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the-notes-concluded
  • Jason Stadtlander

The Music of Our Lives (The Notes – Concluded)
The Music of Our Lives (The Notes – Concluded) 2048 1365 Jason Stadtlander

 

The following is Part 2 of “The Notes”

Michael spent hours playing hide and seek with Kasmira, which proved to be a challenge once he had finished looking for her and couldn’t find her. For she could not hear him shout “I give up! Where are you?”

Kasmira’s mother came in the second time he gave up looking for her. “I don’t know where she is, but she can’t hear me call for her.” The little boy told the woman.

Her mother smiled and stamped her feet slowly three times on the floor, so hard that glasses tumbled inside the china cabinet. A moment later, Kasmira came down the stairs, a broad smile on her face. Then her mother held out one arm as if to say “There she is!”

Michael smiled. “That’s how she knew right where I was! She could feel my feet moving closer or farther away!”

Kasmira’s mother laughed, “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah. How come she can feel me, but I can’t feel her?”

“Well, two reasons. First, you probably could if you tried. Kasie has worked very hard to feel all the vibrations around her. When you are missing something, the body finds a way to compensate and enhance other senses. Second, she has learned to walk very quietly so that her vibrations don’t interfere with other vibrations.”

Michael nodded his head. “Huh.”

Within a few weeks, the two became good friends, spending time with each other any time they could. Kasmira was happy to have someone she could spend time with and Michael enjoyed learning sign language and getting to know her world. It was about this time that Kasie began speech lessons. She spent hours working with speech therapists and learning to make sounds with her vocal cords. Initially, her sounds did not sound like anything but noise to Michael. However, over time she learned to tighten her vocal cords and mimic the vibrations in her throat that she felt in other people’s throats. Michael helped Kasie by slowly, loudly saying words as she felt his neck, and then she would try to mimic his lips and his vibrations.

“Can’t she have her ears fixed?”  Michael asked her mother at one point.

“No, she was born with labyrinthine aplasia, a condition where she is missing her inner ear, the part that we hear sound with. Someday, perhaps they will find a way to help her hear. She does have the nerves there to hear, but she is lacking the inner ear to transmit the signals to that nerve.”

“Well, I think she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” the boy stated.

##

It had been twenty-nine years since that day at Kasmira’s house when Michael had professed his friendship for the small girl that now lay here as a woman. And here he sat, staring at that same girl. Kasmira still had the long auburn hair clear down to her waist, though at the moment it was tied up in a bun. She was wearing a hospital gown and looked at her husband of ten years and their two children who were about the same age as she and Michael were when they met. Her best friend and fellow dancer, Carrie was also in the hospital room. Carrie looked Kasie in the eyes, “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. They do these procedures all the time. And when you get out, you will finally be able to hear my voice.”

In her muddled, hollow-sounding voice, Kasie replied, “Thank you. I can’t wait to hear it.” she then looked at Michael. “I love you, sweetheart.” then to her children, “You are both my everything.” she smiled.

Both the children jumped up and gave her a hug, followed by Michael giving her a hug.

A nurse came in and spoke with the family and then wheeled Kasie’s bed out of the room toward the O.R..

Michael looked on as they wheeled her down the hall. He saw her hands come up above the bed and sign “I’ll be right back.”, an inside saying between them whenever they had to be away from each other. A tear rolled down his cheek and he hugged their children then slowly walked back to the waiting room with them.

Three hours later the doctor came into the waiting room, “Michael ?”

“Yes?” Michael got up as did the children and Carrie.

“I’m sorry, initially only the family is allowed in the recovery room, but you’ll be able to come shortly.” the doctor told Carrie. “Your wife is in recovery, I’m sure she’d enjoy seeing you when she wakes up. Follow me.”

As Kasie’s eyes opened slowly, she saw Michael and her daughter Elizabeth and her son Matt looking at her. She smiled and said “Hi.” in her muddled voice. She saw Michael’s lips say “Hello beautiful. How are the drugs?”

She laughed, “Very strong.”

The doctor walked over to them and look directly at Kasie so she could read his lips. “The surgery went very well. As I stated earlier, we’re going to wait until the incisions around the implant heal. We should be able to turn on the implants in about four weeks.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Kasie said.

The family spent another hour waiting for Kasie to come completely out of her stupor and then she was wheeled out to the car, still groggy. “Are mommy’s ears turned on?” Matt asked.

“No, not yet. Her implants need to heal first, then she will get to hear us.”

