tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56676268563261380422024-02-18T22:08:38.280-06:00The Lindy Lewis DiariesFollow the adventures of Lindy
Lewis from the day her house burns....Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-84143079170596794362015-11-12T22:28:00.000-06:002015-11-12T22:32:36.388-06:00The Dark Horse (3)What on earth could she do now to keep her family together, Amie worried a few days later. If Joe was really getting some sort dementia she'd have to get ready to face a world without him. And what about his business? For some time now, his partner had been covering for him when he needed to take a break, but did he know what was really happening? Had Joe confided in him? Or was the partner still believing it was just his blood pressure medicine that was slowing him down. They were best buddies and golf partners as well. They had started their law business together years ago, after both had scraped and saved enough to go out on their own. Amie and Joe had been married for a few years then with one baby and another on the way, so things were tight but Amie had taken in papers to type up for churches and kids to babysit and she had worked like a trojan to help. When she thought about it now, she wondered where she had got the energy to do it all. But I was young then, she declared to herself.<br />
"Where are you my Amie Mamie," she heard Joe murmur now as he came down the stairway. He seemed to be his old self as he came into the kitchen and bent over and kissed her on her lips. <br />
"Why Joe," she said smiling playfully, "you know I'm always right here." <br />
"Yes, I know, but what shall we have for dinner tonight? Should I pick something up from the deli?" He asked. <br />
She was just cleaning up after breakfast and hadn't a thought about what to eat later. But here he was already worrying about it.<br />
"Well, its really too early," Amie said as she put the dishies in the dish-washer and wiped down the placemats on the table. "Come on and sit down here with me as I clean up." She invited.<br />
"Or we could go out and have something wonderful and let someone else do the cooking." Joe insisted. <br />
"Lets see how we feel a little later and then decide." Amie suggested and turned her back to wipe down and shine the granite counters she'd had installed in her kitchen some years ago when they had renovated. And not paying attention now to what Joe was doing, she suddenly felt an arm go around her neck and tighten as he pulled her back against him, and then the cold tip of a knife dig into her throat.<br />
"See how this feels and then we'll decide this?" Joe said in a muffled voice.<br />
Amie tried to scream! But no sound came out of her throat. This was her husband, the man she had loved for decades. Why was he trying to hurt her? She tried to twist around to see his face but he was too strong and held her in a vise like grip.<br />
His face was next to hers as he growled in her ear. "Listen, lady I don't know who you are, but you better get the hell out of here before my wife gets back, or she'll kill you. Understand! <br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-96421271444556912015-10-04T20:45:00.002-05:002015-10-04T20:45:41.557-05:00The Dark HorseAmie stood in the doorway to her husband's bathroom. There he was, apparently just out of the shower, just sitting there calmly on the closed stool. Naked!<br />
"Tony," she called out to him, "what in the world is wrong, hurry and get dressed, and lets have lunch, the kids will be over and will want to stay and visit for awhile."<br />
He looked at her as if she were a stranger. "Who? He asked standing up and gathered a clutter of newspapers. <br />
The kids! Sweetheart, you know who they are," Amie answered patiently taking the stuff from him and handing him a robe. "Eddie and Ella and then of course they'll bring little Arnold along."<br />
"Who?" Tony asked again. And Amie very patiently went on to repeat it to him as he tried to tie the belt on the plaid flannel robe.<br />
Putting all the papers and books down Amie murmured,"Let me help you with that dear," and, then hurried to the kitchen ahead of Tony. Worriedly, she gave the room a quick once and it looked okay, but several times earlier, he had done some minor damage around the house when she'd had to go out for something or other and he'd been home alone. And then he had turned childlike and behaved like one just as he was doing now. He had appeared normal then the last few weeks and she had worried for nothing. <br />
But now somewhat heartbroken, Amie took the ham and cheese, grain bread and mayo out of the refrigerator and set the table for lunch. She'd made the iced tea earlier and that was nice and cold and she filled two glasses.<br />
Tony suddenly stormed into the kitchen and stood stock still, then yelled "Amie, what the hell did you do to this room?"<br />
Startled, she cried,"Oh-- and dropped the plates she'd just gotten down from the cupboard. Two of her beautiful luncheon plates lay shattered on the tiled kitchen floor.<br />
"Amie, this isn't my house, where are we?" He turned around in circles with a wild look in his eyes as if he was searching to find something familiar. Amie looked at the mess on the floor, then at the man she had known and loved for several decades and now, suddenly didn't know him. He seemed a stranger to her too.<br />
Tony was still a very handsome man, his hair had turned white and he had lost some extra pounds so he appeared fit and trim. He was a attorney and had a sucessful career in the attorney general's office in DC and had provided his wife and kids with a confortable life. <br />
But now, something had gone wrong for him, and for her as well.<br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-53639511438038026572015-08-24T15:27:00.001-05:002015-08-24T15:27:32.712-05:00The Dark HorseAmie Andrews stepped into her lovely new house and hurriedly closed the door behind her. The wood floors gleamed and the smell in it was of "new home". She had just gotten through decorating the entryway or foyer, as she loved to call it a few days ago, and it was the last room in her home to do. And it had turned out beautifully. She opened the closet door and hung her big purse on one of the hooks, and dropped her keys and sun glasses in a basket she had placed on a table that stood against the wall. She glanced around appreciatively at the colors she had chosen for the walls and the accessories. Then satisfied she had done a great job, she checked her appearance in the round mirror that hung above it. In the reflection, she saw a slightly older woman, maybe in her sixties with a fairly unlined face, with blue eyes and auburn hair. <br />
Amie leaned in a little closer and stared into her own eyes, then stepped back hurriedly as she saw something she did not understand. Now she was familiar with those eyes as she had been looking at them, and looking out of them for years now. <br />
But today she had seen something quicken in their dept that was alarming: a flash, a glimmer. Something that brought about a quick intake of her breath. <br />
But was it a premonition? Something to come? Did it explain that constant pain in her stomach?<br />
She sucked in her stomach, and lifted her shoulders and put a smile on her face, then ruffled her short hairdo, and pinched her cheeks for more color. Upon entering the kitchen she looked around for her husband and was totally surprised as it looked like he did not have any thing set out and ready for lunch. They had talked about having ham and cheese sandwiches on grain bread with iced tea to drink after she got back from her appointment. He loved to putter around in their pretty new room but he usually had the table set with place mats and napkins, and dishes from one of their many luncheon sets when she would let him into her area.<br />
But today for some reason he was not there. Usually soft music filled the room from a small speaker that was hooked up to I Tunes, but this early afternoon the room was quiet.<br />
"Tony, where are you?" Amie called as she went through the rooms, leading to their bedroom first, thinking he must have decided to go back to bed, after all it was his day off from the office. And come to think of it, Amie thought quiltily, he'd seemed so tired lately and after all, he was a hard-working attorney.<br />
