel and the hedge of protection around me the whole time I befriended a fugitive.

A Moment in My Life – Monday, February 1, 2021

My list of things that I never thought I would do is trailing beyond the length of my outstretched arms, and I’m not referring to my bucket list. Bucket list? Do I have a bucket list? That’s a story for another time. The list I’m referring to is the short, temporary one that I started at the onset of our new norm. Had I known it would be a long temporary, I wouldn’t have used a scratch paper. I didn’t want to waste a full-size sheet of paper for something that would last a month or two, just like I wouldn’t use a sheet of paper for my grocery shopping list. Had I known what I know now, I would’ve used a notebook.

The latest addition to my list was a drive-by send-off for our church’s music director, who ended his season in the bay area and heading back home to Oklahoma tomorrow. I’ve seen drive-by parties on TV only, and quite honestly, I never thought I’d have a reason to experience that for myself until this Saturday. Not that I was eager to say goodbye, but I was excited to experience a drive-by event. So excited that I was heading out for my drive on Friday when I realized I was a day early. Hey, better a day earlier than late.

It was a gorgeous, dry afternoon, after a week of rain, perfect for socializing outdoors. I arrived at the church parking lot at 3:15, Except for one car ahead of me stopped at the curb by the office entrance, it was hard to tell anything was going on. No banners. No streamers. No balloons. No music. Nothing like I’ve seen on television. Welcome to reality! As I drove up closer, I smiled at Pastor Brian, who was talking to the driver. I drove past them and around the parking lot circle to finish off my 20-minute battery charge. I was short two minutes when I arrived. These days, I need every excuse to get in the 20-minute nonstop drive to exercise my car battery. Upon returning from the circle, I parked a car length behind the car still there, and I waited my turn. 

Five minutes later, the car pulled away. I moved up and took its place. Pastor Brian liked my little Veloster. This is goodbye, and he saw my car for the first time. Thanks, pandemic, for this bonus. It was hard to carry on a conversation knowing that we’re on the time clock. We chatted. I tried to keep it peppy. A couple of cars pulled up behind me, and unlike the previous car, I wasn’t going to keep everybody waiting. I handed him the cookies I baked for him and his family and said, “so long,” knowing that we will stay in touch via social media.

That drive-by was nothing like I saw on TV, but it wasn’t a graduation, a birthday, or an event that you dress up with party flair, but it was my first drive-by event, and now I can add this to my list. On that list, I have FaceTime calls and Zoom meetings. I’ve attended, via Zoom, a funeral, a wedding, church service, and business meetings. I’ve supported local restaurants with their curbside food order pickups. I sampled outdoor dining with my BFF and enjoyed it only to have the shutdown order reinstated. I’ve even done a curbside Friendsgiving turkey dinner pickup. I’ve gone for a hike a couple of times with folks keeping our distance up and masks on. I’ve been on both ends of dropping off treats and receiving treats with meeting friends on our porches with our faces covered. And, to top it off, on two separate occasions, I let masked strange men into my home to service my fridge and garbage disposal. Who would ever have thought that we would let in a man with a mask over his face? I never thought I’d do that in my lifetime. 

I would never have considered doing any of these items. I would never have thought we’d live our lives as if we were seeing people through the television screen, but here we are connecting with everybody through the screen or the masks or visors. I know there are many new norm things that I haven’t experienced. We’re not out of the woods yet, but perhaps I won’t need to experience more facets of this “new norm,” and that’s plenty fine with me. I think I’ve entertained enough to sense living life in the pandemic, virtually speaking.   

A Moment in My Life – Friday, January 29, 2021

A few days after we moved into our house, the black bird family dropped by, making themselves comfortable in our front yard. That was a thing they did. There were three of them. I opened my front window blinds one morning, and there they were. My eyes grew wide as I gasped at the sight of these big black birds just a few feet away from me. I swear they were gigantic! The biggest birds I’ve seen this close. They stood as tall as a proud cat. What prevented me from jumping out of my skin was the reminder that there was a window between us. Yes, fear not. Fear what? Oh right, the unrelenting thought of Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds,” and my imagination took it out on this family of crows. 

