A romantic heart

Today I am going to write to you from the romantics heart. A heart that is so different from the man who has never known a heart like this. Not sure if it is a gift or a curse but I do know, it is mine. It is descriptive and colorful. It sees things through different eyes and desires only to make people smile and feel good about themselves and their lives. This heart gives everything they have within themselves even at the cost of their own sanity.
Now understand that this does not mean that people do not have romantic moments in which they take their loved one to a beautiful place for dinner and then spend the evening letting that person know how special they are. That happens every single day. But the romantic heart has "romantic" days and weeks and years. Every song they hear, every time they see a bird or flower, they think "how wonderful it would be to share this." To touch you, it is always a caress and not simply a hand brushing over yours. There is so much of a difference, there truly is. The very thought of someone dear fully engulfs them to the point that their brains simply no longer control them in any way. I really don't know that their brains ever have control. They simply step in for a moment but always the romantic is waiting to step forward as soon as possible.
What about the way the romantic heart sees the world? Is it different from they heart that waits for Valentines day or an Anniversary before they do something special for the one they love? The romantic sees every single day as Valentines Day. There is no reason for waiting. In the beauty of the Spring time, red and blue and purple colors spring forth from the ground, once covered in pure white snow. The flowers causing the romantic to see them as gifts to give to someone they love. The smell of a chimney, smoke rising from it's walls, spreading the fragrance of pine burning in the fireplace through out the air. The warmth we know in sitting in front of the fireplace, our lover in our arms, sipping hot cocoa and feeling love from just a single glance. A kiss that is warm and tender, not harsh or demanding brings out the fever within us and causes us to want to give and give of ourselves. Every color of Autumn, every snowfall, the snow-flakes huge and covering the bare ground, making the worlds seem clean and pure. In both the snow and the the orange and yellows and lightly colored green leaves, rush to the ground and gently change the bareness to what appears to be a carpet of hues that accent all that surrounds it.
The shoreline, racing up to touch your feet, caressing your toes and making you smile a bit. The moon is full and offers itself to you for light. The breeze is slight and gives you reason to hold your lover close to you as you sit on a blanket, sharing the scenery of trees and white caps that light up in the moons beams. A kiss stolen in the night and whisper that says how you feel. The whole world is one huge romance waiting to happen, sharing with your lover the beauty that heaven has painted for you.
The romantic sees a simple walk in the forest as a prelude to an evening of love. This heart believes that everything beautiful was created for the heart to take and make another heart feel wonderful. No Sunrise nor Sunset ever allowed to finish without breathing in the allurement of it's enchanting sight. To rise early and walk through the forest, hand in hand, nature's glowing scene, intoxicating both of your minds with the sense of love and desire. The water gently flows over the rocks, mimicked only in mind by tender love and touching. Soft, slow, never abrasive or harsh in any way, but sweet and soft as the water.
Songs... every song matching an emotion, every emotion brings forth a song. A song played again and again, filling the heart with such a beauty, words spoken that the heart takes and gives to their lover, opening their eyes so they can see how truly beautiful they are. Giving your eyes to her mind so they can see what you see. The romantic heart ALWAYS loving, sometimes more than one. The romantic heart, taking from the world some of it's ugliness and giving back to it, beauty. As one of the most beautiful love songs says "Give her rain and she will find a rainbow, give her thorns and she will find a Rose...... Just see the Love she found in me.
Is this heart a blessing or a curse? The heart that loves everyone and sees wonder and laughter and smiles, even through tears. The one that says "Every single minute of every day is Valentines for me. Every moonlit night created for my use and all the Sunrises and Every single Sunset, made just for me. Made so that I can love many and never let anyone feel as if they are not the most precious Gem in the World. That is the romantic heart. Beautiful!!!!!!!!!

My Novels and Me...

I have been writing for the better part of 35 years. I wrote my first novel when I was 15. We lived in the mountains of British Columbia Canada and so it seemed easy for me to write a novel about just such a family. The story grew as the years passed and I dreamed of maybe one day seeing the novel in print. Many years later, after a move to the States, a stint in the Air Force and marriage to my sweetheart, I began to write again. I started a short story about a ghost and her quest for a final resting place. It was 80 pages and on a whim... o.k. at the insistence of my loving family, I submitted it to a publisher. They read it and sent it back, asking me to please expand it to novel size. I decided to try my writing again.
In between the writing of course was life, children, a wife who was very ill and work. It didn't leave much time for writing so i bought a laptop and began taking it with me when Sheila and I would travel to hospitals far away. She would have sometimes 4 or 5 appointments a day for 3 or 4 days at places like Mayo Clinic in Rochester Mn. I would write while waiting for her at the appointments that were tests, in which I could not be with her. At night, after appointments were done and we had eaten, there was often 12 to 14 hours before her next appointment. I would use the time that she was sleeping or resting after a rough day of extensive tests, to write in the novel. The novel was 3/4's finished when I started writing another novel. A thought had crossed my mind and so away I went with the thought.
I didn't touch "Christine", the original name for Until Death Do We Meet at all while I penned the second Novel, Abduction. Two months later, Abduction was finished and I sent it out to publishers.It was picked up immediately and was published and in bookstores in 8 months. My dream, the one I really wanted to see in print, "Christine" still sat on my desk, unpublished. I decided to submit it and this novel too was picked up and 9 months and a name change later, I held "Until Death Do We Meet" in my hands. What a fantastic feeling that was for me.
Today, i sit here, wondering to myself what it takes to "get the novels read." I do my book signings, which I love so much. Few things are as wonderful as signing a novel of your own for someone that came out just to get your novel. It takes a person to places few can ever imagine. I talk about them and show them off. I make sales but none steady. The novels have never received a bad rating or review. I own all the latest "How to market your book" books and get information from on-line sources to try and boost their sales. Word of mouth they tell me sells and so i talk, talk, talk them up. But today, sitting here, thinking of the two that are finished and waiting to be printed, the one I write in now and one that will surely follow that one. Is there a secret to becoming a number one best seller? IS there a formula that I have not found yet that will open doors and have my novels spoken or, written about by the New York Times? How long before I realize my dream?
I have already been so blessed just in having published two novels. I do know this. I will continue to try and make it all happen. Just some open thoughts from my heart and mind to share with you. I hope you don't mind... And by the way, "The North Wind Calls" still sits on my desk, unpublished. Perhaps one day... Always, Darrel

Just some thoughts...