But coming into the room, she saw their bed was untouched and nothing seemed disturbed. No clothes strewn around, no closet doors standing open or any drawers out of line.<br />
She saw his bathroom door was closed and paused. Did she hear the shower running? And after standing for a minute and listening and hearing nothing, she called out again.<br />
"Hey sweetheart, are you in there?" And when she didn't get a answer, she knocked discreetly then turned the knob and swung the door inward, then whispered, holy hell!<br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-46706849965495835292015-07-27T19:48:00.001-05:002015-07-27T19:48:26.694-05:00Stay tuned.....Hello Friends: I'm sorry I've had to take some time off and just finish up some family things, and also, have been incredibly busy getting my next book called "Almighty" ready to send out for the finishing touches.<br />
I will be back with a "blood curdling" short story later in Agust.<br />
<br />
Thanks<br />
LynLyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-52878669121355534122015-05-31T19:39:00.005-05:002015-05-31T19:39:52.921-05:00AGE and Dreams"How can you be that old, that's my age!" I said again at one of my children's birthday parties and it always causes laughter. Now and then though, I'd catch a glimpse of worry cross their faces. I would see it often too as they drove away after a visit, as they waved goodbye. They'd throw kisses and smile as they left, but probably all wondered, really how is she?<br />
Well, you know as the parade of time flies by for me, no matter how old I get I can thank my God that I can still think young. Well why not, sometimes I even go so far as to think I'm still in my forties and fifties. And young and taut!<br />
Years ago, a hundred it seems at times, things were so different and I was nesting happily. Bills were paid up with money in the bank. I shopped and cooked and tried new recipes and enjoyed my grandchildren. A bulge had started around my middle, but that was expected at this time and it was okay. Painting, planting, mowing, oiling and filling were just some of the numerous things that were miraculously done around my house and yard,without much notice.<br />
Then abruptly, things changed and the love of my life died! Now my constant companion was lonliness and sadness. And forgive me Lord, I felt so much anger. Here I had been so happy at last, and life was easier, why did this have to happen? <br />
I felt sorry for myself, after all, I was a good person; I didn't deserve this. How would I manage? Who would hold me now and always be there to protect me from the three am demons in the night?<br />
Worst of all, I had to live by myself, alone with me and the inevitable quiet that continued day and night without end. This was something I had never been faced with. <br />
Well, I prowled the house at all hours of the day and night, lost sleep, drove miles and wandered aimlessly trying to find a niche to fit into. I didn't have that safe cocoon I'd built around myself anymore, this was a different world! <br />
Well, I survived but it wasn't easy. But I can acknowledge the changes I had gone through wth a smile, as the solitude in this house forced me to get to know the real me. As over time I stuggled with self-worth, self-preservation and then of course, survivor's guilt. It took time and I started to write about my sorrow, and, I filled many tablets those first years. Which to this day I still write, but now it's for entertainment. <br />
Now, I cook if I please or buy take-out. I decide if I want to send Christmas cards or not. I can blare my music late in to the night or go to bed at six o'clock. And mportantly too, I have learned sleep in the middle of the bed!<br />
So my number of years may be staggering kids, but my thoughts and feelings are alive and well, and again with a youthfull curiousity.<br />
<br />
Circa 2005 Lyn Lacoursiere<br />
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Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-53761916004475705232015-05-07T20:35:00.003-05:002015-05-07T20:35:58.978-05:00Alone with TimeI sit here in my faded robe<br />
My morning coffee at my side<br />
The shades are up, the day has dawned<br />
And all my thoughts are on a ride.<br />
<br />
Now I wonder where my time has gone<br />
So fast at times, I ponder<br />
Can these days slow down for me, or<br />
Will they put me under.<br />
<br />
What will give me comfort now<br />
I question as I sit here<br />
Will the coldness in my heart<br />
Awaken soon. I hope. I fear.<br />
<br />
My buoyant heart is worn and old <br />
My hair is full of wire<br />
My thighs are slim, but hang all wrong<br />
My only warmth is from a fire.<br />
<br />
My loves have always been my life<br />
My strength and courage, and my home <br />
Now I wonder if there's time, and <br />
Do I really want to roam.<br />
<br />
The times I've loved have been and gone<br />
The lessons sometimes hurt<br />
My feelings have been ripped apart<br />
High and low, then tossed and turned.<br />
<br />
Will I be content to rest<br />
Forever in this slump<br />
Or will I trample out to buy<br />
The things I'll need to pump.<br />
<br />
Will the lotions and the oils<br />
Revitalize and give me hope<br />
Will I emerge so ravishing<br />
Or will I fail and mope.<br />
<br />
Will I really need the lace<br />
The perfumes and the creams<br />
The magic of the "Wonder Bra"<br />
To fulfill all my dreams.<br />
<br />
Will I emerge again anew<br />
Or will I cry and whine<br />
Will I stay inside my house<br />
Or will I dance and dine.<br />
<br />
Will I dare to venture <br />
Or is it time to sleep<br />
My books, my socks and washed out flannels<br />
Forever in my keep.<br />
<br />
I ponder in my faded robe<br />
A new day, warm and bright<br />
My thoughts have circled, now plans abound<br />
The road is now in sight.<br />
<br />
No I say, I just won't do it<br />
I'm learning now to live<br />
Alone with me, content with time<br />
Myself, the gift to give.<br />
<br />
-Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (Cira 1995)<br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-60171109688949464612015-05-07T20:23:00.002-05:002015-05-07T20:26:59.392-05:00Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-70797890563798262582015-04-22T08:27:00.000-05:002015-04-22T08:27:03.712-05:00<div class="uiScaledImageContainer" style="height: 470px; width: 315px;">
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<a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1008169772" href="https://www.facebook.com/lynmiller.lacoursiere">Lyn Miller Lacoursiere</a> at the <a class="profileLink" data-gt="{"entity_id":"1381828055381819","entity_path":"WebPermalinkStreamController"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=1381828055381819" href="https://www.facebook.com/GabrielsHornPress">Gabriel's Horn</a> Book Expo.</div>
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Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-9670628661868255572015-03-15T19:47:00.000-05:002015-03-15T19:47:10.830-05:00REVENGE (8)Red, Laverne and Lola all agreed to meet later in the coffee shop in the hotel. It had been so good to just be themselves and share, like it used to be.<br />
As the grownup former students entered the school for the class reunion, they recognized the same smell in the building, only more pungent now. The furniture polish, old boards and old sweat brought back a reminder of their younger days. The gym was set up with extra tables and chairs, with crepe paper streamers and plastic flowers centerpieces.<br />
The kids were all there; only fatter, skinnier, older and some richer and some poorer. The snobs from the "prominent famillies" were still snobs and spent most of the night in their own circle as usual. All in all, Lola, Red and Laverne talked and danced the night away and the party for them was a sucess.<br />
At the close of the evening, three shadows darted, one by one, each unaware of each other, and made their way to a white house next door to the school. Each one was carrying a small bag that had been hidden in their evening bags.<br />
