Category: Longer Stories

Longer Stories

AMAGANSETT BEACH

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

This piece was originally written in October, 2020.
It was recently revamped to complement a flash
I wrote three days ago called ‘Force Majeure’.
This story is based on true events
and the people are my family members.
The names of the characters have been changed ….
all except Susie. Her name remains unchanged.
🛸

Known for their dry wit and clever sense of humor, twins Ben and Jack couldn’t get anyone to believe they saw a UFO on the beach. No matter how hard they tried, everyone just laughed it off as a prank. The teenaged siblings, younger sister Jenny and their parents lived in a cottage one-half mile from the beach in Amagansett. Cousin Susie and her parents lived next door and the four teenagers were always together. It was a Saturday night and their parents were hosting the weekly bridge game. Everyone was slightly inebriated and laughingly dismissed the twin’s tall tale of UFOs.

It all began about two hours earlier. The foursome were on the beach listening to the radio, shooting the breeze and smoking cigarettes they snuck out of the kitchen cabinet. The sky that night was pitch-black, devoid of any stars or even a sliver of the moon. Their flashlights gleamed like little beacons as they sat in a tight circle on the sand.

“Twist and Shout” came on the radio and the girls jumped up to dance, trying to get the boys to join in. The twins just laughed and laid back on the sand, their arms folded under their heads. Looking up at the sky, Ben noticed an unusual light far off in the distance and pointed it out to the others. Holding their flashlights close to their faces, they started making up stories about the light being a UFO; the amber glow made their features look like they were extraterrestrials.

The teens decided the far away object in the sky was just a plane but there was something unusual about it. This ‘thing’ didn’t move in a forward direction as an airplane would; instead it gradually descended toward the water as it shifted slightly from left to right slowly approaching the shore. The closer the amorphous glow came to the beach the more it took on the appearance of a giant jellyfish.

The dim lights of the mysterious craft started getting brighter until they were so intense the four teens had to shield their eyes. The curious object began vibrating slightly; as the cousins peeked through their fingers, the vibrations increased and the ship started emitting shrill sounds. Covering their ears, they sought shelter behind an overturned rowboat. Realizing Susie was not with them, Jack looked back and saw her standing on the shore, arms outstretched and staring directly at the ever-increasing light.

The boys called out her name and yelled for her to come to them but their voices couldn’t be heard above the piercing noises of the missile. Susie stood in a trance, unable or unwilling to move as a shimmering halo surrounded her entire body. The strange craft hovered over her as long-reaching prongs crackled and sparked like electric tentacles. After about 30 seconds, the noises abruptly stopped and the lights dimmed; the missile spun around and shot off like a rocket in the direction from which it came. In an instant it was gone, swallowed up by the blackness of the night.

Susie fell to her knees, shaken and dazed but otherwise seemingly unharmed. The boys raced to their cousin, grabbed her arms and ran back to their hiding place. When Susie felt like she was able to walk, they made their way home; no one spoke a single word.

For a couple of days after the incident, the teens try to tell their parents what had happened. No one took their stories seriously and they eventually stopped talking about it. When a small article about strange sightings in the sky was written up in the newspaper, it was dismissed as a practical joke. As time passed, that night on the beach was never mentioned again.

Life went on as usual for the teens except for Susie. About six years after the incident on Amagansett Beach, Susie became ill with debilitating headaches and terrible pains in her stomach. After a series of tests, doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her yet she continued to suffer. One night while Ben, Jack and Jenny were visiting Susie, the conversation turned to that night on the beach. It was the first time in six years that the cousins spoke about that bizarre event.

Ben told the others of a strange recurring dream that had been haunting him. The room became silent as he quietly described legions of small humanoid creatures with conical heads working in some sort of laboratory. A few of the little men led Ben into a room; in the middle of the room was a large round cushion. Ben was stripped of his clothes, massaged with lotions and given a white robe to wear. He was handed a large vial of liquid and instructed to drink it, then he was told to lie down on the cushion. The last thing he remembered was one someone saying “Let the process begin”.

The silence in the room was broken when Jack declared in a disbelieving voice “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s not possible! I’ve been having the exact same dream!” In a trembling voice Jenny tearfully described her dream of being artificially impregnated and giving birth to numerous ‘alien’ babies. Susie gasped and turned ashen. It was then that she realized she had been having the same dream as Jenny. This was too incredible! The four cousins were shaken to the core by this revelation and had no idea what to make of it. One thing was for certain: they were convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever occurred that night on the beach was causing them to have these dreams.

