Homemade Sourdough Bread

Can we talk about sourdough bread?  A few months ago, I watched a documentary on Netflix about Dan Buettner’s Secrets of the Blue Zones, revealing 12 habits that can add years to your life.  At 64 years of age, adding years to my life and my husband’s life sounds very appealing.  I found the documentary to be very interesting.  As you might expect, there is a lot of emphasis on eating better, getting exercise, and reducing stress, among other things.  The segment about the people from a mountainous area of Sardinia introduced me to homemade sourdough bread.  I love bread!  Could I too make sourdough bread?

Let me start off by saying, I know nothing about making any kind of bread.  I think I made a loaf of bread in home economics class in 1973, but I remember nothing about it and I have never made bread since.  These days, my “go to” to learn about how to do many things is YouTube.  My husband taught himself how to make quilts on YouTube, surely it can instruct me on how to make sourdough bread.

What I learned very quickly with my research on YouTube was that I had to create something called “a starter” and that I had to “feed” it.  What in the world?  And this process of getting the “starter” strong enough to make bread could take 5-10 days.  I was told to “be patient” if it takes longer.  I have to tell you, creating that starter almost kicked my butt. 

I began this process on January 7.  I followed my recipe, this many grams of water and this many grams of flour, stir, cover, let sit in a warm location, but not too warm, and repeat the process in 24 hours….  I thought I started off pretty good.  You know your starter is active if it has bubbles and it grows.  The instructions told me that the starter would be ready to bake with when it at least doubled in size.  The final test to see if it was ready was to take a small spoonful of the starter and drop it into a cup of water.  If it floats, it is ready.  Sounds easy enough right???   WRONG!!!

On day five of this process, I noticed my starter was not doing anything.. I didn’t see any bubbles like I had seen the previous day and it didn’t look very thick.  I learned that this is normal and not to panic.  But I didn’t know not to panic on day five.  I fed the starter and it began to have a good reaction again.  It was apparently hungry…

On day seven of the instructions, it indicated my starter should be ready to bake bread.  It wasn’t.  I gave it a few more days and it still wasn’t ready.  So, I started over.

This time I used organic whole wheat flour, instead of just unbleached all-purpose flour.  I also found a different recipe to follow to get this one going and get a first bake in.  I found a gal on YouTube who said that if your starter was slow, you could add a pinch of instant dry yeast to her recipe.  I printed off her recipe and was going to try it.  My new starter was bubbling and growing each day but it would not pass the “float” test. 

I am now on day 7 of my second attempt at this “starter” stuff and I am getting anxious and frustrated.  Is it ever going to be ready to bake with?  I made the decision that I was going to get out the new recipe and use the instant dry yeast and make some bread!!!

I followed the printed recipe and mixed the dough together.  The recipe said the dough would be very wet and that it was normal.  It was to sit overnight and then I would be able to proof the next morning and then bake.  When I got up the next morning, the dough had indeed risen but it was still very wet.  I started trying to work the dough to get it into a ball, but it was so wet that it was very difficult to do.  This was a no-knead recipe so I wasn’t too worried.  I did finally get it baked and it wasn’t terrible, but I know I can do better. 

After I sampled the bread. I went back and rewatched the video instructions on what I was supposed to do.  Well guess what, the written instructions were quite a bit different from what she did on the video.  How come the instructions don’t match what she is showing on her channel?  I threw her recipe away and found another person to follow.

I had enough incomplete starter left to keep working on it.  Finally on January 29, my starter floated.  I got my new recipe from Baker Betty and her written instructions matched exactly what she showed on her YouTube channel.  The next day I began preparing my starter and made my dough.  Today I did the final proofing and baked bread.  It was beautiful and it tasted great.

I did it.  I made sourdough bread.  Thank you, Baker Betty.  I can’t wait to try it again.

Our First Time to see Professional Pickleball Players

If you have ever read my blog, you know that I’m crazy about pickleball.  My husband and I play six or seven times a week and we just love it.  On the weekends, after pickleball of course, I’m watching the professional players competing on YouTube whether it be PPA, APP or MLP.  All pickleball acronyms for the various groups of professional pickleball.

Yesterday, professional pickleball came to Frisco, Texas!  My husband and I bought courtside tickets and crossed the Red River into Texas to watch.  Of course, I have my favorite players.  Watching all of them week in and week out, you almost think you know them.  You know their quirks, their special plays, and what shots they are really good at.  We have friends in our pickleball circle that have already had the opportunity to see the pros in action.  The one thing that have all said about their experience is that the ball is moving much faster in person than on TV. And they were correct. 