I sit here tonight, heart uncertain where it wishes to be. I watched a show tonight they made my mind wander. Elvis Presley was featured tonight and an avid fan of the King, of course I watched it. As I watched and listened to those that loved him so, their words were of pure love. Even when they spoke of his short comings, their words were softened and filled with love. His daughter Lisa spoke of her father as the man she knew and remembered. The love was so pure and so complete. Some songs brought tears to my eyes as they touched me personally inside.
My daughter Shannon sat and watched the show with me. I sat and listened to her talk about Elvis. She was raised knowing who he was and hearing his songs and his story through her mother and I. She spoke of the great man he was and how sad it was how he lived and died. He had changed in his years of life and living. He had gained so much weight and he had become so sad and alone. How very sad. But even she spoke of the great man he was and all he had done in his life.
Suddenly it hit me inside like a sledge-hammer. I thought about my life and the life that my daughters had witnessed as they grew up. I began to remember the things we did when they were children. I remembered the times I would close my eyes tight and try to find my two little girls. They would run through the living room and dining room, giggling, yet trying so hard for me not to find them. A sort of "Marco Polo" outside of a pool. I remember being on my knees, crawling around and trying to grab them as they raced by me. The time I dove out to grab one of them, forgetting about the solid Oak door jams, until my head found one solidly. Ouchhhhh! hearing them laugh so hard and doing my best not to show the pain that was now pounding in my head. Laughing so hard and them reaching out and grabbing them both and pulling them down to me and hugging them. I thought about the fishing trips we took so often. There were trips to the Black Hills in South Dakota, camping trips and Sesame Street Live and Concerts we went too. Trips to Omaha to the Henry Dorley Zoo and Minnesota, to the Mall of American.
Then I found myself thinking about the time that things... life, began to change for me. Break-downs, depression and me leaving for a little while. I think about the bipolar setting in deeply and our little family suddenly tossed into a whirl wind of me losing grip on life. The pain I brought to them by my own weaknesses. Those same girls now watching their father cry. Seeing me go through so many times of not coping. Life in every way changed forever for them. Hating myself now and back then for hurting them by not being able to hold myself together. The knowing that I had been responsible for hurting their mother. So many thoughts tore through my heart as I remembered, and I suddenly wondered what would they remember of me. Will they sit and talk about me when I go to heaven in the way that Lisa and Priscilla spoke of Elvis? Will they remember the Zoo and the trips to Mount Rushmore and talk of me in a soft understanding voice. Will their words speak in tones of love and respect and of kindness?
I sit here tonight, tears in my eyes, remembering the befores and the things I have accomplished in this lifetime. Being a good father to them. Always teaching them to share their kindness with others. The deep true love and compassion I had for and with their mother. A two time published author and writing and recording songs for a CD. A strong man that worked his butt off every day and was faithful to his job, but still had time to be a father and show them love. Will they remember the man that woke each day and got 2 little babies dressed, making certain they would see their mommy at the hospital every day, then went to work till midnight, stopped in to see his wife in the hospital again and came home to start the day over again? That same man that kept their meds and everything needed to know about them in his head, tucked up there with 15 meds and the dosages and a medical history as long as ones arm about their mother so no matter when or where , he could make sure she had the very best of medical attention... or will they remember the man that later on had trouble even making a simple decision about buying a cake or ordering a meal?
Will they remember the good things or will they close their eyes at night and remember the weak man that lost his way in life and caused their hearts to hurt because of his ways? Will they find compassion and speak softly and gentle about me or will they only see a man that fought to stay in this world daily and some days could not hardly make it through a day with out crying. Who will they remember? This will be my hearts thoughts as I fall to sleep tonight.Sighssssss... What Legacy will I leave for my daughters? Was I a great father to them? I know I have loved them the very best I could. The two most important people in my life. I wonder what they will remember?????????

Spring does come back...

We have been here before, many times I think. But still I return because sometimes things you heard or knew long ago take time to settle into your mind. Seasons... there are four of them, as you know. I have spoken of how friends come into our lives for a season. they touch our lives, open doors and sometimes come to help us close doors that were otherwise to hard for us to do ourselves. We go through different seasons with them depending on why they are in our lives for that time.
So what is new or different about the seasons today? I was sitting thinking about a friend who has been a part of life throughout the seasons. We shared the Spring-time when feelings were nurtured and fed and we watch the beautiful growth of a friendship. Just like the flowers that sprout forth in the Spring, so did our friendship. Imagine the colors of the tulips if you will. A little snow still covering the ground but melting away day by day as the Sun warms the ground. That friendship was filled with red and blue and purple and yellow. The bright hues bringing color to everything around. The smiles at seeing the friendship grow in the warmth of caring.
Summer broke through next. the searing heat that flowed into the friendship, changing feelings from the warmth of caring to the heat of passion. Nights of hot upon hot, breathing labored and the searing of hearts with just a touch. never wanting it to end and yet seeking shelter sometimes from the sheer heat. Protection of a Sun block, afraid that we might be burned. Knowing there might be pain but venturing out into the heat time and time again, the desires so intense.
Fall... Autumn to some people. The slow down of the heated days and nights. The knowing that the hot days of summer have come to an end. No longer do you run out into the sunshine. Now, we embrace the warm days and enjoy the cooler evenings. not certain how to dress from day to day because some days the days turn cool fast and then heat up for just a moment, as if we are trying to hold on to some of the Summers heat, afraid that winter will come to soon. Fall... a time to sit alone outside on the swing and breathe in the new air. Still, some of Summer lingers within our hearts, but Fall now has taken over. the colors are different and though they are beautiful in their own way, they signify the end of a season and the promise of cold and winter.
Winter, sudden and harsh, breathes it chill down our necks and stings our faces a bit. We cover ourselves a bit more to ward off the cold we know will come. That friendship that blossomed into Sweet Summer and sizzled for us, replaced by a cool breeze that leaves us unsure of where we are to go now. Winter brings on the time that weather often prevents us from seeing those we love each day. plans made that are sometimes cancelled because of too much winter. Wanting that is replaced by the task of keeping the snow from burying us alive. Working so to get rid of the snow that has covered everything beautiful now. Alone with only a cup of coffee to warm us inside. False warmth from the cold that is only kept from touching us by a window. A window that allows us to see and remember what Spring looked like but not to touch it any longer.
So what is different from what I have said before? Why do I add to these Metaphors and Similes I use so often to describe where I am? This morning, as i looked out at the snow and the ice that Winter has brought to us already, i saw a place that the ice melt had opened. I could see the sidewalk and the grass that grows next to it. It reminded me that Spring DOES come back around. There may be new flowers and a new look to what was last Spring. BUT... there are also the familiar tulips that were there last Spring. There is still the caring and the desire to warm the ground around the Tulips so they can come forth. We haven't lost what was ours for the Spring and Summer. It simply is covered by Winters snow. The friendship and caring that we hold in our hearts will emerge with Springs touch. You have had the Winter to rest and think about it. No Spring is the same as the year before. There are new flowers now. Some that blossom from the previous and some that the wind blew in from somewhere else. All awaiting the springs Sun to give them life. Friendships that will always be and caring that will never cease.
Seasons: They come and they go but for certain, they will always be... Always, Darrel.

Give thanks...