Susie was overwhelmed by all the talk about the dreams and began to cry. Suddenly she clutched her abdomen and started moaning loudly in extreme pain, begging to be taken to the hospital. Her cousins immediately drove her to the emergency room. The doctors ordered X-rays, an ultrasound and CT scan for Susie; all the tests came back normal and she was sent home. In a voice no stronger than a whisper Susie told her cousins that even though the doctors could find nothing wrong with her, she knew she was very sick. Susie was in a very bad place physically, mentally and emotionally and no one knew what to do to help her. She just wanted to be left alone and to never talk about that horrible night again.

Over the next few months, Susie’s health worsened. At the age of 21, her periods stopped and she went to see her gynecologist; he determined that Susie had at least one miscarriage. She was aghast at what the doctor said and insisted that was impossible because she had not had sex in more than four years. The gynecologist assumed Susie was in a state of denial and referred her to a psychologist but she refused to go. Once again Susie was admitted to the hospital for a dilation and curettage to clear her uterine lining, a common procedure after a miscarriage. Two nights later she died in her sleep at home; an autopsy revealed no known cause of death, no medical reason why she should have died. Susie was just three weeks shy of her 22nd birthday.

Ben, Jack and Jenny were devastated by their cousin’s death; they made a pact that they would never again discuss their dreams or anything about that night on the beach. Eventually things returned to normal and the dreams stopped. The siblings all got married, settled down and raised families and that terrifying night years ago was all but forgotten.

Now here they were, just one month after Ben and Jack’s 75th birthday and reports were surfacing of luminous globes suspended over the waters of Amagansett Beach. Susie’s tragic death and sixty years filled with unanswered questions came rushing back. Despite all the unexplained happenings that Ben, Jack and Jenny experienced, word of these new sightings now left them with an inexplicable compulsion to go back to where it all began.

Is it their need to learn the truth or are they being summoned? Ben, in his typical rational and logical way made the final decision: in memory of Susie and for their own peace of mind they would never return to Amagansett Beach.

In memory of Susie M. (1949-1970)

NAR © 2023

This is the song that was playing on the radio that night on Amagansett Beach – the Beatles singing “Twist and Shout”.

Longer Stories

HER DRIVING FORCE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬


When she saw him for the first time, he was walking alone at night in the pouring rain. She sat in her car, stopped at a red light, and watched as he slowly tramped forward, head lowered, collar raised and hands in his pockets. He seemed haunted, lost and oblivious to the weather and his surroundings.

He appeared to be in his late teens, tall and slim. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes she felt a great sadness must be behind them. She had the strong urge to reach out to him. She experienced that familiar combination of sympathy, nurturing, curiosity and desire. 

The light changed and she had no choice but to move on. Instead of going straight she turned right once, twice, three times until she was now at the corner just as the teen approached. She pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window, asking if he needed help, perhaps a ride to wherever he was headed. At first her questions got no response; neither she nor the young man moved. Then he slowly raised his head and looked up. His eyes were lifeless, his face devoid of emotion. 

Again she called out to him, saying he must be cold, possibly hungry. No reaction. She leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door offering him shelter from the rain. Still he did not move and she quietly asked him to allow her to help. His face softened imperceptibly and he tentatively approached the car. She said to please get in and close the door. She smiled as he did what she asked. 

She inquired if she could take him somewhere; no response. Shifting the car into drive she headed in the direction of her house. She told him he could trust her. She offered him the comfort of a hot meal and a place to rest. He sat looking straight ahead, saying nothing. She spoke softly, telling him she had groceries in the car – a freshly roasted chicken and warm bread – and she noticed he inhaled slightly, savoring the delectable aromas. She drove into her driveway, pulled straight into the garage and closed the door using the remote control. With a velvety laugh she told the young man she was famished and was going inside to eat. He was welcome to join her – his choice. 

She became aware of his presence before she saw him. He stood in the hallway, his sopping wet coat dripping on the floor. She told him to remove it and she gingerly helped him take it off, hanging it on a hook to dry. She placed heaping platters of food on the table and only then did he look up, his face expressionless yet more handsome than she imagined. He allowed her to lead him to the table where his hunger overcame him and he devoured everything on his plate, never once looking at her.