We arrived just short of 10 am., showed our tickets, got our courtside seat armbands, and wandered into the venue at the Lifetime Fitness Center in Frisco.  Immediately to our right were the courts being used by the pros to do their round robin event prior to bracket play. And who do we see on the first court when we walk in?  Jessie Ervine and Jay Devilliers!  They were playing against a team we did not know but were also very good.  Not good enough though.  Yes, the ball moved faster but that was not what struck me.  What struck me was the absolute ease and precision of the players.  Jessie Ervine’s dink game was mind-blowing.  It looked effortless and it was very effective.  Jay’s reaction time to all balls being hit at him at great speed was amazing.  He was returning crazy shots before my eyes could even figure out where the ball was going.

As we stood there, just inside of the entrance, I looked to our left and there was Megan Dizon, who I have come to enjoy watching over the last few months.  Looking through the courts, there was Riley Newman and Catherine Parenteau. To say that I was start-stuck would be an understatement.

By the time my husband could pull me away from the fence to go find our courtside seats, the action was getting ready to start on center court.  This was a place that rotated teams in and out and what was seen on the PPA YouTube channel.  This is what I’m normally home in my recliner watching.  There were a couple of sections of seats and my husband and I found ourselves on the front row at about the 45 yard line, if you will.  The ref is standing at the 50 yard line….    I looked across the court to the broadcast booth and there was Dave Fleming, the guy that does the broadcast I watch on YouTube every weekend.

I have to tell you that this was an amazing experience.   The players were right in front of us.  From this vantage point we could really see all aspects of the game.  It was great to see just how this level of player plays the game vs the rec play my husband and I do.  But you can always learn from watching them and how they execute plays.  Their plays are strategic, where my play is reactive many times.   While we were sitting there we got to see Jessie and Jay again, along with Riley Newman/Catherine Parenteau, Megan Dizon/Spencer Smith, and Tyson McGuffin/Lea Jansen. 

After sitting through five or six games, there was a lull in the action.  Bracket play was about to start, and we were getting hungry.  We went to the food vendor, grabbed our food, and headed back in.  This time we opted to find seat out of the sun.  It was 90 degrees in Frisco yesterday and I could feel my skin starting to burn.    On the south end of the court there were three rows of seats under a canopy in the shade.  We got lucky and found two seats on row 2 and our view of the game changed.  From this vantage point, the servers were standing about 10 feet from us.  Some liked to interact with the crowd, especially Jay Devilliers and Tyson McGuffin.  The crowd loved it, and they got the reactions they wanted.  I found myself not cheering for certain teams, but at whoever hit a great shot and there were lots of great shots.

Jessie Ervine & Jay Develliers

Now if you are a pickleball fan, you have noticed by now that I have left out a lot of great players.  What about Ben Johns and Anna Leigh Waters?  Not there.  What about Lucy Kovolova and Matt Wright?  Not there.  And the list goes one.  This particular event was added to the PPA lineup late in the year and some players didn’t play for whatever reason.  However, I did get to see many of my favorites so there was no disappointment here.  Truth be known, if everyone had been there yesterday, it might have been an overload for me. 

In November the pros return to Rockwall, Texas for another big event.  We already have our tickets and are ready for more great pickleball action.   

Retirement is Looming!

Four weeks from today I will begin a new journey, retirement. I have spent over 26 years as the secretary to the superintendent of our local school district. My school district actually. The one I attended and both of my children attended. I have been an Ardmore Tiger all my life. I have poured my blood, sweat, and yes tears into this job. It has been anything but boring. It has been challenging, rewarding, stressful and at times unbearable. There are so many aspects of the job I dearly love, but just as many in the end that I just couldn’t handle anymore. Can you say “burn out?” I’m there.

I have had the opportunity to work for five different superintendents and 19 different school board members. You know they say “change” is a four-letter word. But if you can’t roll with the change, you are in the wrong job. Sometimes change was good, and sometimes change was hard. Sometimes it was a breath of fresh air and sometimes, it was tough coming to work. Regardless of who my boss was, my job stayed pretty much the same, assisting the superintendent with their vision for the school district. I did that to the best of my ability and I’m proud of the things I accomplished while in that position.

So here I am at 62 years young and I’m retiring. I never planned on retiring at this age. When COVID hit here in Oklahoma and the country shut down, including all schools, my husband and I worked from home a lot. Some days we went in to work and some days we could just work from home. We spent an enormous amount of time together, just us. We went for walks, rode our ebikes, played pickleball by ourselves, cooked meals together, watched a lot of Netflix, and spent some quality time on our back patio. I absolutely loved it! Just me and my best friend in the whole world. I began to think that I could do this every day. Then I began to yearn to do this every day. I finally said out loud, “I think I might want to retire.”