I woke this morning a bit disconnected.Not truly lost nor alone, simply feeling out of my time. I watched a bit of the news this morning. Fatal crashes from our icy road conditions, a sick baby girl, whose family is asking for help were the two main topics of the morning. But there was one more that disturbed me and brought back to me thoughts and emotions I had been carrying with me for a week or more. The media was talking about the recession and people were on the Tele talking about how they wondered what they would do for money concerning their kids' presents for birthdays and how much they wished they had NOT spent at Christmas. I sat up and listened closely to one lady say she was going to have to sell off her "200" pairs of shoes she had. A man was talking about his assets and how he would survive the recession by liquidating some of his assets. He felt it important that his children were not deprived of the life style they are used to living.
I suppose another time this would have slipped right by me but today... it did not. Thinking of why their attitudes impacted me so, memories of a book I have been reading came rushing back at me. I do not read so often as when i am writing novels I do not like anothers writing to influence my thoughts. I was in between projects and so I read a book I had read many years ago. The story is about a young German girl and her family that during the Nazi attack on the Jews, took refuge in an Annexe of a warehouse.They lived there for better than two years and this young girl kept a Diary of her daily life, hidden inside the walls of this warehouse. She was a writer at heart and would have become world known for her novels I am certain. She did become renowned through out the entire world but only for her Diary. She didn't even live long enough to see her writing become as famous as her name. I am of course writing about Anne Frank.
Anne Frank... A young girl that came from a well to do family. A young girl whose life was turned inside out but wrote of the good things she learned and how easily she had taken so many things for granted. The sounds of a bird chirping, the smell of fresh air and the feel of rain on her face. Simple things that happen daily and go un-noticed at least half of the time that we ourselves experience them. She lived without food sometimes for days. She lived or I should say survived daily in unsafe, unsanitary, to be honest, unlivable conditions and yet still wrote to "Kitty" her diary, every day. Birthdays came as did Christmas and her gifts were that of sugar and potato's and sprays from a bottle of her mothers perfume. Her nights were plagued with bombs exploding all around and her days with hunger pains and fright that they might be discovered.
They were discovered, more betrayed by someone they knew for 1.24 in American money. The family was taken to Austwitch where Anne saw her friends led into the gas chambers. Anne Frank died in March of 1945 from Typhus. Two months later, the camps were liberated. She never knew that one day, her name would become a household name and that the world would come to know her as if she were their sister.
I sit and think about the people I saw on T.V. The man worried that his family might not have All they were so used to. The woman concerned with birthday gifts for her kids. I hear people complain about how "tough" things are right now and how much they have to cut back on just to survive. I listen and I close my eyes. I pray a prayer of thanks to God for all that I have. I thank him for the food I eat daily. I thank him for the books I read, the things I buy and even the computer I use right now to write this for you. And I think, Rough??? You have not even touched the tip of the Iceberg. The country may in fact be in some "tough" times but if you have a roof over your head and food to feed and fill your tummy, then count those blessings. If you are reading this blog without censorship, if you are eating what you like and going to the church of your choice, then you have not seen "Rough" yet.
The next time you think things are so bad here, stop for a minute and think of Anne and her family. Think about all she DID NOT Have and yet she endured and lived her life as best as she could in that tiny Annexe that was her home for more than two years. She never stopped believing and never stopped writing. And Stop... and thank God for the beauty of freedom that we have. DO not take for granted all that God has given to us. Always, Darrel

No tommorws, just a string of todays.

Tomorrows... though we have no promise of them, they do sometimes come. they come to us until there is simply no more. Our tomorrows are sometimes a gathering of new items, new issues that began just because the night turned to day. Some of them are a carry over from the day before or even the week before. I sit and wonder this morning what we would do if the night and day did NOT separate our yesterdays. What would be our actions if every day was simply a continuation of the moment or hours before.
We wake and hear that saying. "Today is the first day of the rest of your life." But what if it were not? Let's imagine for a minute that it is in fact just a continuing of hours and years. Would we live our lives differently? When I go to sleep at night, I say my prayers and ask God to watch over all of those I hold dear. I ask him to forgive me for any wrong I did during the day. Then I roll over and fall asleep, content that tomorrow is a new day and all that was... is now the past. But in reality, it is just a matter of dark vs. light that separates what we have done in a day. Being content that I have said sorries in my heart and spoken to God about my oop's of the day, I sleep.
This morning I woke up with a different thought process. I remembered what I had done yesterday. I played it out in my mind as if the day had never ended at all. And I saw things differently. That attitude I had for an hour or so, the one that hurt someones feelings, was the only thing gone about it. The hurt I had inflicted was still there. Sleeping had not erased it at all. We take a "nap" in the afternoon when we have the chance. When we wake, we continue with the day or evening where ever we left off. Sleep at night is only a nap exaggerated. It is really just a longer nap, that's all. Still, all that we did yesterday and yester-year is still there.
What transpired in my life, many years ago have made me the man i am today. Had life been different, so then would I have been different.Had I been born to a third world country, my life might have been one of struggles and fears and strife. Had I been born to a millionaires family, certainly I would not be who I am today. And yet, still all that happened to me, no matter what life i lived would still have made me the man I would become. I am bipolar and have turrets and some of the reason is because of events I care not to share here, at this time. But I am who i am not because every day started brand new for me. I am ME because every day did NOT start new. They were simply a continuation of the day before, over and over again. For good or bad, I became me.
Imagine if you will for just a moment that tomorrow did not exist. Imagine that today will be today forever and that you will simply "nap" and then the day will go on, eternally. Would you live a different life? Tomorrows Homework is not due tomorrow, it is due Today!{Often the way my daughters viewed when the best time to tell mom and dad of a massive project they had not yet started. lol} There would not be the "grace" period that we often allow ourselves to finish something. The sorrow we caused someone would not be erased with a nights sleep. We would need to go that person and try to make it right. We could not just brush yesterday off our shoulders and go on.
Would i live my life differently? I would like to think not. I would want to tell myself that I did things exactly as I meant to. But no, that would not be true. I would stay to fix whatever wrong I had done. I would love with more zeal and give of myself more if I wasn't able to say "I will do that TOMORROW!" I would strive harder to do things right so that I did not have to lose momentum trying to fix the previous hours wrongs. I would live life as we should be living it. Living it like there was No Tomorrow.I think we would not take for granted our friends or our loves or what we do with each day.
Today I woke and yesterday was still with me. A yesterday of tears for those not with me any longer. A yesterday of smiles I did not return to someone. A Yesterday of tears I did not share with someone that loves me. Unfinished affairs that now halt my desire to go on to today. "Live today like there is no tomorrow." "Tell someone you love them." Do what you want to do as if today is the ONLY day you have to do it. Bring yesterday along with you as if it were today. Do NOT let anything pass you by that might cause someone to smile. I don't know if today will be the "first" day of the rest of my life but I do know it will be the start of my forever. Hugsss to you all. Always, Darrel

A New year with the same Mind!!!