What felt like months, but in actuality was only three weeks, the whole family sat at the doctor’s office waiting for some news. The doctor finally walked back into the room. “Well Kasie, how would you like to hear today? The healing has gone very well and I think it’s safe to give it a try if you’re willing?”

Kasie eagerly nodded her head, nervous. The doctor showed her how to attach a long cable with a magnet on the end to the spot where her implant interfaced under the skin. Kasie felt a light tap as it magnetically attached. “Ok, let’s give this a try. I’m going to start very low and see if you can hear a beep.”

Kasie said nothing and just looked on anxiously as the doctor pressed a button on his keyboard. Kasie’s eyes grew wide as her brain processed something it had never experienced before. A low-tone beep. The doctor turned off the beep and pressed another button. He then looked at her children and Jack and nodded. Elizabeth said, “Mommy? Can you hear me?”

Kasie’s hand went to her mouth and she laughed and quickly the laugh became a cry. Tears rolled down her face. “Sweetie? You can hear us?” Michael asked, tears rolling down his own face. Kasie nodded hard and cried even more, then hugged him.

“Why is mommy crying?” Matt asked, “Does it hurt?”

“No sweetie, she’s just overwhelmed with happiness. She can finally hear us.”

To be human is to be Damaged
  • Jason Stadtlander

To Be Human Is To be Damaged
To Be Human Is To be Damaged 5120 2880 Jason Stadtlander

When I write a story and create a protagonist, it’s easy to create a hero. Someone flawless that comes sweeping in to save the day with superpowers or a methodical detective that can solve any case. But, readers don’t fall in love with the flawless. We can’t relate to that. It wasn’t the fact that superman could fly across the world in a minute or pick up an entire building that made him alluring. It was his vulnerabilities. The fact that kryptonite could damage him or his heart could be broken by Louis Lane. There isn’t a superhero (or a super villain) out there who didn’t have a flaw.

We need those flaws. We have those flaws. Every single one of us. True, small children likely have fewer flaws, but it is part of human growth – part of growing up to accumulate these flaws. The older I get, the more I realize that we are all damaged, all of us. It is how we choose to embrace our damage, understand what is under our own skin and use it to better ourselves rather than allow it to rot us – that truly defines who we are and how we connect with others.

Those who claim they are not damaged have simply not come face to face with their own damage and have not come to understand what that damage is.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that the damage is necessarily something catastrophic. It could be something as small as a bullying incident early in your life that causes an unknown level of anxiety or a fall when you were a child that you forgot about that causes a fear of heights. Damage is damage. Coming to terms with our own damage (in public or in private) is extremely important, and it really is the only way to move forward in life. There are some people I know that wear their damage on their face but have never come to terms with it and may live their entire life without ever understanding it themselves. Yet, others I know finally came to terms with their damage when they were in their 80s and 90s. We all live life on our terms, and we all live through our damage on our own terms.

The most important element to gain from this is that our damage is key. It makes us interesting, unique, often relatable, and sometimes holds us back. When you walk down the street and look at that person in the crowd that seems so well put together and overconfident. Just know, it’s only a face they are wearing, and they may just be better at hiding their damage. Show a little love and help where you can.

The Little Boy - Jason Stadtlander
  • Jason Stadtlander

The Little Boy
The Little Boy 600 400 Jason Stadtlander

A little boy sits on the plush carpet of the warm house, playing with his plastic dinosaurs, one T-Rex battles a brontosaur and of course, the T-Rex wins. A pterodactyl swoops in and attacks the T-Rex, dropping a rock on him from high above and saving the brontosaur. “Bam!” the little boy says excitedly, giggling with the innocent laughter that only a small child can elicit.

A young father sits in his recliner, reading the newspaper, glancing down at his small boy playing and he smiles, then goes back to the classified section to continue his job hunt, so that he can continue to give that little boy a warm home to play dinosaurs in.

Not many years later, that little boy tells the father how much he hates him for the rules that he locks him down with and in haste, leaves the warm home, breaking the heart of the man who looked down at the little boy on the carpet playing with his dinosaurs. The father can’t understand how the little boy went from the pure child on the carpet with the soft laughter to the teen whose anger has consumed him.