Lola was the first to get there and she found Jake Rierson wondering the house in his new jeans and flannel shirt, the set he only used for special occassions. When she burst in and he recognized her and saw the look on her face, he felt the first tinges of fear. After a few minutes Red and then Laverne came in. Now his fear was real and he knew something bad was going to happen to him.The girls stood there for a minute as the realization of their purpose registered, and instantly they knew that they were all there for the same purpose.<br />
They met again later in the coffee shop and gossiped about the party and made plans to meet again soon. The next day they each left to go back to their busy lives.<br />
Later, Lola gave up her profession and wrote a book on her life as a prositute. It was published and she became a famous novelist and later traveled the world.<br />
Red decided to challenge her "phobias" finally. One of which was driving on the freeways. One day she got her courage up and thought, this it it! I'm going out there and just do it. And she was doing pretty good until she was going down a ramp to enter heavy traffic, and the old panic attack came back. Her soft humming of a "church song' was drowned out by her terror as she saw she was going to crash. She died instantly. <br />
Laverne raised her four kids and worked hard for years. She stayed in her therapy group and got stronger. Later when she was alone, she went to school and learned how to be creative in her thinking and in her work. She opened a learning center for battered and unskilled women to come to and stay while they learned how to put their lives back together. She was to become famous for her work.<br />
Years earlier, a small article had appeared in a small town paper. A man by the name of Jake Rierson <br />
had burned up in a house fire. There were some strange evidences, but no clues were found. However, his body was burned beyond recognition, and the small remaining residue of rat poison in his stomach went unnoticed. And the acid burns on his head and body may have been from some batteries that had exploded from the heat. The only question remaining that puzzled the police was, why was there piano wire around his balls and tied in a bow? <br />
Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-55932364777090552672015-02-16T19:15:00.002-06:002015-02-16T19:16:36.402-06:00REVENGE (7)A blanket lay on the floor covering the flowered carpet and Red was laying on it trying to concentrate on an Elvis tune she'd heard. She had a closed look on her face as the man in a plaid shirt and jeans with a shiny bald head was on top of her. The only sound in the room was his heavy breathing, and after a time he got up. A clock in the room boomed out five-thirty and Red saw it was time to go home and make dinner. As she was running out the door, Jake called out, "Red, if you say anything to anybody you won't be able to come over and use my piano anymore. He was in the kitchen now and holding a sharp knife as he was cutting into a loaf of bread.<br />
Red was small and skinny, with red hair and blue eyes. She was the brain in her class and took part in all the school plays, sang in church and declared someday she was going to Hollywood and be a star. She came from a large family and they couldn't afford a piano, so Jake, everybodies friend, had told her she could use his. As it just stood there in his house.<br />
Oh, how excited she was when she first went over and began to pick out the melodies to match the songs she had learned. This was a dream come true for a eight year old girl.<br />
Red worked hard at home taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. And always helping with the cooking and cleaning. She had become a quite a baker and could stir up a golden yellow cake from scratch in minutes. <br />
Laverne was happy today and she was walking home from school with ther friends, Red and Lola. Her nipples itched again and felt hot, but this was a good sign they all agreed because in a few years they would all be older and almost grown. Laverne was an orphan and an average student, and didn't have any plans yet for her future. Maybe get married and have four kids . She was tall and had long black hair even as a little girl, with big brown eyes. Maybe she was a little Mexican she thought. But there were no papers to tell her anything about herself but her last name was Cruz, and that souned like she might be. She said goodby to her friends and they all promised to go out and sell their candy bars for money for their school.<br />
.Later that evening, Laverne could hear the small soap bubles brusting in the cleaning foam on the carpet with the big flowers, as they burst close to her ears making a snapping noise. She was pinned down and a wet rag was stuffed in her mouth. The smell was so strong she could almost taste the awful combination of cleaners in her mouth and throat, but it was nothing compared to what this man was doing to her. This man who had always been so nice to her. She lay there finally, bruised and hurt, her eyes filling with tears. However she was gaining her strength back and as he rolled off her, she reached over for the scrub pail and tossed the water with the chemicals at him. Jake sat there for a minute on his knees, dumbfonded, as the deadly water ran down his face and into his eyes. And this was just enough time for her to run, pulling on her clthes as she flung the door open to get away from the man and that house.<br />
She wondered fearfully, is this what its all about?<br />
.Now decades later, the three girls met in the hotel lobby in their home town. They hugged and cried, complimented each other and then went in to the lounge to have a cocktail and really catch up. Lola, classy and blonde, Laverne looking lovely in her new look and Red, still skinny with redder hair. They talked and laughed and soon it was time to get ready for the party at their school.Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-48672251853892322392015-01-21T15:06:00.001-06:002015-01-21T15:06:52.950-06:00REVENGE (5)Jacob Rierson was an only child born to foreign parents. He grew up alone and never knew love. His mother was squat in stature, big busted and wore heavy stockings and laced shoes. She had had no formal education and only knew how to cook and clean. His father was tall, straight laced, redfaced with no humor or emotions. The Rierson family lived on a small farm in the country where they barely managed to scratch out a livng for themselves.<br />
Jake grew up without having any real toys, his only world was his play house in the woods and square of dirt where he made little farms and roads and used sticks for people and rocks and tin cans for houses. They didn't have any bathing facilities in the house so that was done outside under the clothes line with rugs pinned up for privacy. This was a weekly thing and his mother stood there and scrubed and scrubed him. He went to school in a one room space with all eight grades crammed in together. The kids were mean and poked fun at him because he was quiet and didn't know the games or even how to play. In his frustrated lonliness he bagan to pick at his hair and soon this pecular habit over time, resulted in gradually having no hair left on his head.<br />
When his folks sold the farm they bought a house in town, which happened to be right next to a high school. There it was worse for him and he just exsisted in a world of having to go to classes, had no friends, no sports and poor grades.<br />
Soon his body began to develope and the normal urges began. And when his mother found spots on his sheets, and herself being uneducated and could not explain what was happening to the boy. Her only action was to severely beat him using a whip on his hands and make him scrub and clean for her. So this was how he learned to clean. The belief was implanted in his brain that sexual urges were bad and sinful and that he had to use soap and water to cleanse himself of this awful fault. <br />
Later when his folks died, Jake stayed on in the house next to the school where he had become a janitor. His excistence was going to work and cleaning there and coming home and cleaning some more.<br />