Over the years, we managed to coexist. Every time we encountered each other, we did our usual thing—run away. That’s called respecting each other’s space. I don’t approve of everything they do, like when they party too hard and lack the manners to clean up after themselves. I get their disapproval of me when I force an early end to their party. I’ve thought a bad word or two of them as I’m sure they have done the same towards me. When it came down to it, we were cut from the same cloth—cowards. Neither dared to say to the other’s face what we thought.

The pandemic forged an unspoken bond between us. Since I can’t go anywhere, they come around and entertain me every chance they get. We toss each other a head nod keeping to the 6 feet social distancing protocol. They try hard to convince me that they aren’t as bad as I think they are. I smirk at that.

Maybe there is some truth. That’s what happens when you get to know each other better. You start seeing who they are when nobody is around. Then, you know what they are made of. Like the other day, Chad, yeah, I named my buddy, as I was saying the other day, Chad, thought he was all alone. There was a piece of something that looked like wet cardboard on the ground that attracted him. Unlike a seagull who would swoop in before you knew there was something there, Chad hopped, yes, they hop, around securing it while he surveyed his surroundings, making sure nobody was watching. He moved in closer, continuing to hop around the thingy—too polite to dive in. He’s the dinner guest who wouldn’t begin eating until everybody was seated, and he would wait until the host started eating. After a long hop, Chad closed the gap and politely pecked at the thingy while nervously confirming nobody was around. I stood behind the blinds out of sight, not to spook him, I mean, not to disrupt him. After further inspection, Chad went all in and lifted the thingy in flight. Earlier, his companion did a similar hopping dance around a piece of French bread without spending as much time as Chad had.

Looking back, I realize that I had no reason to fear these birds. They fear me as much as I feared them. They are more like us than I knew. We’ve act coyly in similar situations. They have needs and desires just like we do, and they get intimidated along with the rest of us. I laugh now when I remember the panic that I felt the first time I saw them outside my window. Now, I see them as another creature that God has made. We’re not that different. The only difference between us is that we were made human, and they were made the black birds.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, January 28, 2021

“Have you ever seen the rain comin’ down on a sunny day?” I grew up dancing to this great song like everybody else. It’s been a cold and stormy week. Playing this song feels right—comforting. Did you know many artists have sung this song with their twist added for effect? I never realized the plethora of renditions until I searched for this song on Amazon Music, and it played one version after another for hours. It’s incredible that the same tune, same lyrics could invoke a different emotional response with the teeniest variation. In the end, all versions were enjoyable. My favorite is still Creedence Clearwater’s version that excites a smile on my face and fires up my rhythm to a groovin’. This song has always been nothing but fun and peppy until I heard Bonnie Tyler’s edgy and powerful rendition that tugged at my heartstrings in a way that I never expected.

“Have you ever seen the rain comin’ down on a sunny day?” Have you ever listened to the words? I sang along but not until Bonnie struck a core; did I “hear” the words. Goosebumps tingled while a heat blazed within as the unacquitted emotions ignited new life to this song. A song that squeezes my heart when a friend announces she now has more in common with me due to her husband losing his fight with Covid-19. She gets the roller-coaster emotions that widows go through now. Only until she experienced it herself did she get it. Same for me. I empathized but couldn’t wholeheartedly sympathize with other widows until I experienced what they went through. 

At the time of my late husband, Mark’s demise, more people than I could count offered to be there for me, which was kind, but mostly, those were simply words of consolation. As time passed, it was life as usual for them. It wasn’t that they cared any more or less for me. It was what it was. Bonnie’s powerful voice delivered the lyrics forcing me to “hear” each word, and it finally made sense. We live by experience. With each experience, we understand the good and bad, ups and downs, sadness and happiness. We know what others are going through, having been there ourselves. It’s a blessing that none of these people have gone through the loss a widow experienced. Yet, as consoling as they would like to be, they are not equipped to do so without the experience, which I don’t wish upon any of them. This goes for other life situations as well. We can’t fully comprehend a loss of a child, parent, or any other loved one since each relationship is unique. There is no one size fits all for these situations or any circumstances that life tosses us. 