Some time passes and the boy has made a few more steps down the wrong road and is sitting on the curb outside of the apartment he was just evicted from with three boxes sitting next to him, his life possessions. He reaches into the box and pulls out a plastic pterodactyl and a T-Rex and he wishes secretly to himself that he could fly away on the plastic dinosaur. The boy thinks about how last night he came so close to taking his own life in his depressed fog. Somehow, something stayed his hand but only he knew how close he came. These thoughts flow through his mind as a car pulls up the curb. The passenger window rolls down and the father smiles from the driver’s seat and gets out. Picking up the boxes and placing them in the back of the car, the father scoops up his little boy and helps him into the passenger seat.

More years pass and the boy finds himself sitting beside the bed in the warm house he grew up in, holding his father’s hand. He tells his father that he is sorry for how he treated him years ago and how much he loves him. His father smiles and squeezes the boy’s hand telling him simply “I know you love me, I’ve always known, even when you didn’t know.” as the father takes his last breath.

In grief, the boy sits on a folding chair by the stone which bears his father’s name, and sets his plastic T-Rex and pterodactyl on the top of the stone, then puts his face in his own hands and cries silently. While sitting at the stone, he feels a hand touch him and turns around to see his small boy’s hand on his shoulder. The boy, now a father, smiles as a few tears stream down his face and he picks up the T-Rex and pterodactyl, handing them to the little boy who takes them with his own innocent smile.

In a warm house, the little boy sits on the carpet and plays with the pterodactyl and T-Rex as the man sits in a recliner reading the news and smiling down at the little boy on the carpet, playing dinosaurs.
  • Jason Stadtlander

Does God Exist? One Man’s Journey into his Existence
Does God Exist? One Man’s Journey into his Existence 1610 805 Jason Stadtlander

It’s going to sound like I’m getting religious here, but I’m not. What I am writing is not about religion at all, but it is about faith. And regardless of what belief you have, you have faith, even if it’s faith in nothing. So bear with me.

As I sit, staring out the windows at the clouds as they move across the sky, now working from home thanks to COVID-19. This day is unique, it is new, unblemished and a chance for a million possibilities,  The same as the day before and the day before that and the day before that.

These same thoughts have gone through my head for the last year, two years, five years, ten years, even twenty years. What is my purpose? What is the point of this daily routine and this repetitive day? Perhaps these are questions that will always haunt me.

I have a purpose. I am a colleague, a father, a son, a friend, and a husband. But that does not define me, each are merely hats that I wear at one time or another. The core of what I am, my heart – and I don’t mean the organ that pumps in my chest, I mean that which is deep in my brain – that which gives me sentience and brings my soul to fruition, that is what I am. That inner part of me is my constant struggle, my constant companion, and my constant enemy.

It is that which drives me to seek an understanding of God and what part He plays in my life if any part at all.

I know, some of you are saying to yourself, “There is no God. It’s ridiculous to think that some higher being created everything and that we just evolved to what we are.”

Believe me, no one knows better than I do, how you feel. I refused to believe that there could be some omnipotent creature sitting upon some throne, cloud, whatever, staring down at us and seeing us as nothing more than a pet. I have always considered myself a man of science, requiring theory, proof, and evidence to show empirically that something is, or something is not.

But that all changed for me on a beautiful Saturday on Memorial Day weekend in 2005. Before that day, I was a man who did not truly believe in God. Who felt that true belief in God was nothing but a fictitious figment of the imagination of a people who have no faith in themselves, so they must create something that makes them whole and has a purpose. That fateful day I became a man who knew without a doubt that there was a God, a creator, and a higher consciousness that drives everything around us.

On that fateful day, a baby was born, a person that was half of me. I held that baby boy in my arms, stared down at him for minutes, hours, unable to take my eyes off of him.

And here it was, in my arms, eyes closed, sleeping soundly, breathing in and breathing out. A tiny heart beating deep inside. Another person has come into this world through my own DNA. That something so complex as an entire human being can come into existence from two cells dividing and multiplying and create bones, blood, organs, a brain. This was it, this was the empirical evidence that I had been looking for to prove to me that there was a God.

Yes, I know biology, I know chemistry, physics… But this transcended them all. I knew from that point forward that I could no longer ever look at either of my little boys and not know in the very core of what I am that there was a God.

Now, does that mean that I pulled the Bible out of the drawer next to me and slammed myself up on the forehead, and said “Praise the Lord, Jesus is risen!” Um, no. On the contrary, knowing that God exists is just a first step and a massive one at that, I might add.

In coming to this realization, I was however forced to ask myself one other question; If I was wrong about God and I now know that without a doubt there is God, what else could I be wrong about?