Jake always read the bullitin board first when he came in to work each day. He felt a tingle of excitement when he saw a notice posted that said it was time for the kids to start selling cookies again. And also there was a big sheet announcing a twenty five year class reunion coming up soon. He read the list of names of the graduates and recognized three from that year. Lola Lewis, a pretty blonde, Randi Mills a skinny little redhead and Lavern Cruz, the tall one with the long black hair and brown eyes.<br />
For a minute tears threatened, he wasn't invited of course but he would be there, out of sight. Now he had to make the old school sparkle, bring out the extra tables and chairs, hang crepe paper and be handy to run and fetch for the committee.<br />
When Jake was done for the day cleaning the floors in school, he went home and put on clean clothes. As he had new jeans and a shirt for special occassions now. He looked pretty much the same only older, with sadder eyes, and his hair had fianlly began to grow back. But only in tufts scattered here and there around his head. He was proud now because he had hair, but he didn't realize he looked stranger than ever.<br />
<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-80336874783073986562014-12-31T10:41:00.000-06:002014-12-31T10:41:27.202-06:00REVENGE 4Lola sat with a cup of coffee, deep in thought. She wondered if her close friends from back then would come to their twenty-fifth class reunion. Its been so long since we've seen each other, she murmured, and only a few telephone calls over the years. Good Lord, it must be twenty years since we got together.<br />
We can catch up with each others life. I hope they won't be shocked when I tell them how I make my living, but I'm sure they won't judge me.<br />
Lola called and made her reservation to fly in first class, then booked a room at the hotel in her home town.<br />
She could have stayed with her mom, but she lived in a small apartment and really didn't have room for anyone extra to sleep comfortably. Besides Lola was used to living alone and like her space.<br />
I'll have to call and see if my new initialed luggage is in and pick that up and shop for something new and subdued to wear. But right now I just want to get into my own cozy bed and read and rest. Later as she was packing, she wrapped a small package inside a slip for safe keeping. On the outside before she covered it up it read, "poison if ingested".<br />
In spite of the hard times Lavern and her family had had, the kids were growing up with good moral values, thanks to their mother's basic beliefs. Her therapy group was going good for her now and she learned how to talk about her problems with courage. She told them about the invitation to the class reunion coming up, and how much she wanted to go.That it would be wonderful to go and see her old friends again, that it had been so long since she had laughed and had a good time. But with all her responsibilities, it was impossible.<br />
Tonight, they had surprised her and had all the arrangements ready. They took her shopping for a great dress, to have her hair cut and shaped, and her nails done. They gave her an airline ticket, a room reservation and a baby sitter to take care of her children.<br />
She was overwhelmed by the generosity of her friends and words escaped her as she tried to say thanks. Then spent the last night at home packing and finally took a long luxurious bath. One of the last things she put in her suitcase was a bottle containing a clear liquid. On the side of it in big bold letters it read, "acid".<br />
Jacob Rierson always read the bulletin board first when he came in to work each day. He felt excitement when he saw a notice posted that said it was time for the kids to start selling girl scout cookies again. There also was a big sheet announcing the twenty fifth year class reunion. He read the list of names of the graduates and recognized three from that year. Pretty blond Lola Lewis, the skinny Randi Mills and Lavern Cruz, the tall one with the long black hair and brown eyes.<br />
For a minute tears came, then a tingle of excitement. He wasn't invited but he would be there. Weeks went by and he was busy as he had to make the old school sparkle for the event.<br />
When he was finally done for the day he went home to get ready to receive his girl scout cookies. He put on clean clothes as he had new jeans and a plaid shirt for special occasions. He looked pretty much the same as always only older, sadder but now his hair had grown out, but in tufts scattered around his head. He was proud because now he had hair, but he didn't realize that he looker stranger than ever.<br />
Jake looked around the house to make sure it was clean and it was. The carpet was almost white now with only vague reminders of the outlines of the big flowers showing. After years of scrubbing the floors, walls, ceilings and furniture, everything seemed to blend into one color of faded foggy nothingness erasing the lines of structures and blending one in to another.<br />
Everything is clean, he whispered, so it was ready for company.<br />
Jacob was born to parents of foreign descent and was their only child. He grew up alone and never knew love. His mother was squat in stature, big busted and wore heavy stockings and laced shoes. Metal curlers were in her hair most of the time and when she did comb it out, it was only slightly, so the tight curls lay in rows. She had no education beyond fourth grade and only knew how to cook and clean. His father was tall, straight laced, red faced with no humor and less emotions. And they lived on a small farm in the country where they barely managed to scrape out a living.<br />
*********** <br />
<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-32659834069742111142014-11-29T20:58:00.000-06:002014-11-29T21:03:18.077-06:00REVENGE (3)Lindy sat at the counter in the kitchen having a cup of coffee, deep in thought wondering if Red and Laverne would come to their twenty-fifth class reunion too. It's been so long since we've seen each other, she murmured. She thought back to the few phone calls they'd exchanged over the years, and, that they had never taken the time to meet up with each other. Wouldn't it be great if they do come and we would have the chance to catch up with each other. We could laugh and giggle about the good times.<br />
Lindy called and made reservation in first class to fly to her home town, and also booked a room at the Grand Hotel for several nights. She could stay with her mother, but she lived in a small apartment and didn't have room for anyone to sleep comfortably as she only had a love-seat and a couple of chairs in her living room. Besides Lindy was used to living alone and liked her own space.<br />
I'll have to see if my new Hennesey luggage is in, and shop for something new and more subdued to wear. But right now I just want to get into my own cozy bed and read and relax.<br />
Later, as she was packing she wrapped a small package inside a sweater for safe keeping.<br />
**<br />
Red and her boyfriend Pete were lying on the couch at her house and it had been a perfect evening. They had talked about their thoughts and dreams and their plans for the next few days. Red was in love with Pete, but she knew he did not feel the same way about her. He had admitted that he had always been a loner, sometimes selfish and insenitive but that was who he was, but now he would change. So Red contented herself with the times they had together, and didn't worry about it a future. When she told him about the class reunion coming up, he encouraged her to go and to enjoy her friends and old times. So she excitedly arranged for time off from work, shopped for new outfits and had her hair reshaped and highlighted. Later as she was packing to go, Pete called her and said he "loved her." Well now, life was wonderful again and full of joy. She hummed a song to herself as she slipped an oblong box in amongst her prettty things and closed her suitcases.<br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-81087063332207434342014-11-05T13:22:00.000-06:002014-11-30T12:07:16.737-06:00Revenge (2)There seems to be a lot of really nice people here tonight, LaVerne St.James thought to herslelf as she sat amongst them at her therapy group awhile back. I wonder though, is everyone as screwed up as me?<br />