It is now the New year! 2009. Welcome to 2009... and Welcome to My World.A world where time passes and you watch it happening. A world of personifying the words "net-surfing." A world, My world sub-named "planet Bipolar." This is a place that is partly responsible for causing those that love us grief. They sit, waiting for us, ready to leave for an appointment or to go home or to the store. I sit here this morning, a loved ones worst nightmare, knowing I should be doing wash, making an important phone call, finishing what was started yesterday and needs finishing today. I look at my watch and see the time slip past. The anxiety inside of my body causing me to shake a bit and make my breathing a little faster than it need be.Why don't I just get up and do the things I know will calm me? Why do I watch time go by, allowing myself to get tensed with fear that someone else will do what I am supposed to do, even though I am NOT doing it myself right now? Again I say, welcome to my world.
If you have a loved one that leaves you exactly where I am describing right now, be kind and patient. Yes, I know, sometimes there really isn't time to be patient. Sometimes there are meetings to be at or things to pick up from the store that will close soon. Believe me, you yelling at us and reminding us of things we already know will NOT make us move faster. And if it does, we will be unbearable for the next hour, week maybe even days. My family has adapted the "Oops" strategy. What is that, you asked? That is when We arrive,late, as usual and per my inability to make the decision to leave the house. Late by my watch but a half of am hour EARLY according to the rest of the families watches. Why? Because, "Oops, did we say 1:00 o'clock? We meant to say 1:30." Yes, they give me a false time to be somewhere and My mind doesn't struggle so much to say "Hmmm, is that the correct time or a fake time so we will be there on time?" This really does work and it saves my family a lot of "sorry we are lates."
Understand if you can try that we do not purposefully want to be late. We do not go out of our way to screw up your day.The ability to make a simple decision to leave somewhere, anywhere at the precise time we were planning to is a huge battle for people that are bipolar. I have written of this before. The fact that the Holidays are over and we are most likely coming down from a huge euphoric high, wandering aimlessly into what is sure to be a nasty Low, does not help in any way. So here we sit, all i know needing done today, phone calls that should have been made, laundry still untouched. Anxietic as Hell and yet doing nothing to fix it because... because my brain simply hasn't processed it enough for me act. I will, I assure you.
Why do I write this today? Because this morning I woke up in MY world. A world of confusion and wonder and fear and smiles. A world that is unlike the world most live in. A place that leaves me unable to do a damn thing but sit here and tell you about it all. Hoping that the writing will open my world up enough to where I can function. I write in hopes that in the new year, you will have a better understanding of the loved one you share your life with. trying to give you a heads up so that there need not be cruel things said or anger flared because that loved one simply can not get "moving" as you may have already said to them. Just a little help for you both. Hugsssssss to you all. Always, Darrel

A bitter/sweet New Year...

One day until New Years Eve. I wonder in my mind what each of you will do that night. I think about everything that goes with New years Eve and how we celebrate it each year. A family of tradition, we gather at my mom and dad's house, as we have every year for as long as I can remember. Not drinkers normally, few us of if any will have a mixed drink or wine cooler. But there will be a smoked Turkey and Pinwheels along with a delicious cheese and hamburger dip. There will be potato chips and crackers and black olives and a huge assortment of sweets to nibble on through out the night. We will play some pinochle and board games. The kids will run and play and make noise to try their best to drown out the laughter and chatter of the adults. They will loose that battle as they do every year.
This year, there will be new faces as marriages have happened and babies were born and new relationships have begun. All of these faces will gather at Mom and Dad's and we will watch the Ball go down on the television. The count down will be called out by those that have not fallen asleep waiting for 2008 to become 2009. We will all hug and smile and wish each other the best of everything in the coming year. And I will have before then, found a few moments, locked in a bathroom or outside smoking a cigarette, thinking and remembering. I will say a silent prayer that God keeps watch over fools and children. I will ask him to set angels in every car that is driven by someone that forgot we don't drink and drive. I will think about those loved ones that are no longer with us. About the kiss I felt on my lips every New Years Eve for 25 years and i will try so hard to remember that touch. I will cry alone so that it doesn't effect anyone elses celebration. I will try as i do every year to remember what her voice sounds like. I will wonder why she had to go to heaven instead of staying here with me. I still needed her and still depended on this beautiful lady. A lady, stronger in her wheelchair and filled with pain then I was standing and without that pain.
I will bring in this new year, 2009, with family and friends and will laugh and smile and wonder, like everyone, what the year will bring. Will i finally see that #1 best seller with my name on it? Will i get a letter from a record publisher saying they want to buy my songs? Will we travel a little and will fishing be better this year. And I will thank God for the blessings of the year past and the blessings that will come. Knowing I have my parents still with me. They celebrate 75 years of life and 57 years of marriage. What a wonderful blessing that is. My family close by and more love than any one man ever deserved, especially this one.
I pray the best of the new year to each and every one of you. God Bless and keep you all safe. Always, Darrel

nothing to write about....

Have you ever sat down, wanted sooo badly to write, even felt it inside of you but simply could not settle on anything solid enough to write? Welcome to my world this morning. We are not talking about minutes of think time. Not even just an Hour. I drug my butt out of bed at 5 a.m. and it is now nearly 9:30. And guess what... I have not written a single thing.
There is so much that could be written about. I thought about family and where they truly fit into my life. My mother and father, both 76 and still with us. That in itself would be worth writing about. the blessings I have received because they have been so many years in my life. The love that was shown me by them I am sure has saved me from so places I could have gone as I grew up. Even today, things they taught me about being kind and thinking before speaking help me in my every day life.
I thought about the religious background that I was so blessed to have been given. Knowing God and having him an active part of my life has without a doubt Saved my life many times. Times when the world seemed to have won and there was little reason for me to travel any further in this life. Times when he placed before me "walks" that I could choose to try or not try. Thinking about that for just a moment causes me to realize that it was many of those very "Walks" and the choices I made that formed the man that writes here for you today. The people that I chose to reach out to when no one else would. The trust that God had in me, to bring into my life people that would not always be able to stand for themselves and so I was blessed to be able to stand For them. Few blessings are more rewarding to the heart than those.
I thought about the eyes I was blessed to be for my brother. Maybe I could write and tell you how wonderful it felt inside to be able to teach a blind brother to climb a tree or run like he had sight. The wonder of his hand on my shoulder and how it could have been a burden or a blessing. I am glad that I chose the latter. Knowing he played baseball and cops and robbers like anyone else would still touches my heart and soul. And i could write how my heart hurts to know that so many years have passed by us and we have spoken perhaps 3 words to one another in the last 15 years. Only the memories for me are left and a sadness that we drifted so far away from one another. But no, I might save that for another day.
Maybe I would talk a bit more about My Sheila and the things I learned from her. Somethings you have heard and others... well somethings are just for me and my memories. They way she would wake me each day by setting a cup of coffee by the bed and lighting a cig and setting it in the ashtray for when I got up. The fact, the very knowing that she chose to do these things simply because she loved me so. I could tell you how her illness changed our lives together forever. Maybe how our love found ways to show our love an intimacy when her body was too ill to do more than that.
I might even write about the weather and how bitter cold and the ice storm has limited my abilities to do very much outside. how the smells of fireplaces intoxicated my mind this morning as I drove my daughter to work this a.m. The tree's had that heavy frost on them that is so very beautiful. Talk about the tree branches hanging low to the ground, the weight of the snow pulling them down. A little breeze that bites your face when you go outside. The way the snow lays in piles, looking like the little accessories to a model train set. But no, I won't write about that either. I am brain-locked for a subject to write about that is going to open up and explode and cause You to keep coming back to this site. After all, that is why a write, isn't it? To reach out and touch the world with my words? Too find ways to help you and to give myself some therapy. That is what my writing does for me. Perhaps I could have written a little about that. Told you how writing gives my soul a release and helps to keep my mind in check. But once again, no.
So I guess I will just not write about anything right now. Maybe something will come to me and then... I will write. Smilesssssssssss

A Chistmas Heart...