When he finished eating she brought him to the den where he sat on a sofa by the fireplace. Quietly she placed pieces of kindling and wood in the fireplace and watched as the flames began to flicker, filling the room with a warm glow. When she turned around the teen was asleep, his face finally at rest. She removed his shoes, covered him with a blanket and went upstairs to bathe.

Slipping into a sheer robe, she went back downstairs and silently walked into the den. Her guest was awake, staring at the fire. She sat beside him and placed her hand over his. He didn’t move away. Emboldened, she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast. He shuddered and closed his eyes. Reaching across his body she placed her left hand on his right shoulder, turning him to face her and for the first time they looked into each other’s eyes. She shrugged off her robe and placed both his hands on her breasts, encouraging him to caress her. His breathing was ragged and she smiled seductively as she began to unbutton his shirt. Now his hands were roaming freely and he didn’t stop her when she unzipped his pants, feeling his erection growing harder beneath her deft fingers. 

She told him it had been four empty years since her husband’s sudden death and she was very lonely. Slowly she eased him back and mounted him, delighting in the exquisite sensation. She gyrated smoothy, deeply; there was no need to rush. Afterwards they went upstairs to her room. There was much she could teach this boy and the possibilities excited her. 

The next morning when she awoke she was alone. She went downstairs but he was gone. Unperturbed, she walked into the kitchen and brewed some coffee. She lit a cigarette and sat at her laptop. Clicking a key she studied the roadmap that appeared on the screen, contemplating her next objective. In which direction would she drive tonight?

NAR © 2023

Won’t you join me today
for another rousing game of
Name That Tune?
It’s gonna be fun!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Longer Stories

TIME’S UP

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Jesus Christ, Marco! I’m a nervous wreck!” wailed Tina. “Meeting your mother for the first time is freaking me out! Do I look ok? What if she doesn’t like me?”  

“Are you kidding me, babe? You look great! She’s gonna love you! Besides … my mother thinks we’re just friends; she won’t be judging you!” replied Marco with a huge grin and a bit too much enthusiasm as he selected his mother’s favorite Dean Martin record. 

“But honey, you’ve told me how your mother scrutinizes everything with an eagle eye and doesn’t miss a trick. I’m scared of her and we haven’t even met yet! The pressure is killing me! What if she figures out we haven’t been honest with her?” Tina was getting frantic.

Marco reached out and pulled her close, giving her a comforting hug. His mother never liked any of his gitlfriends, saying no one was good enough for him. Just this once Marco wanted her to likr being with Tina for who she was, without any preconceived notions – even if it meant keeping the truth from her for a while.

“Babe, try to relax. Ma’s bark is worse than her bite. I promise, there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting yourself all worked up for no reason. When my mother finally hears the truth, it won’t matter that we didn’t tell her right away; she’ll already be crazy about you! I’m not a little boy and I don’t need my mother’s permission for anything. As long as Dean Martin is playing in the background, she’ll be fine.” It sounded to Tina like Marco was trying to convince himself as well as her.

The ring of the doorbell was expected but it still startled Marco and Tina. Carrying a box of Italian pastries, Marco’s mother Francesca arrived promptly at 6:00 – ready and quite curious to meet this woman sharing her son’s new house. Introductions were made, niceties exchanged and then Tina excused herself to check on dinner. “She certainly knows her way around the kitchen well enough; maybe her cooking won’t be so bad” Francesca thought hopefully while keeping a close eye on her son’s “house mate”. 

While Tina put the finishing touches on dinner, Marco brought out some appetizers. “Ah, bruschetta!” exclaimed Francesca but when she bit into the small thin slice of toasted Italian bread, she discovered the topping was raw meat. “It’s steak tartare, Ma” explained Marco. Francesca made a horrified face and hastily deposited her half-chewed mouthful into a paper napkin. “O Dio mio! Raw meat will give you food poisoning!” Francesca exclaimed. “I hope the rest of the meal is cooked”, she thought. 

In an attempt to calm his mother down and get her mind off the failed appetizers, Marco decided to give her a tour of the house he shared with Tina. 

“Look, Ma. Isn’t this nice?  A large airy kitchen with an island and plenty of room for a table and chairs. Here’s the dining room with a buffet and hutch filled with glasses and dishes that belonged to Tina’s great-grandmother. Isn’t the furniture beautiful? We got at a Roma’s in Brooklyn, imported from Italy. We even have a fenced-in backyard and patio with a barbecue grill. But the best part is two big bedrooms, each with a separate bathroom so there’s no fighting over who gets to shower first.”