And little by little, they were getting to know each other and trust, so as the weeks went by more and more secrets, sad stories and horrors came out into the open. She was sitting by a mirror where she caught a glimpse of herself and saw her grey streaked hair and the lines in her face. She clasped her hands togeher and looked down and saw they were chapped and her nails broken. Her slacks were baggy, and her shoes were worn and old. LaVerne was still tired and sickly, but not as bad as she had been, as now her new friends gave her strength and courage.<br />
Years ago, she had met a nice boy in high school and dated him, then gotten
pregnant and married him while they were both kids themselves. For a
time they were happy being together and watching their baby grow, and
much too soon, another came along.<br />
As she walked home after the meeting this evening,she thought back remembering the high hopes she'd had then, after her marriage, of having a nice home and her own new furniture. All the material things that other people had. But many years went by and she had never gotten them. They had moved to a larger city where job possibitlites were greater for her husband to find a good paying job. And more babies came along and the bills began to pile up and things went downhill from there. LaVerne was forced to put her babies with a sitter and go out and find work. And soon she became the sole provider as her husband had began to drink and use drugs. And she always, blamed heself for screwing up his life, by getting pg and having to get marrried. As in those days that was what you did.<br />
Years went by and the kids were growing and soon the older ones were big enough to take care of the small ones so LaVerne took more jobs, and sometimes had three, to make ends meet. Life was still a struggle but it had been a way of life for so long, Then the older kids began college and left home to make their own lives, and gathering her courage, LaVerne found an attorney that would take her case with nothing down so she could file for divorce. And because she didn't have any money to do this, she agreed to house clean for him and his family once a week. She found it was a total pigpen, but she had promised so she diligently went and scrubbed and cleaned as this was the only way she could be free. <br />
Whe her husband finally got the papers, he was enraged and gave her a beating, the worst of her life, and that was when a kind person came and got her and brought her to the meeting, and that had saved her life.<br />
Tonight now, she walked into her apartment and hung her sweater in the closet. The two teens had washed the dishes and the house was quiet, so it was peaceful to sit and relax, and read the mail. There was a final notice about the gas bill again, but the check was in the mail so that was okay. Another letter was addressed to her including her maiden name, Laverne Cruz St. James, which surprised her. It looked official and it frightened her for a moment. And when she opened it she found it was an invitation to her twenty five year class reunion. She thought how wonderful it would be to see her old friends again. Maybe she would go, she'd get some pretty clothes and splurge on a make over.<br />
This time she had to go, as she had a good reason to go back! <br />
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. Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-85482053765337258272014-09-28T21:16:00.001-05:002014-09-28T21:16:38.945-05:00Revenge (1)Randi Mills or Red, as she had been called by everyone since childhood was sitting in the bathtub shaving her legs and checking her body over. God, she laughed, do we actually get gray hair here too?<br />
She was getting ready for the love of her life to come over. Tonight would be beautiful. We'll drink some wine, smoke some weed, listen to some good sounds and make love. And we'll use my new oil, she remembered as she toweled herself off and spritzed perfume on those special places.<br />
This man had been her reason for living now as he had given her new insights into the meaning of love, and had been her inspiration to pursue a career in singing. She didn't need the money, but she craved the attention the stage gave her.<br />
The man looked like a golden God to her. Fair skin, freckles and light reddish brown curly hair. Six feet tall, and somewhere around two hundred pounds with a hard body. Above average in intelligence he claimed, but a damn coward to comitments of any kind like a lasting love or a steady job. He definitely was what she thought a free spirit must be and sometimes wished she could change herself to be as carefree as he was.<br />
Red lived on the North Shore of Duluth in a modest house by the water. She had been married for many years with grown kids and was enjoying an empty nest. Her husband had been an avid deer hunter but several years ago, he had been shot and killed in a accident on one of those hunting trips, and it had left her in a complete state of insecure despair. And it had taken her quite a few years to come to grips with life again. <br />
She pulled on a new pair of slim fitting jeans, a white silk shirt, did her make-up and fluffed her red hair. She hurried downstairs to make sure the house was in order.<br />
Hell, she thought I better get the mail and take care of the bills tomorrow. and not forget again.<br />
There was a pile of flyers, newspapers, bills and also a letter that caught her attention. She saw it was from her home town and wondered who could be writing to her. Opening it, she found it was an invitation to her twenty-fifth year class reunion. My God, she whispered, has it been that long?<br />
This one she wouldn't miss. She had made a promise to herself and she had a mission to fullfill!Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-60125927516698272102014-09-19T20:04:00.001-05:002014-09-19T20:04:30.283-05:00Last Revenge Prologue<br />
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She sat up on the couch and looked into the kitchen, and saw a bald man on his knees, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans washing the floor. It took her a minute to recognize Jake, and the living room of his house.<br />
"Jake," she asked mystified, "did I fall asleep again?"<br />
"Yes, you did and I laid you on the davenport and put the blanket over you."<br />
She was awake now and realized she might be late for school, so she said goodbye and hurried away. As she sat in her home room doing her math she glanced down and saw that one of her socks was on inside out.<br />
Funny, she thought, how come I didn't notice it when I got dressed this morning.<br />
Soon the bell rang for recess and she met her friends in the bathroom. And while sitting on the stool, behind the door she quickly changed the sock before they would notice and tease her.<br />
However, while sitting there, she wondered why it hurt so while she peed, then felt a tenderness of her breasts against the fabric of her bra. <br />
Maybe she thought, this means I'm growing up and all these mysterious things that have been happening is what I should expect.<br />
******Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-48150764749651171902014-08-22T21:23:00.001-05:002014-08-22T21:23:20.705-05:00A Final Victory (4)That was days ago. Then three weeks went by and Monte still had not heard from Jon.<br />
Guiltily at first, she checked his hotel in Fargo, but he hadn't been there. As time went on, she became more determined. Then found none of the hotels he'd said he stayed at had ever heard of a Jon, or Jonathon Sanders! Finally in desperation she called the Goodyear Company, and, they had no employee by that name.<br />
No one seemed to had ever heard of him!<br />
She gathered the billfold, cards and files together and hurriedly changed clothes.<br />
"Miss Blair, you've found something? Her attorney asked seeing the briefcase when she stepped in his office.<br />
They sat down and the leather chair felt cold as she leaned back and took a halting breath.<br />
"I just can't believe this." Monte's face was pale and her voice shook as she showed him the cards and papers with many different names.<br />
