WHO ARE YOU GONNA CALL?

elevator-panel

We were going out to lunch, so we got on the elevator on the fifth floor, and I pushed G.

The door closed and the lights flickered. Was that an uncharacteristic bump?

“Did you feel that?” I asked.

Evidently, he didn’t.

We began the slow descent. When we stopped, we waited for the door to open.

We’re used to a pause so we waited a little longer.

Nothing.

I pushed  elevator-door

Nothing.

I looked at the floor indicator. It read  elevator-1

I pushed elevator-g  again.

Nothing.

“I’ll call Bob,” he said. “and ask him to go back out and push the button. Maybe we’ll go back  up to five.” (Bob’s a neighbor we had been talking to just before we got on the elevator.)

Except he didn’t have Bob’s phone number.

“If we push HELP, the guys from the fire station across the street will answer,” I said. (I know that because I accidentally pushed it with one of the bags I was loaded down with one day.

elevator-help

“No, I’ll call Phil,” he said. “I just saw them downstairs. Maybe he’s still here or has Bob’s number.”

Except Phil was already on the road headed home, and he didn’t have Bob’s number.

“I can push HELP,” I said.

He just  looked at me.

“Do you have Deborah’s number?” I asked. (She’s our maintenance person.)

“I do. Good idea.”

He called Deborah, and said she would reset the elevator’s program.

It wasn’t long until we began a slow descent. When we stopped, the door slid open and we got off. I moved quicker than usual.

“I want to put her number in my phone,” I said.

Just as I finished, Deborah came down the stairs and said, “The power went off for just a moment. Sometimes it affects the elevator, but I reset it.”

We thanked her and went on our way to lunch.

Now I have two options.

If I can’t reach Deborah, I can push the HELP button. Those firefighters across the street are real nice. I talked to them one day.

Who do you call when you need help?

elevator-help2

“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.

Psalm 91:14-16

 

 

 

Almost Wordless Wednesday

The Famous Garnet Ring
 
What once was lost, now is found.
 
“Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’” 
Luke 15:8-9
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you their Hallmark-worthy story.

Life Happens

           

 

April is Poetry month. An entire month set aside to encourage us to not only read poetry but to also try writing our own verse. My original plan was to join my friends in writing some sort of poem each day. On April 1, I had just taken pen in hand and opened my notebook when the call came.
            “I’m worried about her,” our aunt’s helper said. “She doesn’t feel good.”

            For the second day in a row, I dressed and drove the ten minutes to her apartment where I found our lovely relative dressed for the day, sitting in her recliner, but looking weary.
 
            “I heard you weren’t feeling good today.” I said. “I thought we might check with the doctor.”

            “I’m just a little tired. I think I’ll go down and see if I can eat a little lunch,” she replied, ignoring my reference to doctor.

            I called my nurse sister-in-law, and we decided to honor her wishes. After all she was going to the doctor on Thursday, so I hung around and we talked of this and that.

            At noon, I walked her to the dining room before taking off to do some errands. When I returned later, I found her sitting alone in the empty dining area where she had nodded off to sleep right there in her chair.

            “Are you ready to go back to your apartment,” I asked.

            Roused by my voice, she replied with a sheepish smile, “Guess I’d sleep better in my own place.”

           We plodded back to the apartment where she plopped down in that worn recliner with a sigh.

            “Getting old sure is tiresome. I can’t believe I’m the last one.”

            The rest of the afternoon I searched for the garnet ring that “my husband” (our Uncle Chet) “had specially made for me.” It disappears from time to time as does her wedding ring, which I found in the process.  I hope the garnet turns up soon. It always has before.

            I started this poem that evening, but as you can see I’m a bit behind.

                           Life Happens
We make our plans, but sometimes life happens.
Interruptions destroy our finely orchestrated schedules.
A day I thought belonged to me unravels with a simple call.
I go and find her looking “all in” as my mother used to say, 
Yet she insists, “I’m just a little tired.”
At 98 years and four months, she soldiers on,
earthly dwelling, structurally unsound,
Supported by an aluminum walker and sheer grit.
Most of her day, she sits in her chair, watching TV or
Regaling visitors with memories. “Did I ever tell you …”
I think of how someday I may be tethered to a walker and chair,
And I listen as if I’ve never heard that story before.

Is there someone who would love to hear the sound of your voice? Why not call or better yet, pay a visit. 

 
Even to your old age, I am He, And even to gray hairs I will carry you!
I have made, and I will bear; Even I will carry, and will deliver you. Isaiah 46:4