Eventually, I shared my revelation with my boss and the office. I was giving them a little over a year and a half to adjust to the idea and to find my replacement. So the countdown to retirement officially began. We have a small office of five staff members. Our receptionist and my dear friend Kathleen also decided to retire. She has been with the school district for 33 years! We are going out together. We were so excited so I made us a “countdown” calendar starting July 1, 2021! Every day one of us goes into the breakroom and marks off another day. We have had a lot of fun doing that. We are so close we can taste it.

So I have had this vision in my mind about getting my office ready for someone else to come in and take over and getting someone trained. I began preparing notes and a “things to know” notebook, getting files straightened up, and just preparing to hand everything over and to have closure. Well three weeks into the countdown, my boss had to take an extended medical leave. That changed the trajectory of everything. He was out of the office for six months. Unsure of whether he would get to return or not, nothing was done about looking for a replacement for me or a timeline that we would. Ok, I’m not panicking yet.

We worked through a very difficult six months in the office when the boss returned in mid-January. While we were all thrilled to see him, we knew pretty quickly that his health was probably not going to let him continue in his capacity as the superintendent. Because the “powers that be” weren’t sure if he was staying or going, putting off posting my job and finding my replacement continued. Panicking a little now…..

In my boss’s absence, our assistant superintendent became the acting superintendent. We all knew that if something happened and “the boss” couldn’t return, she was fully capable of doing the job. And what I didn’t know at the time, was that if she did become the superintendent, her intention was to bring her current secretary with her. To make a long story short, the “boss” did decide to retire and go enjoy his life without the stresses of public education. Hey, that’s what I’m going to do too!

So now I know who is going to do my job and she just works down the hall. She has one of those jobs where she never gets to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She meets herself coming and going. Taking over my job will probably be a welcome change. But because she can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and everything she does has timelines and deadlines, she hasn’t been able to do any training for her new job. Panicking a lot now! THIS has me massively stressed out. Not only will she be learning my job probably after I’m gone, but she is also going to have to train someone new to do her job. Did I mention that I am retiring four weeks from today?

For all of you out there that have already retired, you may be able to relate to my next topic; being superfluous. Since this is my first and only go-round with retiring, I have no experience with this. What I have been feeling didn’t have a name until about a month ago, when my husband named it for me. “You are superfluous,” he said. I knew he would understand because after he announced his retirement at his J.O.B. the same thing happened to him. I remember him coming home with very similar stories as mine. I saw how much it hurt him at the time, but I didn’t think that it would happen to me.

So what do I mean when I say “I’m superfluous?” It means I am no longer necessary or needed. Did you find that after you announced your intent to retire, you were no longer brought into the inner sanctum of discussions? No one told you anything anymore. Your opinion didn’t matter because you were retiring. You are no longer on a need-to-know basis. Now I am saying all this and I have every confidence that the people who are doing this are not doing it intentionally. They probably don’t even realize they are doing it. Nevertheless, it hurts just the same. I have been a vital and critical part of this district for 26 years and should continue to be that until I retire in four weeks. In talking to others I know who have retired, this is not uncommon, but I don’t have to like it.

So today I begin the countdown to my last four weeks. My job now is to just “let it go.” I need to be OK with not knowing everything. I need to be OK with the high possibility that I won’t get to spend much if any time training the person who will take my job. I need to accept that I may not get the closure I so desperately wanted. While I will continue to do my job to the best of my ability, my focus is on June 3 when my top priorities become my husband, my family, having fun, traveling, playing pickleball, and BEING RETIRED!

What’s the Truth – Conclusion

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

I became aware of sounds and a steady beeping.  When I opened my eyes things were a bit fuzzy.  After a minute or two I realized that I was back in the hospital, hooked up to machines, and looking down at me was that same nurse from several weeks ago when everything in my life died, Nurse Dotson.

“Hey, you’re awake.  You gave us quite a scare.”

I said nothing.  In fact, at this moment my despair was at an even lower point.  My heart was broken and I had no desire to continue with the lie of a life I was now being forced to live.  Nothing made sense and I could not find Keith, Loni or Craig.  But here I am, still among the living. 

After Nurse Dotson shined lights in my eyes and checked all my vitals she cheerily smiled real big and gave me a wink. “Let me get your husband.  He’s standing right outside.  He has been so worried.  We couldn’t even get him to take some time away from the hospital.”

“He’s not my husband, I said.  I don’t want you to let him in.  I just want to be left alone.”

Tears began to run down my cheeks.  Nurse Dotson looked into my eyes and said, “It’s going to be OK.  He really needs to see you and you really need to see him.”  I couldn’t even look at her at this point and the tears just kept coming. 