I started studying the Bible, the Torah, the Qur’an, everything – to try and grasp a better understanding of what everyone else around me has seemed to see that I could not. I would like to say that I did process it all and suddenly had the epiphany that everything now made sense… but that is not the case. It simply confused me more. It’s one thing to know what the bible and all religious texts say, it’s something altogether different to feel what they say.

So began my exploration of my own faith and my own internal struggle to understand things around me. Do I pray? Yes, but not all the time. Do I still believe in God? Absolutely. Do I believe that Jesus is our savior? That he died on that cross to save us from our sin? I’d be lying if I said yes I do believe all of that with all my heart. My faith is a journey.

But what really makes me different than I used to be, is that I can sincerely say that I’m not willing to rule it out. When it comes to Jesus, I don’t believe He is not. Did he exist, yes? I believe that fully. There is too much historical evidence. Do I believe he is the savior of mankind? The jury is still out (for me). Unfortunately, that evidentiary proof has been harder to come by than my belief in God. For me, it would require evidence other than that fabricated by man (i.e. books).

To me, God is not a man who sits high in the heavens and looks down upon us, and points us to go in one direction or another. I believe that to do that would negate the point of free will, and free will defines us. There is a logic to our world. The fact that you can take two atoms of hydrogen and a single atom of oxygen to create water, and the fact that it is the interaction of electrons that bind these elements together is science. But why do these electrons bond? Why do elements have electrons? What force created it to do so? Scientists will claim that it is just a case of electrons interacting with one another, but even that is faith. Faith that science is as it has been proven or faith that nature just works that way. One must have faith that things ‘just are’ that way. Can you really tell me that there is no intelligence at work in the creation of such things?

Even Einstein once said

“Every one who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that a spirit is manifest in the laws of the Universe-a spirit vastly superior to that of man, and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble.”

The Bible doesn’t ever use the term ‘science’ because it did not exist at the time the bible was written, but Proverbs 25:2 states:

“It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings is to search things out.”

What I do know, without a doubt is that there is a God. That the fog that rises from the fresh-cut grass is more than just a collection of molecules. That the trees and plants are more than just a collection of well-grouped cells, that music is more than just a repetitive pattern that is pleasing to the ear, and that real love cannot be defined by any words.

Until then, I will seek to understand. I will reach to be more and I will dig down deeper to understand my soul and my own existence. I do not know how deep human faith goes, what powers it or if there is ever a point that it is complete, but the comprehension of my existence and our existence is a journey. And I will do my best to continue to explore it with open eyes and an open heart.

beyond-existence
  • Jason Stadtlander

Beyond the Existence
Beyond the Existence 1920 1080 Jason Stadtlander

One cold and bitter day, as the skies choked with clouds high above in a blanket so thick barely light could penetrate it, a small Neusahofu emerged from its shiny rainbow chrysalis. A tiny sliver of light broke through the thick clouds above the little cocoon and shined a pinpoint of light on the small creature. Although it had no idea, it was one of the most beautiful creatures in all the universe, pure of heart and shimmering with a pale violet skin that luminesced. It smelled fresh and clean, like a spring day unwrapping from the frigid, pale fingers of winter. Arms, opening to a soft glow that encompassed anyone that came within close proximity to it. But, there was no one to come close to it. In fact, there was no one at all… The Neusahofu was a female and the first of its kind, singular in beauty and mind – the embodiment of peace and the mortal form of radiance. She had perfect proportionate legs, arms, and torso, ultimate beauty in flawless symmetry. The female had no hair, but had two eyes and a perfect nose, with a head that pointed upward in the back to a nicely rounded cone.

She stretched her tiny arms out wide and looked all around her, basking in the singular ray of sunshine that had broken through the clouds. The Neusahofu looked high into the sky and saw the tormenting clouds that went as far as the eye could see, all the way to the red mountains in the distance. She looked down at the cold, frost-covered ground and at her colorful chrysalis that remained, splay open, having provided its one purpose in existence, that of a private home for this beautiful creature while she was nurtured. Her heart was pure beyond anything that had ever existed, it knew only love and peace. She looked down at her small hands, five fingers on each, and the light that flowed through her skin ebbed with her heartbeat, carrying small filaments of radiance out to the tips of her fingers where they dissipated.

The Neusahofu bent down, looking at the frost-covered ground and gently touched the frost then pulled her hand away when a spark flew from her hand to the ground. The ground itself illuminated in a small radius around her and the frost quickly melted. The ground came alive with a beautiful yellow-green grass that grew rapidly before her eyes all around her until it was an inch and a half tall. She touched it gently and felt as if a hundred small fingers touched her in return, soft and subtle. She gently petted it and felt the warmth of the tiny plants beneath her hand.