Marco realized he was saying too much and talking way too fast; he laughed self-consciously, feeling like he was 10 years old again and his mother’s laser eyes were burning right through his skull after catching him in a lie. He squirmed uncomfortably and quickly closed the bathroom door when he noticed the towels that were on the rack were embroidered with the words “HIS” and “HERS”.

Francesca just nodded her head and mumbled “That’s nice” every so often; she may have seemed indifferent but that was far from true. If Francesca saw the bathroom towels, she gave no indication. Now Marco was nervous about that … a careless mistake on his part.

“Come in the kitchen, Ma. Let’s have a nice glass of wine to celebrate your first visit to our house” Marco suggested.

“Our house” thought Francesca.

Francesca sipped her wine and silently simmered on a low boil, her thoughts working overtime while Marco and Tina puttered around the kitchen. “Well, Tina certainly made herself right at home, bringing over all her great-grandmother’s dishes and glasses! I don’t get it. Unmarried men and women sharing a house?” Francesca asked herself. “Maybe in a big house with five or six other people and a lot of bedrooms, but an intimate space with two people of the opposite sex? I don’t like it! And how come the bedrooms have such big beds? Something fishy’s going on here!” Francesca tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes taking everything in.

Finally dinner was ready; throughout the meal, Francesca couldn’t help noticing how attentive Tina was to Marco. By now she was very suspicious about their relationship; she was sure there was more than just friendship between the two of them and their little interactions further convinced her there was something brewing between her son and his “house mate”.

Recognizing the look on his mother’s face, Marco said “I know what you’re thinking, Ma, but I told you before – Tina and I are just friends. House mates. Don’t go making a big deal out of nothing.”  Francesca smiled thinly and replied “Whatever you say, Marco”. But in her head she was thinking “House mates, my ass!”

About a week later Tina said to Marco “I know this is gonna sound crazy but I can’t find the napkin rings I used the night your mother was here. I’ve looked everywhere for them. You don’t think your mother took them, do you?” 

“Well, I can’t imagine why she’d do that”,  Marco replied, “but there’s only one way to find out. I’ll send her an email.”  

Dear Ma – Crazy question! Tina’s napkin rings are missing. Now, I’m not saying you TOOK the napkin rings and I’m not saying you DIDN’T take them but they have been missing since you were here the other night and you were the only other person to see them. Love, Marco  

A reply came through one minute later: 

Dear Marco – Funny you should ask! Now, I’m not saying that you DO sleep with Tina and I’m not saying that you DON’T sleep with her but if she was sleeping alone in her OWN bed she would have found the napkin rings by now – under her pillow. Love, Ma 

Oh, by the way, I saw the towels, too.

NAR © 2023

Please join me today
In The Groove
as we continue our musical journey.
It’s really getting good!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Longer Stories

SAFE IN A BUBBLE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

September 12, 2001 – The Bronx, New York

“Arabic For Dummies”? The Qur’an? What the hell are these disgusting books doing in our house? You’re still associating with that … that … savage, aren’t you, Gloria? Answer me!” 

“Papa, please, calm yourself. It’s not good for your blood pressure. If you’re referring to Yusuf, he is not a savage. He’s a sweet, gentle and loving man and you’d realize that if you got to know him. He’s a student at the university studying religion and…..” 

“And the making of bombs and God knows what else! Gloria, he’s an Arab, a Muslim, for the love of God! Haven’t you seen enough on tv to know what these people are capable of? You saw with your own two eyes what happened yesterday! Here, on American soil. Crashing planes into buildings! Innocent people jumping to their deaths because it was preferable to being burned alive! We wept for people we don’t even know, Gloria. We witnessed the unimaginable. They are animals, mass-murderers, all of them!” 

“You’re right, Papa; what happened yesterday was unspeakable. We will never forget such horror. Yusuf and his family are appalled and overcome with sorrow over this tragedy. But Papa, tell me – when did you become an expert on Muslims or Arabs? You’ve never even tried to get to know them. All my Arab friends are good people, decent, peace loving people. We’ve spent hours talking, exchanging philosophies and sharing meals.” 

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing. You actually sit down and eat with these people, if you can even call them that? This is a nightmare! How can you do this to me?” 