"Miss Blair, you look so tired, why don't you go home and I'll go through this and call you," he said kindly. <br />
The deed the attorney was holding interested him. It was for twenty acres just out of the city.<br />
"Miss Blair," he said the next day on the phone, "You need to see the sheriff and file a warrant for this man's arest." And within a week the man was found and put in jail.<br />
Now, two weeks later they were in court, and Monte sat stonefaced, listening to what they'd discovered.<br />
His real name was Joe Sager. And he was wanted in six states for theft, robbery, and swindle. His crimes always involved women.<br />
"Mr Sager," the stern faced, judge was saying, "I'm sentencing you to prison for twenty years!"<br />
The man's face blanced.<br />
Monte's attorney stood up. "Your Honor," he said, "I have a deed here for some land Mr. Sager owns, that might interest you." He handed it to the judge and after a few minutes the judge declared.<br />
"Mr Sager, as restition to Miss Blair, I order you to sign this property over to her!"<br />
"My land, no--" Perspiration ran down Sager's flushed face. The orange coverall harsh in the bright afternoon sunlight that streamed in a window in the courtroom. "But-," he stammered again.<br />
"We've got him now," Monte's attorney whispered, "That land is one of the areas being researched as a possible site for a shopping center."<br />
Joe Sager said pleadingly. "But I inherited it from my dad. This is all I got!"<br />
"Case dismissed!" The judge ordered, sharply banging his gavel and then it was over.<br />
Monte stood up. "Well, at least I got something, maybe I can sell it for a few thousand dollars," she said to her attorney.<br />
"Listen, that deed was the real thing Miss Blair."<br />
"I don't understand, is it worth something?" Monte asked.<br />
With a grin on his face he said, "now I can tell you. If that deal happens and that piece of land is chosen for that venture, that shopping center is going to be the second largest in the world. There's one just like it in Canada!" <br />
Too late, she'd found out this man whom she had loved was a fraud. <br />
And just as he was about to leave the courtroom handcuffed, she jumped to her feet and with all her hurt and anguish blazing in her eyes, she faced him triumphantly and yelled, "Now asshole, how does it feel to have lost your dream!"<br />
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Lyn Lacoursiere (circa 1999)<br />
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Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-27800140623833644512014-07-21T10:36:00.000-05:002014-07-21T10:40:17.798-05:00A Final Victory (3)The kitchen was dark as night as the storm raged on. Early spring rain mixed with snow hit the windows with a deafening clatter. Monte switched on the lights and worriedly looked outside, then sat down at the table and began to search through everything. Files and billfold both.<br />
She recognized Jon's handwriting. There were papers apparently dealing with a court case involving a farm. Although she didn't recognize any of the names. Another file was about a court case; a Jack Smith and a woman. The amount, $10.000 dollars stood out in big numbers. She took a deep breath.<br />
Another file had a map and a paper that had "deed" printed on the top. Then she picked up the billfold.<br />
This must belong to someone else, she thought in relief as she saw a strange name on the drivers license, until she saw the picture of Jon smiling his easy grin. And here the name said Jason Smith!<br />
Oh God, this was unbelieveable! I don't even know his real name. With a sinking feeling then, she remembered telling him about her inheritance early in their relationship.<br />
Monte sat at the table in her kithen as the storm raged on with both rain and snow. The wind whipped tree branches against the roof of the house. The lights flickered.<br />
She got up from her chair and began pacing around the house, she stopped in her bedroom and looked at the bed where they had spent so much time.<br />
Damn you Jon, or whoever the hell you are!<br />
She stood there, angry and heartbroken. Mascara streaked down her face, and a few cobwebs still stuck in her hair from the basement. Her sobs turned to small whimpers as she began ripping the sheets off her bed and carried them, blankets and pillows into the laundry room and stuffed as much as she could in the washer. She had trusted him, but apparently he had just wanted her money.<br />
"Monte," she remembered his saying, "Let's go and look at this property up north that's for sale."<br />
As a salesman for a tire company, Jon traveled and had been in town again for a few days. They had driven to Detroit Lakes on a sunny day earlier, and it had turned out to be a lovely log cabin nestled in the woods next to a clear blue lake. The trees were aglow with brilliant reds, gold and yellows leaves. Wildflowers and birch trees grew everywhere and Monte had fallen in love with it. The price was $50.000 dollars.<br />
Another weekend came to mind now. They'd had a cozy evening together, and he had brought a bottle of champagne.<br />
"Monte," she remembered him saying, "I can't get that cabin out of my mind, it would be great if we could split the price and buy it. Maybe we could even call it our honeymoon hideaway," he had added with a mysterious wink. They had talked about it late into the night.<br />
"It's a good investment, and we could resell it later and make a good profit on it," he had added.<br />
Monte had decided she would use some of her inheritance for her half. And he promised when they resold he would repay her the ten grand he'd gotten earlier with interest. And right now, he'd get his twenty five thousand out of his year end bonus that was due.<br />
Maybe we'll get married this fall, she daydreamed.<br />
"Jon," she had said that weekend, "I have the money for my half of the price of the cabin." <br />
"Monte, that's great! I've got alot of vacation to take this summer and we'll have a wonderful time." He had reached over and given her a excited hug. <br />
On Monday, she saw the cashiers check was missing from her desk drawer.<br />
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<br />Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-61942155025676303852014-06-17T08:57:00.001-05:002014-06-17T09:04:39.948-05:00A Final Victory (2)"Monte, this is beautiful!" Jon Saunders had exclaimed after opening the gaily wrapped birthday present. He had pranced around the living room showing off the watch she had bought for him Then he had come home after a week on the road and said sadly, "Someone stole my watch right out of my car. I had stopped for a sandwich and had left it on the console." <br />
"Jon," I had asked, "did you have the doors locked?" And looking sheepish he admitted he had forgotten.<br />
Resuming her task downstairs looking through his things, she found the third box was full of more junk. Finally at the bottom of the fourth one she found a briefcase. It was brown and old, and the handle was missing.<br />
Monte pushed her hair out of her eyes. Just then the phone rang upstairs causing her to jump in surprise. <br />
Maybe its Jon! She though guiltily, what will I say? It was raining hard as she ran up the stairs.<br />
"Monte," her friend's voice had come over the crackling line. "Do you want to get together this afternoon?"<br />
"I can't Rica, I'm sorry. Listen, I'm right in the middle of something," she said breathlessly, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.<br />
"Well, what are you doing?" Rica persisted in her inquisitive way. They were close friends but Monte had not told her anything about her and Jon's plans. But now, feeling alone and scared, she blurted out the whole story. <br />
"You what? Jesus Monte, you mean you gave Jon ten thousand dollars?" Her friend shrieked.<br />
"Rica I did. It was three weeks ago." Monte confessed. He had a short trip to the Dakotas to take care off and then should have gotten back here but I haven't heard from him since." Monte was crying now.<br />
"What the hell are you going to do?" Rica asked.<br />
