Wildflower Writes

Continued from 5/29 post… Wendy felt the tears fill her eyes. She hurriedly looked away and blinked, regaining composure. When she turned back, she was looking right into Jason’s eyes. The mischievous glint was gone, and instead she saw deep blue eyes, filled with concern and compassion… for her? She didn’t understand how a stranger could care so much. “I… I’m not,” she finally blurted out. “I’m not ready for this. I don’t want to let go.” A sob welled up deep within her, and she felt weak in the knees. Without a word, he drew her into a brief hug, holding her for just a moment as the tears began to fall, then gently pushing her to arms length. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. No one expects you to be strong all the time.” He spoke the truth, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. Wendy murmured a hurried “excuse me” and brushed past him. She swiped angrily at the tears, trying to find a place to hide. Just past the elevators she spotted a door with a restroom symbol. ...

Continued from 5/15 post… Just as Wendy was trying to figure out how she was going to open the door when she reached the third floor, the door swung open.  A tall young man with curly brown hair, dressed in scrubs, jumped a little when he realized his path was blocked.  He held the door open while Wendy wheeled her bike through.  He cocked his head for a moment, a touch of amusement playing on his lips.  She gave a half smile and shrugged her shoulders.  She knew she must look ridiculous.  She found a family lounge area and wheeled her bike into a corner.  Surely no one else would be dumb enough to take a bike down stairs.  It was probably safe.  Wendy took a deep breath, and wiped her hands on her shorts.  She counted the room numbers, and finally ended up in front of 406.  She walked slowly into the room.  She looked for her mom, but no one was in the room except someone’s feet covered in white sheets to her left. ...

continued from 4/25 post As Wendy’s sobs lessened, unbidden thoughts came to her. They came slowly at first, then rushed in on her in another wave of grief. Would he be at her first soccer match in the fall? He hadn’t missed one since she started running up and down the field as a preschooler. What about graduation? He probably wouldn’t even see her graduate, or see her college dorm room. When she finally found her Prince Charming, who was going to walk her down the aisle? “Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she cried out loud, wishing for a miracle, wishing that all of this was just a bad dream. When Wendy couldn’t cry anymore, she blew her nose, took a deep breath, and put her keys into the ignition. The rain had lessened somewhat, but lightning still cut through the sky. She slowly pulled out of the lot and made her way home. The drive was a complete blur, and before she knew it she was pulling into her driveway. Her mother’s car was conspicuously absent. Mom was probably at the hospital. Sh...

Nothing is quite like finding out that another person has been saying things about you that not only are untrue, but are mean-spirited and may cost you your job. I rarely cry. I guess I want to believe that most people are basically good, that they wouldn’t go out of their way to hurt another person. I don’t know if it was a lack of sleep, or other little stresses, but the thought of someone who can look me in the face one day and tell me how helpful I was to one of her friends, and the next day, throw me to the wolves… set me over. I couldn’t concentrate on work, and I started to feel nauseous. I went to the bathroom, and the tears started to flow. I prayed for the strength to forgive, to resist giving this person the cold shoulder or telling others what a… kind of person she really is. I did some deep breathing. I was able to tell my husband about it over lunch, which helped. I try not to let things like this affect me so strongly. My boss says I take things too pers...