“What am I doing to you, Papa? You haven’t even given Yusuf a chance. You refuse to meet him, to sit down and have a conversation with him. You’d see he is a man of peace, a good man incapable of hurting anyone.” 

“Are you nuts? Have you lost your mind, Gloria? Do you actually think I would sit with him in my house? Please, God, don’t tell me he has you brainwashed already! That’s what they do, you know … draw you in to their cult and before you know it you’re hooked and there’s no way out. Why can’t you stick to our own kind, find a nice Jewish boy? An Arab and a Jew … whoever heard of such craziness?!?

“I can’t believe we’re fighting over this again! Why must you keep bringing it up, Papa? You didn’t give Evelyn a hard time when she said she was going to marry Gino. And what about Kenny when he and Makayla got engaged? You now have an Italian son-in-law and a black daughter-in-law who you welcomed with open arms and you don’t want me seeing Yusuf simply because he’s an Arab!” 

“Oh no, do not be fooled, Gloria. There’s no such thing as ‘simply an Arab‘. They all have a hidden agenda! Are you blind to what’s going on around you?” 

“Papa, look at me. I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions. Why can’t you trust my judgement like you did with Kenny and Evelyn?” 

“Gloria, you’re not thinking clearly. Gino is a doctor, making an excellent salary. Your sister and their kids will never want for anything. Makayla’s parents are lawyers and she’s in law school herself. Your brother and sister made smart choices. They didn’t bring some maniac suicide bomber into our family.” 

“STOP! Stop saying that! You know nothing about Yusuf and you have no idea what you’re talking about! He’s a wonderful man with a big heart and we have developed deep feelings for each other.” 

“Deep feelings. Deep feelings? What are you saying, Gloria? Are you sleeping with him?” 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you just asked me that! I’m not a child and, frankly, that’s none of your business.” 

“None of my business? As long as you’re living under my roof, it’s my business.”

“Here we go again! Well maybe it’s high time I moved out of this prison and found a place of my own!” 

“PRISON! After all your mother and I have done for you, you have the nerve to say that! And by ‘a place of your own’, you mean shacking up with that terrorist, don’t you? Why don’t you just stab me in the heart and put me out of my misery!” 

“Genug! Enough! Sei still!!
What’s going on here?
I can hear the two of you all the way downstairs!” 

“Hilda, אהובתי (“my love”) I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“As if you could hear anything over all the yelling in here!
What’s gotten into the two of you?” 

“It’s your daughter. She’s being absolutely unreasonable. I don’t even know who she is anymore.” 

“Oh, mein Gott! So now she’s MY daughter? Sheldon,
the last time I checked she was OUR daughter.
Is this about that Arab boy again?” 

“Mama, please! I can’t talk to Papa about this any more. If anyone is being unreasonable, it’s him.” 

“Gloria, calm yourself, meine liebe Tochter.
Why don’t you go out for a while,
go to that nice coffee shop near the university?
Spend some time with your friends.
Sheldon, come sit with me.”  

“Hilda, are you crazy? She’s going to run right to him! Don’t you see what you’re doing?” 

“Just like you ran to me, Sheldon, when your parents called me a filthy Nazi?
Look at me, Shelly. Do you remember what it was like for us
when we first met? You a Jew and me a German.
Ach du lieber Gott! What were we thinking?
My father was so furious, he wanted to kill both of us.
But we knew we’d rather die than be separated.
Sheldon, you should know better than anyone
that you cannot judge one man
simply by the sickening actions of others,
by his looks, what country he’s from
or what god he worships.
You’re a good man, liebchen.
You were a good man when we were teenagers
and you’re a good man now.
You’re scared, Shelly, just like we were scared back then.
But we persevered and in time my parents saw the real you
and your parents saw the real me.
Do you remember what you told your parents
all those years ago?” 

“Of course I do. I said ‘I love her and I would die for her’.” 

“Ja. And do you remember what I said to your parents?” 

“Like it was yesterday. You said ‘I love him and I would die without him’.” 

“Things haven’t changed that much, Sheldon,
except now WE’RE the parents.
Shelly, you have to let Gloria fly on her own wings.
You have to trust her.
If you don’t we will lose her.
I hate to burst your bubble, meine schnitzel,
but they love each other
and it’s as simple as that.
Trust them.” 