Christmas Eve... the day before everything explodes in blurs of wrapping paper being torn to sheds and gifts held up long enough to show and then on to the next present. Food will be laid out across the long table and smiling faces will adorn the seats around it. Too many conversations to stay in one very long and laughter drowning out the more meek in speech. Kids trying desperately to finish their plates so they can get back to the more important task of trying out every new toy. There is warmth in the house, but not from the furnace. It is a warmth that comes from with in everyone in the house. A glance at Grandma and Grandpa shows them both sitting quietly, holding hands and simply listening to their kids and grand kids chattering away. Their faces are the picture of contentment.
Food disappears and presents are exchanged, the biggest recipients being G-ma and G-pa. Their gifts show the love that their family holds in their hearts for them. They open each gift with care, no tearing or hurrying, just taking time for each gift. The smiles and thank you's give all the children reasons to smile. The house becomes loud again as the gifts are all gathered and clean-up begins. No one afraid to reach out a hand, some giving their time to entertaining g-ma and g-pa. What a beautiful site to behold.
Now, if you will, let me paint your mind and heart with another Christmas portrait. It is Midnight, Christmas Eve. The onslaught of family has not happened yet. The only sounds are those of the wood crackling in the fireplace. The smells of pine and cinnamon fill the air as you sit, snuggled in a warm blanket and watch the flames go from red to orange to blue and back to red again. The wood turns bright red as the flames lick at it. A shadow dances on the wall, looking like a Hula girl, dancing her best dance for you. Only your finger-tips show and they are lovingly wrapped around the handle of a warm cup of hot cocoa. The picture window is like a huge movie screen, the snowflakes big as quarters are the entertainers. They dance and float and some are captured by a tiny breeze and swept across the stage. The pureness of their white covers looks like a sheet that has been bleached and is now blowing in the wind to dry.
A voice, soft as the breeze itself whispers in your ear. Love words, delicate and sweet, are spoken. The warmth of the fire is only matched now by the glow of your cheeks. You sip your cocoa and listen to the soft coo in your ear. You hold open your blanket and are joined by the one you love. Closing it around you, you feel your hand surrounded and intertwined with another. Snuggling closer, you smile with delight at the words now whispered. None more beautiful, few ever spoken to you this way. The fire slowly dies down and you hold one another closer. The cocoa now gone, a new whisper fills your heart with love and splendor.
The blanket is now opened and two figures stand. Outside the picture window, two deer, one a beautiful Doe, the other... her love. His antlers spread out like a chandelier, his head held high as he looks at his Love. they look at you and you at them and then you watch as they slowly are engulfed by the forest that is your backyard. A special touch and eyes that look into yours, saying "let's go hold one another and meld together, Love... Before the morning comes and the house is filled with our loved ones." You smile gently, a tender touch to your cheek. A door is closed and the world is shut out for now. Tomorrow... It is Christmas Day.
I am wishing you ALL the most beautiful Christmas and may all of your dreams and wishes come true for you. Peace be on Earth and a prayer for Goodwill to All. Pray for our soldiers that will be home in our hearts and theirs. Pray for those that have nowhere to spend their Christmas, that a kind soul finds them and offers them a meal. And pray for our world, as it fights to survive, that one day we no longer need to fight. Take a moment to say Thank you to our Father in heaven for giving to us his own Son. We celebrate the birth of Christ Jesus tomorrow. Remember Him, for he came and he died for Us. Love in him to you All. Darrel

A Christmas Picture

It's morning again. Nearly Christmas Eve. I sit here and think about all of my Christmas pasts. 48 of them have come and gone for me, number 49 only days away. I don't remember the first few but my memory is sharp from my past. I have been blessed with the ability to remember so much of my childhood. I think of all the changes that have transpired since my first Christmas. So many blessings along the way. So many different ways and places to celebrate the season. Starting life remembering Christmas in 75 degree weather in Miami Florida. People think I am nuts sometimes {well they aren't wrong} when I tell them we had watermelon with our Christmas meal. It was beautiful weather and I did not even know what snow felt like then. I loved fishing even way back then and would get fishing equipment for gifts. While the family whiled the morning away making Christmas dinner, I was busy fishing.
We moved to Arizona for two years and I found out a little about what snow looked like and felt like. Not too much but I wasn't fishing at Christmas time. We moved back to Florida for a while and then... we moved to Canada. Not just Anywhere, Canada. We moved 25 miles back in the Purcell Mountains of British Columbia where we had a cattle ranch. Ok, now we have a culture shock happening. We left Florida the end of September. Still beautiful weather and wondering what the heck we were going to do with Sheep lined heavy coats. How cold could it possibly get back in those mountains? COLD!!!!!!!!! That is how cold. We arrived at our new home in the mountains on Oct 3rd. We had a blizzard on Oct. 4th. More snow than I knew could fall and the coat found it's way easily to my body.
Christmas again had changed for us. We now had the most beautiful living Christmas postcard a mind could imagine. The tallest Pines and the most beautiful Poplar trees a man could imagine were covered in the purest white snow. The ground blanketed in the same beauty, not a footprint marring it's untainted scenery. On the hill, just in front of our log cabin stood a Bull Elk, his majestic Antlers touching the tip of his rump as he raised his head to Bugle. Three females running towards him, their heads high as they trotted along the marshes. Blue Jays and Mocking birds, their colors so bright against the just rising Sun, flew across the fields, almost touching the ground before flying off to their nests. The Sun itself was just touching the tops of the mountains, giving way to the thought they might be on fire. A Thomas Kincaid painting? No, not at all. This was Christmas morning in the mountains and the artist was God himself. He painted such a perfect portrait, one had to take a breath in before looking at more of his painting.
Unable to get into town except for once or twice in the winter, gifts were mostly hand-made and something warm. Very welcome and made from the heart gifts that gave a whole new meaning to Christmas for me. The gift of giving from the heart was now planted in my heart forever. Each Christmas a different place, a different way but always, one thing remained. Every Christmas was the celebration of God's most wonderful and precious gift. The birth of his son, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Today, I sit and watch the Sun come up over this tiny town I live in.It shines bright on the towns tall court-house tower clock. The ice pictures that Jack frost painted on my windows last night are slowly disappearing and I can see outside clearly. In a few days, we will again celebrate the birth of Jesus. A different place, a different way, even new faces and the memories of those watching from heaven will keep these tears flowing for a moment. The one thing that has always been and that will never change is that Jesus Christ is celebrated on Christmas Day. He is the reason we have Christmas Day. I hope that each of you feel the spirit of Christmas in your hearts. I hope that I have painted for you a picture of beauty for Christmas. May the very best of the season bless each and everyone one of you. from my heart to yours... Darrel