Standing up, she walked over to a stone surrounded by frosty ground, bending down she touched it gently and looked on as it illuminated from the inside out. The light flowed outward from the stone, lighting the ground as it had lit where she touched the ground before. The stone cracked with an audible ‘pop’ and broke open to show another rainbow shimmering chrysalis that resembled the one she had emerged from. Stepping back she cocked her head to the side, staring at it, curious as the light pulsated and the chrysalis beat as if a heart were contained within it. The Neusahofu moved up closer, knelt down, and gently touched it with her long delicate fingers, and felt the beating cocoon, it was warm to the touch. She sat cross-legged in front of it and began to hum sweetly until the cocoon finally stopped beating and instead began to push outward in jagged points as if something were pushing from the inside. Again, she cocked her head to the side and this time made a quiet chittering sound, petting the chrysalis to soothe it.

The surface broke on the thin rainbow membrane and an arm similar to hers poked through, then a hand grabbed the edges within and the creature inside forced its way out. It slowly opened its eyes and blinked with bright blue shinning orbs at the girl. She blinked back, chittered, and smiled. The other Neusahofu smiled back and stood, tall, nearly three inches taller than her, it was clearly male and had a strong body. It stepped out of the cocoon and held out its hand to which the girl took. The two chittered back and forth for a moment then stopped. She looked at him, knew him. She had in fact known him for a very long time. Then thought to herself, “Where have you been? How do I know you? Where are we?”

She then heard his voice in her mind, “Do you not remember? Can’t you recall what happened before we were here?”

She looked down, probed her memories hard but couldn’t remember. Then looking up she shook her head gently.

“It’s me, my love. We knew each other on Earth. We have been with each other all our lives… Soul mates. I held your hand when you were young, told you I would care for you as we grew old together and in the end, you held my hand as I passed on.”

As he spoke those words, a flood of memories came back to her. She saw the two of them playing as children, chasing a balloon and later standing at an alter before all of their friends and family. She saw herself sitting in an Adirondack chair sitting on his lap as children played down by the pond in the early morning, and later holding a grandchild on her lap. She saw him helping her when she dropped her blanket on the floor in the den by the fire and saw herself sitting on the hospital bed where he lay dying. She remembered curling up next to him as his life seeped out of him but could not remember anything after that. “I remember…” she said.

“I remember it all, but the end.” She replied, a bit confused.

“In the end my love, you died as well. We have been so connected for so long, one half can’t live without the other.”

“Where are we now then?”

They looked around them. The skies had broken to reveal a new violet sky with crimson clouds. A huge dark grey moon lay just behind the clouds with a white sun on the other side of the sky. Giant birds swept the sky with tails so long they flowed on winds. The air flowed over the landscape causing a faint hum as it whistled over the eroded plains and the clouds blew by in a fury, yet the air around the two Neusahofus remained still. “I don’t know.” He replied, “I suppose this is what lies beyond our existence.”

They had no way of knowing that they had been chosen by a higher power to usher in a new life on a planet far from where they came. No way of knowing that their souls are like all other souls in the universe. Part of a compendium of life that exists on a plane of existence that connects everyone in every far and distant reach of the universe. A singular dimension of life that is linked, forever part of one another yet apart, taking in everything they learn, feel, and experience to be part of the greater whole.

For beyond the truth of existence are those connected through emotions that cannot be defined with words. Soul-mates.
  • Jason Stadtlander

Give Me a Reason to be Here
Give Me a Reason to be Here 1200 630 Jason Stadtlander

We all go through our daily struggles. For some, it’s a ritual, something they enjoy and count on the unaltered solidity of the habits they’ve formed. While for others it’s a routine, a cycle that they have been thrown into by the circumstances of life, a pattern they are displeased with but stuck in none-the-less, cognoscente that a lot of other people have it worse than they do. Some of us have a complete lack of routine, be it by choice or simply because our daily life or job doesn’t allow for a regular routine.

Regardless of how your daily routine normally goes, you do it because it gives you a purpose, a reason to get up every morning and continue to be a part of society or simply be a part of someone’s life. It is the naked truth of humanity and one of our defining characteristics; we need a reason to be here. Sadly, it is when someone either feels they have outgrown their reason or their “reason to be” does not fit the purpose they feel that they were put here for, that drives people into depression, hopelessness, or worse.

