Shana -- or is it Shauna? -- sent an awe inspiring postcard depicting the
treats we all craved at one time or another throughout our lives. This
"Christmas Theme" postcard displays "cookies in the shape of snow men, ice skates,
snowflakes and mittens" In two cups of what can only be hot chocolate with
whipped cream a snowman and a snowflake stick out from the cups inviting a
celebration of warmth and seasonal merriment.
I call this piece Brilliance because on AOL this morning there was a similar
photo displaying treats of all sizes and shapes under this caption.
Brilliance
Shana sat with her cup of coffee looking down the block towards Main Street.
It was a quiet morning filled with a silence that made her reflect on the
many places she had visited throughout her life.
She turned her head to look at a wall of postcards she had collected from
all over the United States. Each postcard represented a point and time in her
life. She had spent many years sharing her love of travel by sending postcards
to her three nieces. Each postcard depicted more than the photo on the
front; in many ways they shared a map of her hopes and dreams.
Whether it was during conferences in Albany, where she sat and listened to
lectures by strangers. Or while driving past the magnificent cornstalks of
Iowa, when she decided to take to the road between meetings. Or the cheese of
Wisconsin where she watched people indulge in the fine art of enjoying the
magic of conversation; to the mountains and bridges of Pittsburgh where over time
she could see beyond the coal covered skies and discover the enchantment of
shared time.
Shana's life was defined in photos taken by others to define the places she
had been. Her three nieces always marveled at the different cards sent by
Aunt Shana. Shana, in their eyes was a world traveler.
In reality, Shana was a hard working woman who discovered the special ways
to enjoy life while making ends meet. She knew deep down that "ends never
meet" but she could share the postcards spread out over time like breadcrumbs
through an immense forest.
Often, Shana when sitting quietly would reflect on the cards seeing details
hidden behind the photos. She could escape in to these scenes and journey
back to that place and time. Shana was not afraid to reflect on her past, she
had few regrets and many dreams left to chase.
She told a friend once, "the postcards allow me to chase my dreams." She
knew not many could understand the sentiment, but she was never embarrassed by
saying what was on her mind.
Sitting and focusing on the street light at the corner of her block, Shana
could feel the urge building up inside herself. That urge that allowed her the
freedom to travel. A never ending expression of her desire to be on the
move. Sitting idle made her happy, but being out on the road discovering new
people and places gave her a reason to believe.
She believed in the little miracles of life, like her three nieces she
always found time to drop a line to. They were growing older now. So many
postcards over time dropped in mailboxes from Airports, Hotels, and roadside Diners;
each one sent with a declaration of her love and admiration.
She closed her eyes and whispered the final words of an old novel she read
as a young girl in High School. A novel she was told many times was "for men."
She smiled at the thought of an argument she had with a man in a lobby of a
hotel outside of Boise, Iowa.
It was after a long and tiresome day of lectures and endless presentations.
She stopped in to the hotel's bar called "Heaven's Catch." She sat down
placing her belongings down. It was late and there was only one man sitting at the
bar. She ordered her drink and sat for a moment looking at the Television.
On the screen played over and over again was the tragedy of the days events.
The World Trade Center Towers, she had visited with her nieces, taken
pictures with them smiling and sharing ice cream sodas were gone. She could not
remember why her bosses thought it important to continue with things as
scheduled throughout the day. The world was in a state of confusion and the company
she worked for decided the only way to deal with the tragedy was to carry on
as usual.
She hated the phrase, "carry on as usual." Nothing was normal anymore. She
had called her nieces throughout the day to check and make sure they were
fine. She wanted to know if her sister had gotten home from work yet. Her sister
and brother-in-law both worked in the World Trade Center. Staying focused on
the presentations throughout the day had made her feel nauseous and
disoriented. Her boss insisted "if you carry on as usual all this will pass."
At the bar she sat realizing for the first time how devastating the visions
affected her. She looked down at her drink and said out loud, "Is this
heaven?" The man at the other end of the bar held up his glass and replied, "No,
it's Iowa." The bartender smiled for the first time all day and nodded his head
feeling for a moment safe and secure.
The man asked her,"Where you from?" She looked at the screen and without
missing a beat responded, "Ground Zero." The bartender looked at the man and
they immediately were at her side. She told them how she had not heard yet from
her sister who worked in the World Trade Center. She told them she had
reached her three nieces and they were worried. She told them how her boss asked
that she "carry on as usual."
The man who lived and worked nearby as a tractor salesman blurted out his
feelings about Corporate America and the huge cog in the lost values of the
American dream. She was not certain this had much to do with making her feel
better but she appreciated his support.
She whispered to herself the last words of the novel she could not get out
of her head, "And nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody
besides the forlorn rags of growing old." The bartender asked her what she meant.
The man next to her looked bewildered and confused.
She thought for a moment staring at the television screen, "It's from On The
Road by Jack Kerouac." The bartender shook his head and the man sat back and
told her what she had heard a hundred times in her life, "Women don't read
that rubbage. That's a man's book!"
She was not in the mood for being characterized and categorized; she told
him, "Then explain to me why I'm sitting in a damn bar talking to you?" She had
made her point and both men agreed that times had changed.
She looked at her cell phone, picked it up numerous times to ensure it was
charged. She said to them "Waiting is the hardest part." They both agreed and
offered to wait it out with her. Soon, each of them were picking up the cell
phone to make certain it was working. While they watched the TV screen almost
mesmerized by the constant flow of the same scenes over and over again Shana
noticed behind the bar, hundreds of postcards taped to a mirror. On one
postcard was a photo of the World Trade Center. She asked the bartender if she
could see it.
He handed it to her after reading out loud the inscription on the back:
Dear Joe,
Thanks for the talk. Sorry, I kept you up late. I got back with my wife and
we're doing fine. If you're ever in New York, look me up and we can have a
drink on the top of the world! Sincerely, Charlie Morse
The man lifted his glass high above his head and shouted, "To Charlie
Morse!" They all agreed they hoped Charlie Morse was ok at the top of the world.
The phone started to ring and for a moment they felt startled and each sensed
their hearts beating faster.
Shana picked up the phone. "Is everyone all right?" The two men looked at
her facial expressions feeling themselves inwardly praying. Shana's eyes began
to tear and she put her head in hands weeping. Both men began to sob not
knowing why. They could feel their fist clenching fighting back the urge to punch
something. She began weeping louder and saying "Yes," "Oh My God!" "Uh huh"
"Thank God."
It was the sound in her voice when she said "Thank God" that made both men
take deep breaths. She spoke a while longer easing up on her elbows and at
last smiling. She closed her cell phone. She looked at both men and shook her
head with a sigh. The bartender turned off the television. He clicked on the
jukebox. Bob Seger started singing his song "Mainstreet".
The man put out his hand and Shana took it without thinking. They danced
slowly in a bar called Heavenly Catch somewhere on the outskirts of Boise, Iowa.
Shana's sister and brother-in-law would be all right. They would carry on as
usual.
The bartender held the postcard in his hands. He took down a frame from the
wall showing an award he had gotten in a rodeo. He took out the award and
tossed it aside. He took his pen and wrote "Long Live Charlie Morse!" He put the
card in the frame and placed it back on the wall.
The next morning Shana sent out postcards. Each one depicted a photo of an
empty field in Iowa. It was brilliant and beautiful.
Keep Smiling and Rock On, Kiddrane out near Lake Marie waiting.