A Walk for Christmas Pt6

The sounds of the rifle echoed through the woods. Just as Jake was about to tell the man what he knew, he too heard the shots. the expression on the mans face changed immediately. The sorrow was replaced by a look of pure anger.
"I guess someone has decided to come looking again!" He reached out and grabbed his rifle. "I am not going to put up with this any longer. people need to leave me alone!"
"Wait, there is something I need to tell you. Something very important. Hell, I am fighting for my life here! You owe me a minute of time, Ian."
Ian turned around and looked at Jake. There was puzzlement in his face. He lowered his rifle slowly. He walked over to the table and looked down at Jake.
"ow do you know my name!?! Are you hiding something from me. I swear to God if you are I Will kill you."
"No, no, I am not hiding anything from you.I remember reading an article about you and your wife.It told about the attack and that authorities wanted to find you. Ian, I don't think the doctor was even going to press charges. You may be a free man if you would just get out of here and talk to the authorities."
"What would I do if I did get out of here? I don't have anything out there to go to."
"You have your children Ian! You could go get them and start living your life with them."
A shot rang out again. This time, the sound was much closer to the cabin. Ian turned and picked his rifle up again. he walked towards the door with the Anger back in his eyes.
"Are you listening to me!?! Did you hear what I said!?!"
Ian turned and pushed Jake to the ground. He held the rifle to Jake's chest. The redness in his eyes looked like a fire was burning inside of them.
"I heard you! Right now, I have issues to tend to. I am going to shoot who-ever it is that has decided to come look me up. And then... I might just decide to Kill you!"
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Mark looked down at the wolf he had shot. He felt terrible about shooting such a beautiful creature but it was going to kill Ellie. Arms wrapped around him and he discharged another shell. This one went into the wall of the cabin,
"Damn Ellie, you need to be careful when I have this thing in my hands. If there is someone in that cabin, they are going to think we are shooting at them!"
"I am so sorry, Mark, I didn't mean to make you shoot the rifle. I just wanted to thank you for shooting the wolf. He really was going to kill me!"
"Mark, we need to see if anyone is in the cabin or not. My legs are starting to lock up on me from the cold. I need to find somewhere to warm them."
"I am going to go and see if anyone is inside. If it is empty we will find a way in."
As Mark began to step out of the woods, the doorway of the cabin opened up. Light flooded the front of the door and cascaded out into the darkness. Mark watched in silence as a huge man filled the doorway, blocking nearly the entire light that had flooded the outside. Mark shrunk back into the trees. He could see a rifle in the mans hand. A voice roared out that sent Mark as far back in the trees as his mother and sister were,
"I don't know who you are and I care even less! I am going to come out and kill you! I have had enough of your bothersome soul!"
Mark and his family laid down in the snow. they could hear the sounds of the bullets whizzing over their heads. Mark could hear Ellie crying into the snow.She was saying a prayer to God also, asking him to watch over them. Mark reached back with his free hand and took Ellie's in his.
"We are going to be fine, Sis, I promise." With that said, Mark stood up. He could see the man's face now. Mark decided it was now or never. He stepped out of the trees, his hands held high above his head. "I am coming out! Please don't shoot. We weren't shooting at you, I swear.I was killing a wolf that was attacking my sister. She and my Mom are here with me. We are looking for a man."
Another shot rang out. Mark felt the sting almost before he heard the shot fired. It spun him around and tossed him to the ground. Ian heard the screams of a woman.
"Stop damn you! Didn't you hear him!?! He said we weren't here to hurt you! He didn't do anything to you! Now you shot him! What the hell is wrong with you???"
Ian heard Jake moving behind him. Ian raced to the door and tried to shove Ian out of the way. Ian was too big but Jake tried. Ian shoved back and knocked Jake against the wall.
"Where the hell do you think you are going!? get away from the door!"
"That is my family out there! You just shot my Son!"
Ian stared at Jake for a minute and then stepped to one side. "Go out there and bring them into the cabin. We can fix your boy."
Jake pushed past Ian without saying another word. he ran through the snow as if it were dry dirt. "Mark, Mark... it is dad. Where are you?" He heard the cries of his daughter now. "Ellie, come out of the trees. It is safe. Ian won't hurt you, I promise!"
Ellie pushed her way past Mark. She ran from the trees directly into her fathers arms. He held her tight against him as tears streamed from his eyes. "What are you doing here?
"We came to find you! Mom said there was no way you were dead. She is with us too."
Jake looked up to see the face of his wife, smiling and crying. he walked to her just as her legs gave out again. he picked her up in his arms and held her tight. He kissed her deeply and this time... she kissed him back.
"I knew you were alive love. My heart would have told me if you were not. I love you so much, Jake." She buried her face in his shoulder and cried.
They walked into the cabin and Mark introduced them to Ian. The bullet had only torn a small piece of Mark's shoulder. It would heal without any problems. Ian started a fire to warm the cabin. He tended to Mark's shoulder while Sarah warmed her legs by the fire. The anger had gone from Ian's eyes. It had been replaced by sadness. He watched as Jake held his wife close to his chest.
"We will start walking out of here as soon as your wife is ready. I will take you to the opening so you can get out of here."
"Come with us Ian. You can find your children and live the rest of your life out with them."
"I think they are best where they are, Jake. I need to stay right where I am."
"You are wrong Mister. Those kids need their father. They need to know you are alright. If you think they aren't worried about you, then you are very wrong. I came through hell just now to find my father. I bet your kids would do the same if they knew where you were."
Ian looked at Ellie and then shook his head. "Maybe I will follow you out."
They stayed in the cabin through the night, letting Sarah's legs fully rest. The walk in the morning was long and silent. The drive to Denver was filled with questions and answers and talk of Christmas. Once home and settled, Jake took Ian to the local authorities. It took 3 days to figure everything out, but in the end, Ian was a free man. With only 2 days left before Christmas, Jake drove Ian to his sisters house. Jake watched him as he slowly walked up and knocked on the door. A pretty young girl opened the door. The look on her face was priceless. Without saying a word, she reached out and touched Ian's face. With tears streaming down her face, she embraced him and then yelled to her brother. he came and reached out to shake Ian's hand. Ian motioned for Jake to come to the house and together they told their story.
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Christmas Day: The house was noisy and filled with the smells of Christmas dinner. Jake handed Ian the knife. "You are the carver here. Please, won't you carve the turkey?" They all laughed at Jake's remark.
"If you could have seen the look on your face when I was ummm, working with that wolf... It really was a Kodak moment. If I never thanked you and your family properly, Jake, then let me do it now. If not for the beautiful love that your family has for you, I might never have been here having Christmas with my family. Thank you to each and everyone of you. You made this Christmas more special than any I can remember."
"We are glad that it all worked out. We both got our families back," Jake said as he kissed Sarah. And we were back in time to see the Christmas play together. What will you do now, Ian?"
"Well it seems that my boy found a way a year ago to buy my old store back. We will run the business together now."
The turkey was carved and food handed around the table. Christmas... never looked so good.