So many times, I have sat the train here in the Boston area and I could not help but look around at all my fellow Bostonians, making their way here and there. Some of them have a light in their eye and a clear reason for their daily grind. A man reading the Wall Street Journal preparing for his day at his investment company, a woman working on her presentation that she needs to give later today and a slew of people trying to find a way to relax – reading a book, a newspaper, or playing a game on their phone, iPad or kindle.

Once in a while you see someone with that empty look, the look of someone who has reached the end of what they feel is their purpose, especially in much of the elderly. Or walking along the street, you see a man or woman huddled up in one of those recycled blankets along the side of a building with a used coffee cup sitting in front of them. The look of hope gone, no longer even living, simply – existing, consuming air, water, and sometimes food. I look at them and I want to comfort them, give them a purpose and a reason to keep going. Unfortunately, it is something that cannot easily be done.

A Purpose for our older family members and friends

In many cultures the older family members are still a strong part of home life, however – here in America, when it comes to our older adults I think we are missing a critical piece of our societal puzzle. So many older adults are dismissed, thrown into a home, or ignored.  Historically, the older adults always lived in the family home and took care of the kids while the middle-aged children worked. They told stories and passed on the history of the family. With the division of families and people being spread over great distances it has made it much harder for them to offer their traditional contribution. What some people might not consider though is that the internet provides a means for the elderly to maintain this glue, they just need to be taught how to do so. How to do something as simple as writing an email or passing on pictures.

Connecting in COVID times

Take this a step further and we can see how easy it is to dismiss one another or feel even more disconnected in a time when most of us are required to stay at home, social distance, or telework. Don’t forget that our aging family members are all still out there, desperately wanting to connect with us and often living by themselves or with no other companionship than their pet. It is critical, now more than ever before to connect – Zoom, call, and visit safely when possible. Some day, you will be the one sitting around, hoping that someone comes and spends time with you. You’ll have stories to tell and life experiences to dispense and you will be yearning for someone, anyone, to just listen to you and spend time with you.

Show those in your life how much they count and reach out to those that might not have anyone else in their lives. Because they may be going through something and need you and you won’t even know until it’s too late unless you talk to them now.

a-thirst-quenched-jason-stadtlander
  • Jason Stadtlander

A Thirst Quenched
A Thirst Quenched 2560 1678 Jason Stadtlander

The thirst, the endless, desiccated thirst
The pain of the heart, arid and unquenched, not beating
Void of that camaraderie that it requires
The loneliness that fills the void is like air within a canyon
It is space filled but without substance
The depth of isolation that can be reached by no other means than seclusion
No emotions for oneself and empty within
It is not depression as much as a missing piece of an incomplete puzzle

Then there falls that first drop of rain
That sight of her beauty
Eyes that stare back with an impossible warmth
A connection
Another drop
A link
Another drop, another drop
The contours of the puzzle piece perfectly shaped
Another drop, another drop, another drop
Each, space, each thought, ideal

Now a trickle, it gently flows, slowly to every dry tributary
Drop after drop after drop
A trickle becomes a stream
The intellect, the conversation, the humor
A stream gains momentum as it flows gently from one branch to another
The hands, delicate hands, the touch
A stream becomes a shallow river feeding point after point
A beat
A small devil smiling at me.

The lips, those precious lips, delicate and smooth
Another beat
The voice, soft, accented, beautiful
Another beat, Another beat
The flow becomes stronger a gush as the river flows faster
Beat, Beat, Beat, Beat
Her thoughts fascinate me, Her movements mesmerize me

I am alive
  • Jason Stadtlander

Final Moments – Step Back
Final Moments – Step Back 620 310 Jason Stadtlander

Michael lay with his head on the soft, down pillow as he watched his wife’s chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom under the old, cotton nightgown. This ancient familiar warmth had given him the strength to start his day for the last sixty-six years. His eyes moved down toward her legs, which were covered under the white knitted blanket. Her old hands with skin now so thin that the form of every vein, ligament, and bone shown through them as they lay upon the cover. He could hear birds outside the open window but did not want to look toward it, did not want to take his eyes from the view before him. Slowly, he turned his head upward and looked at her face, asleep, so peaceful.

Her white hair flowed down and around the edges of her face, framing it in ethereal beauty. Her flawless skin made her appear twenty years younger, despite the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. When she smiled, the lines disappeared, and the room was filled with light.
She wasn’t smiling now, just sleeping, softly sleeping.