“Have you ever seen the rain comin’ down on a sunny day?” You won’t get it until you have. Yes, I have seen the rain comin’ down on a sunny day. When that happens, you can see the smile on my face and follow the glisten in my eyes to the rainbow in the sky that reminds us of God’s promise never to flood the earth again. It reminds me that regardless of what life throws at us, we will go through the trials for a while, and in time, we will be okay. God sent people to be with us so that we won’t be alone. No experience necessary. The only thing that anybody could offer, sincerely, is their friendship, love, and perhaps a hug, along with their companionship. We may not know the words to say. That’s okay. The important thing is to be a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on, or even just a breathing body to fill the room with warmth. People are our rainbow, and once again, I’m dancing to the song, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain.”

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, January 27, 2021

It’s not something you see every day, so it made me do a doubletake. I see walkers on the sidewalk along Orange Memorial Park regularly, but the walkers look, with some variations, all the same. This one particular walker was far from the same. Something about him lured me up to the windowsill of my stairwell landing on tippy toes to get a better view. It took me a second to assess what was curious about this walker, and there it was—the long red tip stick in front of this middle-aged man, walking alone. I stood taller on my tippy-toes, bringing my face closer to the window to peer down the street, both ways—nobody else in sight. What the heck was a vision-impaired man doing walking outside by himself? With a hand shielding the sun’s glare, I watched this man—intrigued—with every step and every tap of his cane on the concrete beneath his feet. 

If not for the red-tip cane, I wouldn’t have suspected his challenge. At a glance, he had a normal gait. In my fixation, I observed the man taking slow, heavy, yet precise steps, carefully planting his footing on the ground while maintaining his dignity. His head moved with each step as he has some vision through his gold-rimmed glasses. I stretched as much as possible to catch the last glimpse of this man that awed me with his independence.  

The memory of this stranger imprinted itself on my mind with more and more fascination and curiosity. Who was he? Where did he come from? Does he live nearby? Why was he out alone? Does he have someone in his life? Was he walking alone by choice or necessity? I probably would never see him again. I can only imagine the answers to my questions. I guess he has loved ones, but he is a proud man who appreciates his independence and doesn’t want to bother anyone. If not that, I imagine him stepping out of his comfort zone to tackle his fears, starting with overcoming this challenge’s limitations.

Regardless of this man’s story, he got me thinking about myself and other people without handicaps. Too often, it doesn’t take much to prevent me from going outside walking alone. I used to wait for my late husband, Mark, to come home from work to go walking together because I didn’t want to go alone. Other times, I was the queen of excuses. It’s too late, too cold, too windy, too hot, or I’m too tired. The list goes on and on. I’m sure this man would welcome any or all of my excuses over his challenge. 

I know many people who rely on family members or friends to take them places or help them do things, and I understand that it’s okay to ask for help. That’s a lesson that I’m still acclimating to, but I am referring to other tasks that folks can do for themselves but don’t. Most of the time, it’s for spurious excuses like I had about walking. The old saying, “You don’t use it, you lose it,” is profoundly true. The longer we dodge something, the harder it will be. I’ve learned being self-sufficient is preferable to relying on others. If say, I can achieve the task myself, but someone offers a helping hand out of kindness, then that is a blessing. Otherwise, it’s imperative to our independence to step out of our comfort zone to do some things ourselves. Even without a challenge hindering me, I look into the future and fear losing my ability to do something. This fear keeps me trying because practice makes perfect for maintaining my independence, just like the man with the red tip cane.

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, January 26, 2021

I’ve seen a slogan with some version of “if you could see it, you can be it,” with many people fully immersed in this belief. It falls along the lines with the old saying that a business we knew used to encourage their salespeople with, and that was to “fake it until you make it.” Some folks go with “I think I am; therefore, I am.” What about you? Do you have an adage you live by? I’m on the fence. Maybe, that’s my problem. It doesn’t work for me because I’m on the fence. I would love for it to work, though. If it works for some, then I would imagine that it could work for the rest of us. 

This is the same as a vision board, which I’ve seen creativity showcased at its best on some boards. I made a vision board once, in 2018, when I began using a Christian Planner. I went all out with the whole shebang—with colorful quote stickers and inspirational pictures of where and who I wanted to be in one year, five years, and beyond. I was quite pleased with the stellar results. If only it paid off. That year, nothing I envisioned on paper happened. The reality I lived in was unimaginable. I could not have planned a smidgen of what was to come. It was a year spent watching my strong, virile husband shrivel and deteriorate to skin and bones as he suffered painfully to his last breath. Now, I understand why God moved us to a house near a hospital, which became our second home. We were in and out of the hospital—if not for his cocktails—transfusions, and chemo, or his regular ER visits or surgeries, then it was his hospital stays. It became his home away from home on his way to heaven. By the end of that year, I couldn’t bear to look at my vision board. 