Merry Christmas to All of you, no matter how you celebrate it. Always, Darrel

A Walk for Christmas Pt.5

Jake drank his coffee as he was told. He wasn't sure whether to drink it fast or slow. The only thing he was certain of was that he needed to remember who he was. He also knew he needed to get away from this man. He watched as the man stripped the hide off of the wolf. Jake knew the man had done this more times than Jake had probably driven a car. Perhaps if Jake could get on his good side, that was assuming the man had one, he could talk his way out of whatever was coming his way.
"I remember, that I am not from around here." Jake fumbled with his words uncertain if they would bring conversation or anger from the man. "I think I am from Denver or some place near there. I keep seeing images that remind me of Denver, though I don't have a clue why?"
The man set his knife down on the table and turned slowly towards Jake. Jake moved back a bit, unsure what was about to happen. The man looked at Jake and then turned to pour a cup of coffee for himself. "I don't know who you are mister. I don't even know how you got here except that you Might have fallen out of an invisible car. What I do know is that you ain't a Ranger. You are too talky for that. You ain't snoopin' around with your eyes to see what I got here. I ain't stupid totally."
"Why are you living back here alone?"
The man reached across the table with a speed so fast Jake never even saw his hand move until it was around the back of Jake's head. The man pulled Jake up near his face. Jake could feel his body tense and the fear ran all through his body and mind. Jake could see the mans eyes, red and harsh as he snarled his teeth at Jake. He wondered if he would have stood a better chance with the wolf.
"I don't like questions asked of me. They make me a little crazy! I might just moosh your head if I take the notion!"
"I didn't mean anything by the question! I was just trying to make conversation! I have not done anyone any harm. All I want to do is get back to where-ever it is I came from. I swear to you, I am no threat to you. Please..."
The man let go of Jake's neck. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Jake for a moment. He drank down his coffee and then motioned to Jake. "If you want more, get it! I ain't gonna serve you!"
Jake stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee. A flash of Sarah's face came to his mind again. This time, he was certain he knew her. Knew her like he would his wife or daughter. He tried hard to think and bring the image back, but it was gone.
"I been back here near fifteen years. I was like you once, all fancy dressed and stuff. Had a wife and some kids too." His words brought quick images of a boy and a girl to Jake. More seemed to come back as the man talked. "We was happy and rich then. I had my own store, what you could buy house stuff."
"A furniture store?"
"No, it was a hardware store, now I recall."
"What happened? Did you lose it or sell it?"
"I gave it all up and came here." The man seemed to mellow as he spoke. Jake decided this was a good time to just sit and listen. "My wife was pretty and my kids loved me. They was young and after she left, I couldn't take care of them. I gave 'em to my sister and left. They cried hard but I had to do it."
"What about your wife? Where was she?"
The man looked towards the wall behind Jake and nodded. Jake turned to see a picture of a beautiful woman. Her auburn hair and green eyes sent Jake's mind reeling. He could see clearly the image of the woman in the chair now. She too had auburn hair and the greenest eyes a man had ever looked in to. His wife, he was certain and this mans wife brought it partially back to him.
"That was her when we were together. She died when she young... too young. She got Cancer and it ate her up in one year. I didn't hardly have time to talk to her about the kids or nothing. Her doctor didn't tell her there was stuff to help keep her with us longer. He just let her die! I went to him and asked him why. He told me that he didn't think she should suffer a lot. "HE" decided that for us. I went nuts and beat him real bad. He wasn't gonna live and I needed my kids to be safe."
Jake looked at this behemoth of a man that stood in front of him. Tears rolled down the mans face and he wiped his nose on his blood covered sleeve.
"Did the police come to get you? Is that why you ran back here?"
"I Didn't Run, Damn you!!!!!" The man grabbed Jake again and tossed him across the cabin. Jake's head hit the wall and he slid down to the floor. The pain was incredible. As he slowly opened his eyes, blood trickling from his head, everything came back to him. Sarah, Mark and Ellie were so vivid. He could see his house and remembered the way he had left Sarah. He stood slowly and looked at the man in front of him.
"I never ran," the man said in a calmer voice. "I did what I had to so my kids would have a life. I didn't want them put in a home with people they didn't know. I just wanted them to be happy." The man sat against the wall and sobbed. "Why did you have to come around and remind me!? Why didn't you just die in that wreck?"
Jake sat back in his chair. He thought for a minute, not sure if he dared speak or not. The story he was going to tell this man might cost Jake his life.
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The creatures in the trees were getting braver as the three walked along the trail. They could hear them fighting and growling as they ran to keep up with Mark and his families pace. Suddenly, directly in front of them, on the trail were two wolves. They had planted their paws solidly in the snow and were half crouched. Mark knew that they were preparing to attack. Mark aimed the rifle at the biggest one. As the wolves began to move forward, Mark fired a shot. At the same time, he heard his mother scream. Watching the first wolf fall to the ground, Mark spun around towards his mother. Another wolf had grabbed her by the sleeve on her Jacket. Unsteady on her legs, the wolf pulled her to the ground and began dragging her.
"Stop it, Mark!!! Shoot that thing before it kills Mom! Shoot it!"
"I don't want to hit Mom! Just watch the other one behind me, Sis."
"It is gone Mark, just the dead one is there! God, please help Mom!"
Mark ran forward, the rifle held by it's butt and hit the wolf in the forehead. The wolf pulled away and let go of Sarah. Mark fired off another shot but missed the wolf. It ran off, back into the safety of the trees. Mark helped Sarah off the ground and she collapsed against him. She was sobbing as he felt Ellie's arms go around them. Nothing was spoken. Nothing needed to be said. They walked on as if nothing had happened, determined to find Jake. The cabin appeared out of no-where. They decided to stay in the safety of the trees until they felt safe enough to find who was living in the cabin. They were scared to go forward and even more afraid to stay where they were.