He thought back to last week as they sat at dinner when she smiled at him before she passed out, and the pain struck him.

Step back, it was her birthday as she blew out the candles with the number “88” on the cake.

Step back, the boat ride on Lake Erie with their grandson and two great-grandchildren. Michael held Beth’s hand and sat as the wind blew their white hair, filled with the smell of the lake.

Step back, their fiftieth anniversary as they sat at the restaurant, surrounded by friends and family. So many people that had touched their lives over the years together, standing tall despite the odds.

Step back, in the shade of the trees, as they walked through the park, pushing their grandson in his stroller, autumn freshly fallen and the leaves blowing in small vortices around them.

Step back, the nightmare he had awoken to, his daughter, Jennie dying in a car accident as she drove along the coast. But it wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Beth had held him as he cried, and in turn, he had cradled her as she cried, her sobs shaking his shoulder.
Step back, their grandson had come into the world, and Beth sat in the hospital room chair holding the newborn baby boy, his soft, perfect skin, and an entire life before him.

Step back, Jennie was walking down the aisle and Michael, as nervous as the day that he lifted his own bride’s veil years ago – gave Jennie’s hand to her new husband, Robert.

Step back, Jennie introduced Robert to her mother and father on the front porch as Michael stood with his shotgun in hand, always the dramatic flair. Robert had taken one look at the gun and stepped back. Beth then grabbed the gun from Michael and pumped the gun, opening the chamber and showing it was not loaded but merely a scare tactic.

Step back, Jennie handed a hand-made ornament that she had created for her father in second grade. Her long golden hair cascading down her shoulders as she smiled with great anticipation as he opened the tissue wrapped ornament.

Step back, Beth handed Michael their newborn daughter. He took the swaddled baby and gently cradling it in his arms, feeling alien to the idea of holding a child. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He had said. “Next to you, of course.” He had quickly added.
Step back, Michael adjusted his bowtie. So nervous, that his hands were shaking. He had been madly in love with Beth since he was 17, and now, here he stood in the room adjacent to the sanctuary, about to take her hand in marriage. “Dear God, please help me to follow your guidance. Help me to protect and love her for the rest of my life.”

At the altar, he had lifted her veil and kissed her. Beth had whispered in his ear, “Will you love me for the rest of my life?” to which he had replied, “For all of your life and a day, my love.”

Back in the present, the warm bedclothes wrapped Michael in a cocoon of warmth, yet a chill ran up his spine. He reached his hand out and touched Beth’s face. She opened her bright blue eyes and looked at him, a flash of sorrow in her eyes as she felt her body failing her. Beth looked into her husband’s eyes, “It’s time.” She said.

Michael nodded and petted her hair. “Shh, I know. It’s okay.” He whispered.

“Will you love me for the rest of my life?” she asked, as she had asked thousands of times over their years together. He shook his head gently as a single tear streamed down his face, and his lips trembled.

“No. I’ll love you for the rest of mine, and a day.” He replied and wrapped his arms around her as she took her last breath.
Michael lay there for an hour, unable to move, just holding Beth in his arms, sobbing.

jack-and-elaine-lost
  • Jason Stadtlander

Jack and Elaine – Lost
Jack and Elaine – Lost 764 432 Jason Stadtlander

Every year the county fair fell around Elaine’s birthday making it the perfect birthday gift. Her friend Jack and his family would be joining Elaine and her parents this year. She would finally be able to share the collection of wonder and amazement that she loved so much. Perhaps she could even get her parents to try and get her a prize at one of the many carnival games – something her parents never seemed to give in to. Elaine salivated at the thought of the delicious food and rides as they danced in her head.

This year she read in the newspaper about a giant pumpkin that won grand prize; 1,260 pounds. It was hard to imagine how big that must be and Elaine was very excited to see it, moving it to the top of her ‘must see list’. She loved the animals, dog shows and frozen bananas which for some reason always tasted better in the crisp autumn air of the fair.

Sitting in her father’s minivan as they entered the gate she wore a grin from ear to ear as did Jack sitting next to her. They parked the van and she and Jack leaped out. Even from out here, the smell of French fries, fried dough and Italian sausage were overwhelming, instantly making Elaine hungry. Within two minutes, she convinced her parents to stop at the first few games – throwing darts at balloons and winning her a stuffed pig and some large fake dollar bills. She was having a blast!