It’s the beginning of 2021, and I can finally flip open the page to my 2018 vision board. I can’t read through it yet, but it’s a start. Every day is a new beginning, and I am trying to keep positive, keep moving forward, looking ahead, and expecting good times. I’m not quite ready to do another vision board, but I’m all for trying the envisioning method.

Here goes, I see myself with my City Girl tote bag, filled with my writer’s gear, resting on my shoulder as I stroll into my favorite Starbucks where I order a Mocha Malt Frap and set up my MacBook at a corner table. This is home for the next few hours as I drift and meander within my fictional world. It’s been way too long since I last rooted myself at a coffee shop to write. Being a survivor, I’ve managed to beat most people at being obedient to the Stay-at-Home order, but lately, I am fidgety and eager to get back out there. No, I won’t, though. I have way too much common sense to do anything I shouldn’t do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t want it.

I see myself seated at a table with stacks of my newest book in Barnes and Noble, where a line of fans with my book in hand patiently inches closer to getting my autograph. I see myself jumping for joy as I read the credits “based upon a novel by Jeannie Yee Davis” that appear on the TV screen for a new Hallmark movie. 

I think that’s enough for starters, don’t you? Now, that I did it. We wait. We shall see how well this envisioning method works. I, for one, am rooting for success. I got a lot riding on this. I want to be living proof that if I can see it, I can be it.

A Moment in My Life – Monday, January 25, 2021

Do you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up happy and eager to start your day? You’re on top of the world. You feel invincible. You jot down a long exhaustive list of things you know you could accomplish before bedtime. Then, your morning begins—only to get derailed from the get-go. That’s how yesterday started. I sat down at my MacBook and began writing my Morning Pages when my friend Carol texted asking if I was attending the family forum after the Zoom church service. What family forum? It was announced in the weekly church email that I hadn’t looked at yet. “Avoidance is never a good plan.” “Yes, officer, I realize that now” goes the dialogue in my head. Yeah, sure, I’ll attend the family forum. What choice do I have? If I don’t attend, I don’t know why they called the meeting. Attending the meeting means I may not complete all the tasks on my list. What can I do? Nothing except flow with it. After all, how long could the meeting possibly run?

At the start of the meeting, the moderator announced that it wouldn’t run longer than an hour. Okay, cool, I can sit through an hour on Zoom. A family forum is like coming to the dinner table with questions and concerns, and everything goes. It was a quiet table until fifty-five minutes to the hour when the first real comment hit the table, and the can of worms wiggled onto the table, running over the allotted time. The moderator force ended the meeting at 1:40. I was grateful. We were all starving. 

I threw together a quick rotisserie chicken and kale sandwich, and the phone ran as I bit greedily into my sandwich. It was my sister-in-law who never calls me. Two days ago, she texted saying she’ll call me tomorrow. That was the day before. She didn’t call. I figured she forgot, or most likely, changed her mind. At that moment, my sandwich was the love of my life—nobody got between us. I returned her call afterward, and she had my undivided attention for the next hour. 

Next up, I needed to get my hour walk in before it got too dark. By the time I finished, it was already 4:30 p.m., and I hadn’t touched a single task off my list yet. I wanted to call it a day. After all, there wasn’t much time left. What was the point in beginning anything? The little guys sitting on my shoulders argued the case sending me down the yay and the nay paths. I glanced at the clock and decided to start something and see how much I get done before the timer goes off to make my daily call to my father-in-law at 5:10. I began with soaking the three toilets before I started vacuuming the upstairs. After vacuuming, I cleaned the toilets. I still had time, so I dusted the master bedroom. I even spot treated some stains I saw on the carpet. All before the timer went off. After I chatted with Dad for ten minutes, I decided to continue working until dinner, and I edited a letter. After dinner, I got in a mani before my niece called at 8 p.m. My nails dried and hardened while we talked for 1.5 hours.

It was an extremely satisfying day. I turned in for the night with a big smile on my face and a song in my heart. Had I caved to ‘what’s the point in starting’ like the old me would have done, I would’ve turned in with regret and kicking myself. Instead, I chose my late husband, Mark’s way of working on tasks a little at a time and got it all done. It was a great feeling honoring his memory by doing it his way, and it proved to me that it really works!