"I went to see an attorney this morning," she said and wiped her eyes. "He asked, if Jon had left anything here and right now I'm looking through some boxes he must have forgotten about."<br />
"Oh lord, Monte, you've got to call the police!"<br />
"I guess, I don't know what else to do."<br />
"Monte," Rica had said hesitating. "Listen, Steve and I were talking about him just last week and I've got to tell you this. He ran into Jon last week in a restaurant in Chicago." And pausing Rica said, "Monte, he was with a woman!"<br />
Monte's stomach lurched, her heart skipped a beat as she proclaimed, "In Chicago? No, it couldn't have been him<span style="font-size: x-small;">! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I know, that's what I said too, but Steve saw him! Monte, I know its too late to say anything now, but I've always felt uneasy around Jon. I'm sorry."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Rica, I'll call you back later." And she ran back down the basement stairs. Her hands flew through the contents of the briefcase. There were files, papers, reciepts, and letters addressed to different people. Then something else caught her eye, a black billfold, bulging with cards. Gathering everything she ran back up the stairs as another clap of thunder shook the small house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-31588053601503970582014-06-03T18:41:00.001-05:002014-06-03T18:41:43.533-05:00A Final Victory (1)<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Miss Blair, do you know anything about this man?" her attorney had asked. The blinds were partially drawn against the bright sunshine. Wisps of pollution drifted up through the open windows from the early morning traffic. Book shelves lined three walls of his office.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Monte twisted her kleenex. "Apparenty nothing I'm finding out."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"How long had you known him?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I met the man a year ago."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Did he leave anything behind that could help, letters, papers anything?" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She had sat up suddenly. "Yes he did," she replied, "in my basement!" And she left then determined and hopeful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Now back home, she studied the boxes down there with a mixture of feelings. There were four of them stacked on a shelf in a corner. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A rumble of thunder began. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Would she find something that could help her? Her emotions teetered between heartbreak and panic.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Monte Blair was in her forties and lived in Minneapolis. She had inherited some money when her parents had passed on. And she had fallen in love with Jon Saunders. He was a few years younger then her, and his charm and easy approach to life had fasinated her. He traveled in his business and lived with her when he was in town, and she excitedly planned special meals and cozy times when they had been together.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Now, he had been gone a long time, to long. Three weeks without a telephone call and she hurt like hell as she stood there in the cold damp basement. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Where is he? She agonized, as she had lost many hours of sleep worrying. The raw ache of rejection consumed her and she would lie awake at night going over what she might have done, or said that could have brought about his sudden absence and silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">And an alarm shook her insides as she thought of their business venture.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The four boxes had stood there all this time, undisturbed and out of the way. He had said they contained his deceased mother's belongings and had asked if he could leave them there for safe keeping.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A clap of thunder shook the house and Monte pulled her sweater closer around her shulders. A tinge of guilt swept through her thoughts. Maybe he's sick and alone somewhere, she thought remorsefully, again trying to find a logical reason for his actions.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">However, determined now to find some answers, she reached up for the first box and it landed on the floor with a plop. Small clouds of cement dust flew up in her face and she opened it to find it full of law books. And, inside of each book the initials J.C was written. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Who was JC? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jon Saunders had said once he had gone to law school, she recalled now, but had to quit for lack of money. Why she wondered now really.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She opened another box and here she found clothes, dirty and wrinkled, tossed in along with bathroom and desk supplies. Just junk! None of this was his mothers'. But why would he leave all this here? Monte questioned. Then the frown on her face softened suddenly at how absent minded the man could be sometimes, even careless about things. She stood up and stretched her back. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She remembered it had been December and his birthday--</span>Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-90683773147681274802014-05-12T13:36:00.000-05:002014-05-12T13:36:09.608-05:00Without my LoveAs time goes by, we learn.
We learn we can be alone, and it's
sometimes good, and sometimes not.
We learn to put our hopes on today, our
dreams are real, but we gracefully accept.
We struggle, we stumble, we grow and
we learn, that each new step in this
direction can turn.
Our days can be sunny, that
goodbyes are not final.
That love can bring both joy and sorrow, and we endure.
So, we search and we find, and nourish our souls,
and finally see what life can be-
New hope and love for eternity.
We learn.
Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (1991)Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-41140363079256374522014-04-22T10:38:00.001-05:002014-04-22T10:38:08.631-05:00Lyn Miller LaCoursiere and the Lindy Lewis Adventures<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/xuxB4TY2dB0" width="480"></iframe>Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-36934193594429583412014-04-03T10:50:00.000-05:002014-04-03T10:50:15.342-05:00A Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire)The Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire)
In my pursuit I worry though, if I find him would I remember how to share?
Would I want to share?
Knowing myself I’d probably give him a small corner in my closets for his things, with strict orders not to expect to place his trinkets around on my tables and in my cupboards.
Then too, I would expect him to have a lot of hobbies and not plan on spending all day on my couch, interfering with the décor.
Is there someone who will understand the encumbrances I carry around?
Living solos has its advantages: first of all I can cook only if I want. After years of meal planning, if I want to eat out of cartons or bake a casserole. It’s an option I celebrate with glee. If I want to clean, I can every day. If I want to be messy I can live with that and then do a monstrous overhaul when I’m in the mood.
Could this man understand that if I get bored with a certain day I just might pile into bed early and hibernate with my books?
Would he welcome me back, if on the spur of the moment I packed a bag, got in my car or on a plane and crossed the country?
He can’t be old. Has to be in good enough physical health to roguishly pursue a sexual encounter, not just in his mind, but in reality.
He has to look dashing in jeans. Shine his shoes.
How many social events and classes should I participate in?
I’ve thought about getting a job in a men’s store, but do I have enough stamina to wear those high heels again every day?
He must be well informed about worldly events. Then again, I’d have to buy and study the newspaper, and study the problems of the world. He should be curious about my thoughts and actions. Not jealous of my endeavors.