A Walk for Christmas Pt 4

The roads had become slippery the closer they got to Aspens. As the 4WD rounded a bend just twelve miles from Aspens, Mark saw something swinging near the edge of the road. He slowed down and turned the spotlight on the edge. There, illuminated by the lights was yellow police tape tied to a large rope.
"This has to be the place where Dad went over, Mom. You two stay inside for a minute while I have a look."
"Please, please be careful Mark. I don't want to have to go looking for you too. Your sister and I will wait here until you get back in."
Mark walked through the deep snow, stepping slowly so he didn't go to near to the edge. Looking over the ledge, Mark could see long scrapings on the side of the cliff where it looked as if something had slid all the way down the wall. He was certain now that this was where his father had gone over. As he looked into the deep ravine, he wondered how anyone could survive such a fall. He would keep those thoughts to himself. He walked back to the truck and got in.
"This is for sure where he went over. It doesn't look too bad but we will need to find a different way down. This way didn't seem to work to good for Dad."
They all looked at each other for a moment, then laughed. A laugh they needed right about then. "Where do you think we can get into the ravine, Mark?"
"I saw a road about 2 miles back. It looked as if it went down the mountain, Sis. I am sure I saw tire tracks. We can go back there and see where it takes us. At least we know we aren't far from where we need to be. "Mark maneuvered the truck around and drove back to the road he had seen. The tire tracks were barely visible but there had been a vehicle or two through there. "Probably the rangers or whatever that went looking for Dad. We will follow the road as far as we can."
"Mom... are you sure you want to go down there with us? We can go to Aspens first and get a motel room. You could wait there for us, if you would feel safer there."
Sarah smiled tenderly at Ellie. She touched her hand to Ellie's face. "No Ellie, I have never felt safer than I do with you and your brother. I want to be right with you where-ever we go here. Besides, all I would do is panic in a motel room until I heard from you again. Let's stay together and find your father."
Mark drove down the road until it leveled off. There was a cliff wall that didn't allow any vehicles past where they stopped. He got out of the truck and walked around a bit. He returned to the truck and explained what he had found.
"There is a trail that leads all the way around this cliff wall. I don't know how far you can walk in this snow Mom."
"I will be fine, Mark. Let's take a few blankets and matches. If we need too, we can stop and warm up for a while. I know your father is here. I can feel him in my soul."
Mark reached into the back of the truck. He pulled out a rifle and two lanterns.
"Mark, where did you get that rifle!? You know how much I hate those things."
"The way I see it Mom, we don't want to be out here in the dark very badly without something to protect us. It is one of Dad's hunting rifles. We may be glad we had it with us if a hungry bear comes along."
"Oh Mark, don't even say that! God, I have already imagined getting eaten by some creature out here. Jeeze!"
"We will be fine, Sis, I promise."
Carrying lanterns, the three made their way along the wall. Sounds of something running through the trees beside them made Mark glad he had brought the rifle along. It gave both the ladies a feeling of safety too though neither would say so. They had walked about a mile into the woods when marks lantern beam shined on something in the snow. He told the girls to stay where they were until he could check it out but they didn't listen to him. As they all got closer to what Mark had found, a gasp echoed as it slipped out of Ellie's mouth.
"Is that what I think it is, Mark? Is that freaking blood!?!"
Moving closer to the huge red spot in the snow, they could see part of a jacket laying in the snow. Mark reached down to pick it up. He could see there had something laying in the snow. A body from the shape in the snow. Mark handed the torn cloth to Sarah. She held it too her face, oblivious to the blood on it. She smelled the cloth and began to cry.
"It is your fathers scent. He was here before we got here."
"But all of the blood, Mom! What does it mean?!?"
"It means your father is alive, Ellie... that is what it means. That is all you need to think about. We are going to keep walking in the same direction as those footprints in front of us."
"It looks like there are two sets of prints here Mom."
"Someone may have found your father and taken him to safety. The are other tracks but I can not make them out. We are just going to keep walking."
As they walked in the direction the footprints led, Mark couldn't help hearing the sounds of running in the trees beside them. He also had looked closer at the tracks his mother could not make out. He had scene Wolf tracks before. He walked on in silence.
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The man had picked Jake up and carried him part of the way to where he took him. Jake wasn't sure what he was to think of his rescuer. He was not friendly and he handled Jake roughly. He had dragged the wolf carcass along with them. They had reached a small cabin that appeared out of no-where. Inside, Jake saw it had only a wood stove and planks that made up a bed. There were a couple of chairs sitting around a large tree stump. A make-shift table that seemed to fit perfectly with the rest of the cabin. The man put a pot with coffee grounds in it on the stove. He stoked the stove full of wood and then hung the lantern on a nail on the wall. His voice was low and intimidating.
"Ya say you don't know your own name? How can that be?"
"I must have hit my head or something when I fell."
"Yea, I was about to ask about that. Were you walking or something when you got attacked?"
"I don't remember. I have little minutes of remembrance so I know I was in a car that went over the edge. I don't remember much after that. I do remember a woman but she has no legs."
"That must be from the wreck but I didn't see no car. You sure you ain't a Ranger come looking for me!?"
Jake moved away from the man as he leaned into Jake's face. The man genuinely scared him. "I am not a Ranger and I have no clue who you are."
"How do you know you ain't if you can't remember your own name? The last Ranger what came looking for me has still not been found. I think I might have to give him some company. Don't know if i can keep you alive to tell the authorities where I am. We will have to see after we have a cup of coffee. You might as well enjoy that cup. That might be it for you.

A Walk for Christmas

The drive to Aspens was filled with excitement and silent prayers. Ten days before Christmas would be upon them. Sarah wondered if she was doing right by dragging her kids out on what could be a wild Goose chase. What happens if they get there and Jake's body has been found? What does she tell her children then? Would they blame her for his death? Would they ever be able to find it in themselves to look at her again, let alone love her? She had to push these thoughts back. Positive thoughts were all she could afford to have right now.
"Mom, do we know where we are going? How do we even know where Dad's car went off?
"I talked to the police before we left, Mark. They told me they were keeping the area roped off until they could get back to it. We should see the roped area before we get into town."
"Are you sure you can do this mom?"
"This is about your Father, Ellie. I Will do it and we Will find him! And then, we will go back home and we will begin living again. I spoke with Dr.Greely too. He was not happy to hear what I was planning. He wanted to see me first. I asked him if my legs were capable of walking without issue and he said they always were."
Sarah omitted the part where he told her that for a time, her legs could simply collapse until the muscles rebuilt. It was something she neither cared to believe nor felt the kids needed to hear. If it happened, then it happened.
"Mom..." Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder. "I am so sorry for the way I have..."
Sarah shushed her daughter in the tenderest tone she had. "There are no sorries in this, Ellie. I have been a fool for too long. IF you can see past that for me, then all is as it should be."
"I love you Mom! I have always loved you. We will find Daddy and bring him home." Sarah felt Ellie sobbing against her shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to hold her daughter and let her feel all her love.
"Alright you two. You need to stop this or I will be crying next. I need clear eyes to see in this stuff."
Sarah looked up and saw the snow covering the road in front of them. The headlights made it clear that they were driving straight into a storm. She closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed for their safe travel and she prayed for the man that had held her heart for as long as she could remember.
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Jake had made his way past the icy edges of the rock wall. He could feel the burning in his arm. He was glad he had worn a heavy coat, where ever it was he had been going. Short moments of images flashed through his mind. None long enough to put a name to. She was beautiful, he knew that. He was confused at why he never saw her legs. The image always appeared to be sitting in a chair. The sounds of the trees creaking in the wind bothered him. He was far enough down to not feel it, but he could still hear it's fierceness. Suddenly there was a sound behind him. Branches snapped and snow was being drudged through. The sound came closer with each snap of the branches. Jake searched the ground for a weapon. A branch or pointed stick, anything to protect himself against whatever it was that followed him. He found some rocks sticking out from the snow. Quickly he kicked at them until two broke loose. He reached down and scooped them into his hands.
"Come on, whatever you are, I am not going to be an easy meal. You will be too tired to eat me when you are finished with me!" The small Jack-pine in front of him bent to the sides. He heard the low growls before he saw their eyes. There was no doubt in his mind what they were. One of the wolves had moved to the backside of him. The other now stood in front of him. The pink of it's gums was showing, just above the set of razor sharp teeth that glistened in the moonlight. Growling and shaking it's head from side to side, it made a half circle around Jake. The wolf behind him held it's position as if only trying to make sure Jake did not move. The wolf in front suddenly crouched just as Jake tossed one of the rocks at it's head. Hitting it directly in the head, the wolf cried out once and shook it's head. And then, it leaped directly at Jake, fangs bared and eyes raging with anger and hunger. Jake threw the other rock. He heard a loud Crack! The sound shook the snow beneath his feet. Tree branches, filled with snow shuddered and dropped the snow from their clutches. Surely he had not hit the wolf that hard. He had closed his eyes just as the wolf had lept at him. He felt the weight of the creature on him as he fell to the ground. He waited for the second wolf to join in, but no second attack came. The first wolf laid on Jake's body, it's weight pinning him to the ground. Jake could feel something warm running onto his stomach where his jacket had torn open. He touched it with his fingers. Warm and sticky. The blood ran over his body. He knew somehow that the blood was not his own. But how? Jake slowly opened his eyes. He stared into the blank, opened eyes of the wolf. He heard another sound above him. Jake turned towards the shuffling of snow, expecting to see the face of the second wolf. Instead, he was looking up at a man. A man that looked as if he had not seen civilization in a very long time. The man was holding a rifle in one hand. He kicked the body of the wolf off of Jake.
"Looks like you got yourself into a mess. Much as I don't like them wolves eating folks, I don't really like folks either."