A Moment in My Life – Friday, January 22, 2021

“About time.” That’s all I can say once I finally got off the dime to take action. I know that most people wouldn’t have put up with as much as I did, but my motto has always been I won’t replace it unless I have to. That especially goes for my iPhone 6, which I’ve owned for just over five years. I would never have spent the kind of money that I did on this baby. Since I did, I’m not replacing her! I don’t have a contract with some phone vendor to earn me a free phone with their hefty monthly service fees. I paid for my iPhone outright, which means I won’t follow everybody else when they graduate to the next incremental upgrade. 

I remember probably two years into my ownership, and the battery began slipping. During my third year, my cousin, Lena, told me she had her iPhone 6 battery replaced. I attempted to do the same, but my battery was holding >80% charge at that time. To replace the battery, I needed <80%. I wasn’t happy about it, but I made do. What choice did I have?

My battery finally slipped below 80%, but it wasn’t an essential task in the pandemic, so I held off. Somewhere along the way, it dropped down to 72%, where it no longer held a charge longer than half an hour. My phone spent most of the time plugged in charging, escalating this into high priority. 

On Sunday afternoon, I drove to Best Buy in Colma and got into the not-too-long line to enter. Ten minutes later, I stood in the customer service line behind one customer at the window and another in line. Ten minutes later, a rep opened a new window and advanced the line. Five long minutes later, with no movement ahead, the rep stocking beverages next to where I stood in line stopped what he was doing, stood up, turned to me for some reason, and asked, “Can I help you with something?” I told him I needed a phone battery replacement, and he said, “Oh, you need Geek Squad,” and pointed to the department next door. 

I thanked him and joyfully moved over to the Geek Squad Department. I repeated what I needed to the rep standing up. She asked if I had an appointment. I said, “No, I don’t. Do I need one?” and she answered yes. I stared at her before glancing at the two reps seated nearby behind the plexiglass doing nothing. I glanced behind me—nobody in line. There hadn’t been any activity in this department the whole time I stood in the customer service line. Whatever. I accepted the first available appointment for Wednesday at 2 pm.

I arrived at Best Buy at 1:57 for my 2 pm appointment on Wednesday. No line anywhere today. As soon as I arrived at Geek Squad, a rep approached me and began filling in my battery replacement paperwork. It took her 25 minutes. She had me pay and sign the paperwork and said my phone should be ready in four hours. Four hours? It takes that long to replace the battery? Good thing I didn’t buy a do-it-yourself-kit now. 

About four hours later, she called my landline with the ready-to-pick-up notice. I raced right over. I had my phone in hand within five minutes of arrival. On my way out the exit, a rep pulled down the gate to the entrance. Good thing I didn’t dawdle. I was lost without my cell all afternoon. The old battery lasted over five years. Hopefully, the new battery will last as long. It’s so cool. It feels like a brand-new phone since mine is now as good as new.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, January 21, 2021

Yesterday was my old friend’s birthday. I’ll call her Gretchen. She always seemed like a Gretchen to me. I seesawed before I caved and sent her a “Happy Birthday” text. After I hit send, I kept checking my messages for signs of where I stand with her. It was good that I did because I noticed my text went to her email address, not her cell number. Why did it go to email? Would she get my text? Did she change her number? Did she block me? Do you get an alert if you were blocked? Once I realized this, I resent the greeting to her cell.

An hour later, I got a response back from her, “Thank you, Jeannie!” Wow! She wrote back! She addressed me by name! She added an exclamation mark! My heart raced, and my body wanted to do a happy dance. I refrained from doing a happy dance. I didn’t know what to make of this. A part of me was dancing while the other part was telling me, “Hold on, don’t get ahead of yourself here.” Those are words of wisdom that I need to adhere to. The last thing I wanted to do was to get myself into hot water again.

Gretchen and I have been friends since junior high, but I knew her since grammar school. We became tight and formed a circle with a few others in high school. We both got along super well. It was rare having someone who was like me. She and I were both an open book. Transparency is good to a degree. I learned in my age of wisdom; there is a time to speak and a time to stay quiet. Looking back, I wish I exercised that in this relationship. 

