Never Say Never

Do not...I repeat...do not say no one can fix it to my husband. Over the years I have come to dread when someone tells him that they brought it to the professionals and they said that it couldn't be done.

Those words seem to trigger something deep inside of Bob. I guess it is a challenge of sorts to someone who has a keen, inquisitive mind, especially regarding all things mechanical.

Three examples come to mind:

We had a favorite restaurant in Minneapolis. If it was filled we might be seated in a section that had the air conditioning ducts blowing on us. The cold air could dampen an otherwise delicious meal. I complained to the waiter and his response was, We have had many complaints. We had the pros check it and they cannot adjust it. Those words were a dare to my challenged spouse and the next day, when the restaurant was closed, was all the time he needed to fix the problem. The manager was so grateful that he did not need to lose customers to that section that Bob and I had free meals for a year. That was a win-win.

A few years later we were visiting my Aunt Marie in Indiana. Her home was filled with interesting clocks that her son had sent her from Germany during his years stationed there. One especially unique one, called the Flying Pendulum, was not working. I brought it to several clock experts and none could repair it, my aunt complained. While she and I spent a pleasant afternoon reminiscing and looking through family photos, Bob worked patiently and persistently on the clock. By dinner time it was ticking along with the dozen other clocks. My aunt was so pleased that she promised the clock to Bob after she died. Within a few months other relatives admired that very special clock, unnoticed when it was still, and it was gifted to them.. That was not a win-win, but Bob was pleased that he could meet that challenge and that was what mattered to him.

A few days ago Bob showed me a cell phone that he had rescued from a soggy gutter on main street in Hot Springs. He knows next to nothing about cell phones but he brought it home, cleaned out the water and the mud and in two days he had it working so that I could text someone on the list to get a number for the owner. I would have dumped it, but Bob knew that someone out there would be upset by losing everything on the phone, plus, it had 300 some days left on it.

This is one of the many reasons I chose to spend my life with this thoughtful, caring person. He is never too busy to help someone in need of assistance, and quietly gives of his time and curiosity to make this world a little better place and, in doing so, makes my place in this life richer by knowing him.

Little Sir Echo

There is something to be said for solitude and contemplation. There is also a great deal to be said for group camaraderie and support. When I sit on the bench along our Freedom Trail and listen to the water rushing over the rocks, the birds singing in the trees, I close my eyes and feel my surroundings and, eventually, my heart and soul. For me, nature and solitude are my simplest connection to peace and resolution.

I also find another type of reflection when I work out by myself in the pool. I do my aerobics, often to songs. The time slips by effortlessly as I sing my body into action. I do notice the absence of the group when I cannot manage to join them. During my alone times I may experience more serenity and speculations, but there is the missing piece....when I sing "Little Sir Echo" there is no response from my classmates. I answer myself...."hello, hello," but it isn't the same as an energetic group of exercisers responding "hello, hello."

I guess what I realize is that solitary time needs to be complemented by social time. Otherwise there is no one to answer an echo in our lives.

At Last!

After a year of doing interviews of veterans who use the Hot Springs VA, and six more months of editing, proofing and publishing, the book about the battle of the veterans and the community of Hot Springs to save our VA will be arriving in town. I will be selling copies at the Traveling Wall coming to town during July 31 through August 4, and copies will be available on line at Amazon and at the local book store in town, Black Hills Books and Treasures.

It will also be available in time on other Internet forms, but for now, the feel of the book in my hands is all that matters to me. I love book-in-hand and am reluctant to include the speedier, more accessible means of accessing these stories.

And these stories!!! What can I say? Veterans from all conflicts and branches of service have offered their testimonials, at times a most painful experience, in order to try in some manner to influence the powers that be to save and grow this VA facility that has become a special healing part of their lives.

The stories are compelling, honest, raw and eye-opening! I have been honored to be included in some small way in the lives of these veterans who have served our country in peacetime and war, through soggy jungles, freezing waters, dusty deserts or dangerous front lines. Some guarded, some patrolled, some set up communication or worked behind the lines. What all had in common was obedience to a higher authority, a loss of ultimate decision making in where they served or what they did. For a period of their lives they gave up personal gains in service to their country.

Now these same veterans are asking for all the benefits that they were once promised for their years of service. They also want this VA to remain where it is and where it has been healing veterans for over one hundred years.

What I did was to listen and write their testimonials. What you can do is to listen to their stories, walk for a brief time in their shoes, honor their wishes and thank them for their service.

Recalling Pollyanna

One of my favorite childhood books was the first one about a little girl who lived her life searching for the positive in every situation. This outlook on life was taught to her by her father when she received a pair of crutches at Christmas and he told her she should be glad that she did not need them. All of her adventures, through a series of books, were flavored with that positive outlook but, in time, the Pollyanna books grew out of favor and were ridiculed by "those in the know." Some of this came about from those who used this "glad game" to the extreme.

