© September 18, 2008 Tamara D. Fickas
Life behind bars wasn’t as bad as I had heard. The people loved me. I made them laugh and wowed them when I raised my hand to greet them with a big high five. I was spoiled and pampered. It really was a pretty cool time. I knew the time would have to come to an end sometime. I decided to go the online route. I got my picture posted on a web site and who couldn’t help but be charmed by my handsome face and winning personality?
I don’t like to reveal much about my life before. It doesn’t bear repeating. I believe the past should remain in the past. What is important is what my life is like now. For me that’s the game of life, moving forward.
She was persistent; once she had seen my picture she couldn’t resist me. Truth be told I couldn’t resist her either. Don’t tell her that, though, it spoils the illusion of me being my own man. She told me the whole story after I came into her life.
When my profile continued to show on the web site several weeks after she had been told I was taken, she had to check into it. She sent the email and waited, barely able to breathe until she knew. When the response came that I was still available she called her sister. She was so excited; this may be the one she gushed during that call. She couldn’t wait to meet me in person.
I tried to act indifferent when I first met her. I yawned, looked around, tried my best to be nonchalant. Thankfully, she didn’t buy the act. She said, “He’s the one I want.” The deal was done.
She drove to her house. I was nervous and it showed. She talked sweetly to me and encouraged me. I thought I would give it a try and see what happened.
When we got to the house I prowled around. I wanted to check it out. If I was going to be living here I wanted to make sure it was acceptable. It didn’t take long for us to settle into a routine. She learned my habits. I learned hers.
Honestly, life is better here than behind bars. I’m still not talking about my past, but this is definitely better. I wouldn’t go back to the way it was. That’s the game of life. Sometimes the unexpected is just what we need.
In my game of life, I rule the house now. Okay, I admit, I humor her with her rules like not getting up on the dining table, kitchen counters, the computer or piano. Still she has cleared off the coffee table for me. I drink from a glass on that table. I have my toys all over so they are ever ready when I awake from my nap. I love that she leaves the card board boxes around for several days for me to have fun with. I really am easy to please and she really does want me to be happy.
My name is Wilson, the cat. I have found a good human and I love her in my kitty cat way. She loves me, tells me so several times a day. We make a good pair. The game of life has been good to me.
© September 2007 Tamara D. Fickas
This is an essay that was chosen as a scholarship winner for the SomeOne Cares Conference.
http://www.someonecaresonline.com
Living a fairy tale life was great, right up until reality crashed in.
My mother and father have known each other virtually all their life and have been married for 47 years this fall. We lived a military life and moved frequently when I was a child. Family was the one constant I had in my life and come to find out, I had a great family.
The summer of 1998 brought reality to my happy little world. In a 30 day time frame my 39 year old sister-in-law had an aneurysm bleed into her brain and was in a coma for 17 days, my mother’s brother hung himself and my mom was sexually assaulted at work. These events were traumatic enough, but the trauma began a downward spiral in mom.
Her symptoms were varied. For years we had no answers as dad took her to doctors and yet she continued to decline. In early 2006 we found she has Lewy Body Dementia, the second most common form of dementia in the US but virtually unknown to the general public.
Mom is completely dependent at this time. My life allowed for me to begin providing care along with my father. However, in June 2007 dad underwent quintuple bypass surgery and was unable to provide help for mom and needed help himself. At the time of his surgery I moved into their house on a temporary basis and have been providing care for them ever since.
As a very independent person I am always reluctant to ask for help. This whole situation was overwhelming for me and I felt very alone. I had been recently laid off from my job and was in the midst of a job search which added to my stress. Knowing I couldn’t do this alone, I reached out to my friends by requesting prayer. I have a strong faith and knew that prayer would help.
Little did I know but my friends began making plans. Soon I began receiving phone calls. People showed up on our doorstep with food. Always before I had wondered how much help meals really were. Now I know they are a lifesaver when people are going through stressful events. There were offers of help with mom or doing laundry or grocery shopping. I was once again overwhelmed as God’s love showered down on me through my wonderful friends.
My friend, Renee, has been especially wonderful throughout this time. Her well timed phone calls and emails were encouraging and uplifting. Additionally, she kidnapped me at times to take me to dinner, a movie, or to get a pedicure. She always ensured that everything was covered at home as she pampered me!
God was abundantly obvious in my life during this time. I have come to better understand how important it is to take care of the caregivers. I am now searching for ways to shower God’s love on other caregivers.
© October 30, 2006 Tamara D. Fickas
This is a story I did for my Christian Writer's Guild mentor for Lesson 11. It is a retelling of the story of Hannah from 1 Samuel in the Bible.
“Oh Lord, do you not hear my prayer?” For what seemed like the millionth time I cried out in desperation to God. I had been praying for a child. Every year Elkanah and I went to the temple to offer a sacrifice at the appointed time. Every year I promised God if He would give me a child I would give him back to His service.
The ache inside me was intense. Elkanah was a good man and provided for me. He was generous. I suspect he gave me double portions for the sacrifice because of my empty womb. But his other wife, Peninnah was vicious. She taunted me to no end. Who was she to think she’s better than me simply because she had given Elkanah children?
Frustrated, I sank to my knees and again poured my heart out to the Lord. “Hannah,” growled the priest “Why are you drunk in the temple? Have you no shame?”
Eli must have wandered in during my prayer to the Lord and witnessed my distress. I explained to him that I was not drunk with wine but sorrow. “I have prayed for many years for a child and the Lord has not heard me.”
Kneeling quietly beside me, Eli promised, “The Lord has heard and will remember.”
I tucked that promise into my heart and headed back to Ramah with Elkanah. Life went back to normal but months later the tell-tale signs began. I held my tongue and waited to make sure.
Then it was official. Finally, finally, finally I was with child. The Lord had heard and answered my prayer.
When the time came for us to go and sacrifice at the temple I declined. “Elkanah, I want to wean the child before taking him to the temple.” And Elkanah understood. I knew when I took Samuel to the temple I would be leaving him there. He would learn and grow under the tutelage of Eli.
In time, the day came for me to release Samuel back to God. Elkanah, Samuel and I traveled to the temple. There before the Lord I praised Him for His faithfulness. I was overjoyed in His love. He had given me the son I asked for and I gladly kept my promise.
This was printed in the Colorado Springs Gazette on December 19, 2006
©2006 Tamara D. Fickas
I always thought the ornaments were old fashioned and wondered why we kept them on our tree year after year. If it were my tree, I would buy more fashionable ornaments. I was young and didn’t see the value in those old ornaments. Today there are only two ornaments remaining from the set. They now appear priceless in my opinion. Every year I look for those ornaments on the tree. They tell a story of family and love and many wonderful Christmas memories.
Christmas 1960 my parents were young and newlywed. Having just embarked on their journey, they had none of the traditional Christmas items. They walked five blocks as it snowed to the store to purchase ornaments for their first tree. I can imagine my parents holding hands and enjoying the snow. In my imagination they are planning Christmases to come. They have no idea what the future holds but they face it together.
Every year for the last forty-six these ornaments have graced our tree. They have traveled to six states and two foreign countries. They have seen hard years and years of plenty. There they hung as four children were born and raised. They have seen a daughter-in-law, two sons-in-law and six grandchildren join the family. If these ornaments could talk, they would tell many stories. The most amazing story would be the love of two people tying their family together for generations to come. Truly, the value of these ornaments has increased over the years. Someday they will break but the bond of the family will last forever.