I thought we would be friends until we were little old women, but that plan ended prematurely. Like in any relationship, we didn’t always see eye-to-eye. Over the years, we fought like an old married couple. I called divorce a few times, but we always made up. We were bound to reach the breaking point one day, which happened a week after my last heart attack. She had enough and dumped me. For most people, any tiffs would have been forgiven after a life-or-death incident, but not with Gretchen. 

It hurt—both the rejection and loss of a long-time friend. I have to admit that I was contemplating dumping her, but she beat me to it. It was bittersweet. I didn’t want to break up, but we were toxic for each other. I wanted us to agree to disagree, but she wasn’t in a place ready to do so. I prayed that she would come around, but we needed a lot of space between us in the meantime.

As necessary as this breakup was, I am hopeful that one day we can reunite with a fresh start and become friends again. Fast forward a few months, I sent a group text greeting, but Gretchen left the chat. She wasn’t ready. At that point, she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me. I admit not having her in my life has been peaceful. I don’t miss the bickering, but I miss my friend and the good times we shared. I am wiser now and will exercise every opportunity to be a better friend if we get a chance to reunite. 

Deep down, I’m hopeful that she will come around and want to be friends again. That’s why I suddenly caved and sent her the “Happy Birthday” text—hoping maybe just maybe. To my surprise, she responded! What does this mean? I don’t know—only time knows the answer to the question—can we be friends again?

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, January 20, 2021

How long can it last? It could last for as long as it can. Wouldn’t it be nice if something you enjoy could last forever? It sure would be nice, wouldn’t it? Alas, time and time again, I am reminded that nothing lasts forever. There is a time and place for everything. I’ve been a faithful viewer of the daytime talk show, The Talk, for, give or take, about seven years. From Wikipedia: “They discuss the latest headlines, current events, and human-interest stories while engaging in open conversation.” I was drawn to this show because of the dynamics between the cohosts. It had a girlfriend’s coffeetime feel to it, and I was craving that kind of relationship. These ladies spoke their minds with kindness and respect for each other’s views. I respected these ladies because they provided a balance in their responses to each topic. At times, they agreed to disagree in kindness and left me with food for thought. Observing these ladies communicate with each other taught me to be a better girlfriend.

I was never into keeping up with the news, but these ladies kept me entuned with what people were doing and what was going on in the world. The celebrity guests were a bonus, which kept me coming back for more sneak previews and behind-the-scenes scoops from my favorite TV shows and getting to know the celebrity better. They provided spectacular giveaways and neat product promotions at knock-your-socks-off prices. The ladies annually took to a challenge where no one has gone before, like come out in front of the camera with no makeup for that episode’s duration. They challenged themselves against their fears, like Sheryl lying in an enclosed case with snakes for a certain amount of time. They showcased their talents by performing as their favorite singers. I’ve been there with them through their trials and celebrations as they shared their lives openly with us over the years. I cheered them on in their happy moments, rooted them on, supported them, and cried along with them when they were hurting. It felt like I was taking a daily coffee break with my girlfriends. I looked forward to joining my friends every day. I made time for them.

I would always make time for my girlfriends. With that said, there are times when we need to know when to move on. If it is no longer healthy to continue being with someone, then it’s time. Like in any relationship, if it’s no longer the right place to be in, then we need to do something about it. I’m a fixer. I would always strive to fix the relationship to avoid calling it quits. In this case, it is entirely out of my control, and my only recourse is to stay or leave. 

This show has seen many cohosts transition in and out. The dynamics changed. They are no longer following the initial theme. It appears they speak way too freely and openly, which could be a good thing, but in this case, it’s damaging. There is no longer any balancing of views. They don’t seem concerned that they might cause a division among their viewers, and that’s sad. It’s their view or no view. I am not political, and I don’t care for hurting feelings just to be doing it, either. They need to exercise wisdom in knowing when to say or not say something. I see the direction they are going, and that makes me sad. I tried to look beyond the political attacks, but it kept coming. I honestly believe they could share their views without bashing. Once aggression became the theme, I realized that I couldn’t stay any longer. Staying meant I permit them to be hurtful, disrespectful, and inconsiderate towards people who don’t share their views. I hope one day they will gain wisdom to realize this and do damage control before it’s too late, but for me, I had enough with The Talk.