So why doesn’t he send me a cocktail while I’m sitting alone with a book in a restaurant? A dessert, when I’m in a coffee shop. Why doesn’t he approach me while I’m in a book store, or dressed to the nines pushing a grocery cart?
Have I missed something? A signal or some sign I should be wearing or using to send that message that I’m single and looking?
But you know if I married again, I’d have to buy an alarm clock, get up early in the mornings to make myself presentable and sexy, and not sit around in my nightgown for hours with my coffee. Probably, even an apron for those hours in the kitchen!
Would we have to take separate vacation to reclaim some space?
Would it all fulfill the emptiness in my soul?
So, where is that man I ask?
Well, maybe he feels like I sometimes do, and just sits around making those lists and daydreaming.
Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (ca. years ago)
Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-3105701065662682882014-02-26T11:08:00.003-06:002014-02-26T11:08:59.843-06:00Decisions My husband had lain in a deep coma for days, and even now many years later, that night is still so vivid. (I had written this around that time but it was too hard to do anything with it. So now years later I'm bravely bringing it out again this time to share. But it still brings tears but I feel this is something we all will have to go through, sooner or later with someone dear to us.)
Over the years things had been so great for us as I shopped, cooked and enjoyed the grandchildren. A sight bulge had begun to accumulate around my middle, but that could be expected at this time in life, so it was okay. Painting the house, mowing and trimming in the yard, shoveling snow, changing the oil and filling gas on the cars was done without much notice. We had settled comfortable into middle age, secure in the knowledge that we could look forwrd to retirement in a few years, to relax and travel.
But abruptly things changed when my husband got sick. Eight months later, in a hospice, after days of pain and suffering for him, anguished, I'd asked how this illness could go on for so long?
I remember the nurse exclaiming, '"they worry about having to leave their loved ones behind, so they hang on!
One evening as all the kids were still vigilant in the family room and I sat as his side, I just couldn't bear to see him suffering any more and I made a decision.
Bravely, I slipped off my shoes and crawled up on his bed. "Sweetheart, I said gathering him to me, "'It's okay, you just rest now and go to God, the kids and I will be fine." Then within minutes, as I held him close in my arms, he drew his last breath.
Over the years, then I thought I had learned to cope gracefully with the twists of fate, In fact, I became quite proud of myself for the independence I had perfected and honed; I had learned to live alone and had survived the sadness, the lonliness,and the demons of the night. I had faced the inevietable quiet day and night without end. I had prowled the house, lost sleep, drove miles aimlessly trying to find a niche to fit into. It was hard work, both emotionally and physicaly, but the solitude forced me to discover who I was, and after strugglling with the issues of self-worth, guilt, selfpreservation and acceptance. I thought I had found I could stand alone, make my own mistakes and forgive myself.
Then I made another earth shattering decision, and that was to sell my home. And thinking I'd have months to ease into the transition, I was flabbergasted when it sold the second day it was on the market. Well, suddenly heartsick at what I'd done, a week went by and I'd lain on my couch with a pillow and blanket watching soaps. I said to my friends, "I'm sick with some kind of a bug."
My eyes grew swollen, my throat sore and my voice grew hoarse as I cried. I yearned for someone to help me, to say, "yes, this is okay, you made the right decision!" I remembered as a couple how good it was as we faced decisions together, bounced ideas back and forth and the doubts were lessoned with each other's assurances. But now, I was truly on my own. I shed tears again in my lonliness. And each morning waking from a troubled sleep, my decision would hit me again like a fist in my stomach.
I'd weathered storms in my home as well, learnign how to be this new person. And it had protected me from the outside elements as well as providing a refuge as I learned how to be comfortable with my oneness.
I had decorated my bedroom in lace and frills and learned to sleep in the middle of the bed. But now a stranger would slumber in my room and hang their clothes in my closets, walk on my grass and pick my weeds out of my flower beds. In desperation, I called my attorney and asked him to please get me out of the mess I'd gotten myself into.
"My dear," he said, "I'm afraid its too late!"
Another sob tore at my throat. I couldn't do this, surely my heart would stop from the pain I had inflicted upon myself.
But being single, I'd had some adventures and taken some risks. I'd lived alone up north in the woods by a lake, where I bought and sold antiques and junk. I'd traveled to an island each year and spent weeks by myself by the ocean, and here I was, still living and breathing!
But surely, this time I had made a terribly rash decision. A horrible mistake!
Well, I guess my loving God figured I needed the time to heal. Then figuring he'd been patient and listened long enough to my whining, he gave me a sudden boost of energy.
I got up off the couch and put my pillow and blanket away, and put a smile on my face. At first it felt false, but slowly I began to feel my spirit mend. I remembered the lifestyle I had dreamed of! Well, I got rid of the snow shovel, the rakes and the lawnmower, and I waved goodbye to crab-grass and began to feel a tricke of excitement again.
The gradually I began to feel proud of myself that I'd had the courage, and then the strength to weather through another angished decision and to welcome another change in my life.
At times it still hurts to not have that built-in support system anymore, but sometimes the choice is not ours to make. I expect there will be many more decisions to make in my life, and I can only hope I will have the courage and the strength again to make a wise one. circa 1995Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5667626856326138042.post-82538747259678376612014-02-03T16:25:00.001-06:002014-02-03T16:25:49.979-06:00Today, Tomorrow and Then (page 4)Sea shells and sun lotion stood on the bedside table. Bewildered, Corey sat alone in her room.
****
In the main office of the resort the manager talked to the reservationist.
"Sue, how long will Miss Andrews in 206 be staying?"
"I'm not sure about her. Miss Eagen, but I think something is wrong!"
"Why?"
"Its so wierd, we've all gotten to know her since she's been here these two months, but sometimes she acts like we're strangers."
"Well I've seen her come and go and she seems fine to me."
"I know Miss Eagen, at times. But yesterday, she invited some of us to meet her at the bullfight. But she didn't show up. When I went to her room later to check on her, she didn't remember me."
"I'd better go and see her." And after her visit, Miss Eagen checked the records and found Corey's home address and phone number and made a long distance call.
****
Corey Andrews was sitting in the resort's restaurant having a leasurely lunch when she heard familiar voices. Looking up she saw her family; Her three son's and her daughter coming in the door.
"What a pleasant surprise, but what are you all doing here?" She asked momentarily startled.
"Mom, you've been gone so long," Val said and Jeff the youngest, picked a French fry off her plate.
The kids bravely covered their worried faces, and another said, "we missed you Mom, so we've come to take you home.
For Corey and her kids now, they had today, hopefully tomorrow and then--
-Lyn LaCoursiere
Lyn Miller Lacoursierehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06680134735011342030noreply@blogger.com0