I remember hearing those "Oh, don't be so Pollyannish" remarks from the more sophisticated folks and I gradually drifted from that philosophy of life, at least, in any obvious manner. Thankfully, in time I came to appreciate staying in the middle of extremes instead of abandoning an idea entirely.

Perhaps I still cling to the attitude of looking on the bright side since, unaware to me until someone pointed it out, I usually end my stories, blogs or chapters on a hopeful note. For that I am grateful.

Also I am grateful for growing up in a solid, loving family, in a safe community, attending excellent schools and receiving encouragement for seeking a higher education and an attitude of taking care of myself. I was lucky. All of these advantages were given to me. I could have been born in a poverty-stricken country or the inner cities of our own country. I could have been raised in a dysfunctional family with the abuse and neglect that often follow. But I was born with many advantages and so I should be able to look on the positives in life. Usually it is not difficult for me to observe those who constantly criticize, look on the negatives in life and lash out at anyone and everyone and be grateful that I do not have that outlook, or if I get enmeshed in it for a while, I have a reminder from some one or some thing that gloom and doom outlooks just bring me down to "being stuck in the mud of negation."

Controversy and disagreements can be good. They may bring reflection and growth. I am also grateful for those who like to put the knife of criticism in and turn it slowly. They may be disliked, or largely ignored, but they do make me appreciate all the more those folks who remain calm, polite, kind and focused on trying to make the world a better place, be it ever so simple or slight.

Hello, once again to Pollyanna. May her spirit always remain when we need a pull out of that mud.

Here Come the Ducklings!

Running water always beckons. Our ever-inviting Fall River that winds through our town never tires of its appeal. I would not enjoy my walks if I did not have the river to follow. Children love to play in it. I listen to their laughter and the sounds of the river, increasing in volume as it splashes over the rocks in a mini-cascade. There are just enough benches to stop at along the way and those pauses are occasionally opportunities to visit with walkers who may want to stop for a chat.

During my reflective moments I imagine long ago when only the wildlife stopped at its banks. Later the Indians and then the pioneers enjoyed the ever-moving waters. Today both tourists and locals run, walk, skateboard, bike or amble the river walk.

Today a mother duck brought her newly-hatched brood into the water. She was cautious, very aware of my presence on the bridge above her. The nine eager ducklings were excited, eager to explore a bit, but mostly they were glued to her side and so clustered around her that it took me a while to sort them out from one another and make the count. They were easy to spot with their splash of yellow on their feathers, but mostly they appeared as one moving mass, floating on the waves in unison with their mother.

Mother duck avoided the larger current racing and tumbling over the rocks. She stuck to the quieter side, but with a constant eye out for danger. When I came a bit closer over the bridge to get a clearer look she swam a few feet down the river and disappeared with her charges into the overhanging grasses. I looked carefully for some time but could not see her or her ducklings. She had chosen a safe place - steep banks behind her and enough cover to disappear from me or any other potential threats.

This same mother brought her family from their nest, across the nearby streets, avoiding traffic and dogs and managed to bring them to the safety of the river. Whenever I see these annual endeavors I recall that compelling children's book, Make Way for Ducklings. I wonder how many of the nine tiny balls of feathers will survive to join the flock of ducks that make their home on the warm waters of our river, flowing through all seasons, including the coldest of winters?

What I do know is that on my walks I enjoy watching the fussing ducks swimming in the river year round, together with the cautious deer and sunning turtles. All of this is a hop and a skip from our front door near downtown Hot Springs.

Bursts of Promise

Negativity gets me down, I admit. Doom and gloom are prevalent everywhere, mostly fueled by the media, so when there is a glimmer of kindness, hopefulness or positive news, my spirits rise and I remind myself that life, which always has two sides, is best spent trying to make things better, no matter what the odds.

The past year and a half many of us have tried to keep our special VA facility open and growing for the veterans who have served our country. No matter the outcome, I feel better when I am working to help keep this VA in the Veterans Town. My latest book, soon to be published, is about the town and the veterans struggle to achieve this goal. More on that later.

Right now the latest positive news is that one, maybe two of our restaurants have sold and will soon re-open. A boutique is opening in a business long closed and a McDonald's is coming to town! When that very expensive franchise moves to a town, they believe in the community and its growth. Confidence is what has been lacking for many months, negativity has been rampant and on this beautiful spring day in Hot Springs there is a feeling of electricity, hope and reassurance in the specialness of this hidden treasure of a community in the southern Black Hills of South Dakota.