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll join me today
for some great tunes
straight out of the Motor City!
https://rhythmsection/blog/

Longer Stories

SEPTEMBER SONG

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

The events of 911 are on all our minds today.
I have chosen to repost a piece I wrote in 2020,
not about what happened on that horrendous day,
not about hate and violence
but a reflection on a simpler time,
a more peaceful time.
I hope it relaxes your mind and
soothes your heart and soul.
❤︎

When I was younger I remember my grandparents dancing in the living room to some of their favorite ballads: “I’ll Be With You In Apple Blossom Time”, “As Time Goes By”, “I’ll Be Seeing You”, “You Belong To Me”. They would drink a glass or two of sherry and talk about “the good old days” and how quickly the years pass. There was one song in particular that always made them somewhat melancholy. They’d sit side by side near the fireplace just listening to the words and holding each other close:

“When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
One hasn’t got time for the waiting game”

I was just a kid and I couldn’t understand why a song about weather and time made them sad. That’s the way it is with kids; time means nothing. If someone is 25-years-old, that’s practically ancient! We’d watch shows like “Father Knows Best” and “The Donna Reed Show”; the actors were probably 40-years-old, if that, but they looked decrepit to us. The concept of aging was nonexistent.

❖❖❖❖

You blink your eyes once and you’re suddenly in high school. Then before you know it you’re married with kids of your own. Wait a gosh darn minute! When did that happen? Funny how time has a way of creeping up on you. One day you’re sledding down a giant snow-covered hill and the next you’re taking your own kids sledding down that same hill.

Your little Katie with a head-full of golden curls is now a teenager and you hear yourself saying the exact same things your parents said to you. And now your parents are the ones sitting by the fireplace listening to “September Song”.

Then one morning you wake up and it’s Katie’s wedding day. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and your wife says how dashing you look, still so handsome in your tuxedo and you tell her she’s radiant in her gown, always the prettiest girl in the room. And in each other’s eyes it’s the truth; you haven’t changed a bit since your own wedding day.

You think about your grandparents, gone for a long time now, and you remember the call you got from your mother last week:

“Oh, dear, your dad and I are just heartbroken over this
but we aren’t going to be able to make the trip
up to Vermont for Katie’s wedding.
Lord knows, we hate to miss it but we’ll be there in spirit.
Please give our sweet Katie-Girl all our love.“

You understand; they’re 80-something and don’t get around like they used to. It’s a long trip from Florida to Vermont and they can’t handle the cold weather. Still, you feel very sad knowing they’ll miss their first grandchild’s wedding day.

❖❖❖❖

What a beautiful bride Katie was! Doesn’t her wedding photo look lovely on the mantle next to yours and your parents and your grandparents? Now it’s just the two of you in that old, empty house. Once upon a time, when you and your brothers and sisters were kids, the house was filled with your laughter. But wait – it’s suddenly not so empty and quiet anymore. Where’s all that noise coming from? You take a peek around the corner; there are your grand kids in the living room near the Christmas tree. There’s some rock and roll song on the record player, the 12-year-old twins are playing “Yahtzee” and your 15-year-old granddaughter is furtively sharing a sweet kiss with her boyfriend under the mistletoe.

“C’mon, kids!” Katie calls out from the front hallway. “Your dad’s got the car all packed up and it’s time to go. Say goodbye to Grams and Gramps.” And she gives you both a kiss on the cheek promising to call soon.

❖❖❖❖

It seems like just yesterday but you realize eight years have gone by since you left Vermont and retired to Florida. You think about playing golf but your rotator cuff has been hurting a lot lately and your wife isn’t quite ready to hit the links so soon after her hip replacement. Well, let’s not think about that now. There will be plenty of days for golf. So you pour yourself another cup of coffee and work on a crossword puzzle while your wife knits a blanket for Katie’s grand-baby – your very first great-grandchild.

Now in the evenings you sip sherry in the living room. “There’s nothing good on tv these days. How about we listen to some music? Well, look what I found!” and you blow the dust off an old forgotten record laying on the shelf.

“What memories that song brings back!” And you sit holding hands, gazing at faded family wedding photos on the mantle, listening to Sinatra sing:

“Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December
But the days grow short when you reach September”

And you give your wife a hug and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

NAR © 2020

It was my great honor and thrill back in 2020 to be asked to narrate a few of my stories on the BBC radio show called Upload; this was one of those stories. I hope you enjoyed reading it today.