Jack and his parents headed for the restroom, while she and her family made their way toward the giant pumpkin in the Fruits and Vegetable hall, weaving their way through the crowds of people. Elaine held her piggy in one hand and dollar bills in the other. Someone bumped into her and a few of the massive dollar bills fell out of her hand. She grabbed at them as they started to blow away. Elaine ran after it for about thirty feet and caught it, then stood up to rejoin her parents but they weren’t in front of her. They had not seen her stop and kept walking. Panic set in, she looked to the right, then to the left. Suddenly she felt very small, a little girl surrounded by a towering, moving mass of people. She dropped a dollar bill, she quickly grabbed it, she suddenly felt like it meant everything that she not lose what her mommy and daddy won her. She grabbed it and squeezed it and her stuffed piggy tightly, standing alone in the crowd as it ebbed and flowed around her in a frightening blaze. For a fleeting moment she saw her mother, then realized it was a woman with similar hair but not her mother. The woman looked at her and saw the fear in Elaine’s eyes, looked away and paused; tapping the man on the shoulder next to her she looked back again. She came back to Elaine and knelt down.

“Sweetie, are you lost?”

Elaine’s blue eyes filled with tears and she nodded, squeezing the pink stuffed animal tighter. She didn’t say anything to the woman because she was told to never talk to strangers, but she was so scared she didn’t know what to do.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked her.

“Elaine.” She replied, trembling.

“Elaine, I’m Julie, this is Nevin. Are you here with your parents?”

She nodded.

“Where did you see your parents last?”

She said nothing, though she wanted to tell them that she had seen them at the entrance to the building.

“It’s okay, we’ll help you find them.”

Elain began, “We were going to the giant pumpkin and then…” she looked around nervously.

“Julie, the lost children’s booth is just around the corner. Let’s take her over there.” Nevin said to the woman.

Julie looked at the small red head who was trembling, she put her hand gently on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’re going to help you find your parents. Okay?”

Elaine nodded, feeling the world spinning, her heart racing and uncertain.

Walking towards the lost children’s booth, Nevin spotted a police officer and walked over to him, explaining the situation. He looked down at Elaine and smiled, “Elaine, I’m Officer Tom. Your parents are looking for you. Will you come with me?”

Elaine squeezed Julie’s hand. Julie bent down, “It’s okay. He’s a policeman. He’ll help you find your mommy and daddy, okay?” and she softly passed Elaine’s hand over to Officer Tom.

The two walked to the lost children’s booth, but her parents weren’t there. For thirty minutes she sat at a small chair at a table, playing with a puzzle with her right hand, gripping piggy tightly with her left hand. She tried to act like she wasn’t scared, but the fear was overpowering. Officer Tom talked to her and told her about his own little boy. “I remember a time when I lost my son when he was three. We were at a really big store that sold coats. He was really scared, but we were scared too. You’re parents already checked in here and they went back to go see if they could find you. They’ll be back soon.”

Finally, her father showed up at the door to the booth and the police officer greeted him. “She was found over near the entrance to the picnic area.”

“Oh god Elaine! We were so scared!” He bent down and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arms and legs around her father and for the first time let go of the piggy and started to cry, relieved to have found her parents.

Checkout Jack and Elaine’s other adventures

love-is-jason-stadtlander
  • Jason Stadtlander

Love is…
Love is… 1074 600 Jason Stadtlander

“All You Need Is Love”, Five silly words from a Beatles song, so cliche yet so apt.

Love is one of the few words in the English language that cannot be defined by words alone.

Webster’s Dictionary defines love as:

a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties  (2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests
b : an assurance of affection

It scarcely does justice to convey what love really is. Love is not simply an intense feeling of deep affection, a sexual desire in someone or even a need to care for someone.

love-is-jason-stadtlanderLove is a storm, a torrent of emotion that flows through us like a song that flows on the air.
Love is a rock, that holds us to the shore and gives us something worth fighting and living for.
Love are the arms that carry us out of the darkest despair, out of the depths of Hell, and shows us the light of a new day.
Love is the sweet breath of your newborn child as they lay swaddled in your arms.
Love is the soft, leathery skin of the person you love, holding your hand as you take your last breath.
Love is knowing that each day can be better than the last.
Love is the light of the sun as it hits your face in the early morning hours of the winter, showing you that despite the brutal cold… There is warmth.
Love is music as it swaddles you, making you dance, making you sing, making you live.
Love creates our life and helps it pass with dignity and in the end, it comforts us.
Love is… The definition of the human soul.

Copyright © Jason Stadtlander - All Rights Reserved

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