Outside of my door, I could hear a voice.  A familiar voice with a very urgent tone.  A man was saying, “I am going into that room and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”  Just then the door swung open and there was the face of my husband, Keith.  I blinked several times through my tears and began to cry harder than I have ever cried in my life.  He grabbed me and hugged me tight against him.  There was the faint smell of my favorite cologne coming off his skin.  I held onto him as if he might disappear from my sight if I let go.  But I needed to see his face.  Was it really him?”

Keith looked into my eyes very seriously and said, “I thought you would never return to me.”

“Where were you?  I have looked and looked for you and couldn’t find you.”

“What do you mean you have looked?  You have been right here in the hospital for a week unconscious and I never left your side.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were in a car accident.  Do you remember anything?”

 I thought about that for a minute.  My mind was a complete jumble. 

Dr. DeMonte arrived in the room to see that I was awake and coherent.  He asked Keith to step out into the hall so he could do a bit more examination of my return to the land of the living.  “NO!” I screamed.  Tears began to fall from my eyes again.  “He cannot leave this room.  I will not let you take him from this room.”  Keith took my hand and said, “I’m not leaving doctor.  Run whatever tests you need to, but I’m not leaving.”

After Dr. DeMonte did his preliminary exam, he noted that I appeared to be OK and that they would run a few more tests the following day.  He was very pleased that I was back.  I was very pleased that I was back.  He concluded that he would be back to check on me in the morning.

Keith flashed that big beautiful smile and said, “Are you ready for more visitors?  The kids are out in the hall.”

“Loni & Craig?  They’re here?”

“Yes, they are here, and I don’t think I can keep Loni out much longer.”

The door opened and there they were, my kids.  We all visited for a bit and then the nurse came in to shoo everyone out, except Keith.  He climbed into the bed with me and held my hand.

”Ok, so tell me about this looking for me business.”

“Maybe someday I will.  I can’t relive it right now.  You tell me how I got here.”

“Well, that I can do.  You know how you are always telling me that someday one of those big semi-trucks is going to run a red light at Commerce and Veterans and there’s going to be a terrible crash?”

And then I remembered!  Out of the corner of my eye was one of those big 18 wheelers running at full speed blowing through the red light.  One car had already entered the intersection and I was pulling out as well.  The semi hit that car first and then it veered into me.

“Yes. Keith replied.  Right into you.  There was nothing left of your car and they had to use the Jaws of Life to get you out.  Loni called me because she was talking to you on the car phone and heard an awful noise and then you didn’t respond.  When I looked on my 360 app to see where you were, you were at that intersection.  I just felt something was terribly wrong, so I jumped in my car and raced to the scene.   The air ambulance landed in the middle of the intersection and they took you straight to OU Medical from there.  Hon, it’s a miracle you survived.”

“I had to survive.  We have an agreement remember.  We go together.”

“Yes, we go together.”

Two days later Dr. DeMonte had run all the tests he could run, and he signed my release papers.  Keith and I waited on someone to bring a wheelchair to take me to the front entrance.  The door opened and there was Nurse Jim with his big smile.

“Let’s go missy.  I think you need to get out of here and get home.”

“Yes Jim, that’s exactly what I need to do.  As they say in the movies, there’s no place like home.”

What’s the Truth – Part 7

Day 3 – The End of the Journey

Mark got up the next morning and noticed that I wasn’t out on the back patio with coffee and the fireplace.  Assuming I was still asleep he tiptoed up to my room and opened the door to check on me.  I wasn’t there and the bed had not been slept in.  He tried to call my phone and it rang right there in the room.  He ran down to the garage and the Beamer was gone.  He checked the GPS for the car on his phone.  It indicated that the car was parked at the Guest Inn on the north side of town.  He jumped in his car and went there.  He saw the Beamer but it wasn’t parked in front of any room.   He went into the motel office to ask if anyone had seen me, but no one had.

Mark called his friend at the Police Department and explained everything to him.  “Brad, it’s me, Mark.”

“Hey Mark.  I heard you brought Marcy home from the hospital.   How’s she doing?”

“Well that’s why I’m calling.  Remember how I told you she is having memory problems.”

“Yes.”

“Sometime last night she left the house and didn’t come home.  I found her car at the Guest Inn but she is nowhere to be found.  Can you help me?” She still doesn’t know me or anything about our life.”

“Ok, let me make some phone calls.  Stay by the phone.”

“OK.”

The sun was coming up over City Lake when the older man and his dog started down the trail between the dog park and the bench overlooking the lake.  About 20 yards away from the bench the dog took off running toward the bench.  The man tried to call his dog but she kept running for the bench.  A woman was curled up on the bench not moving.  The dog, Muffy was licking the woman’s face but she did not move.  The man called 911.  The paramedics were dispatched and Brad called Mark.

Paramedics on the scene could see that the woman was in really bad shape.  She had spent the night outside in the cold and was unresponsive.  They called for an air ambulance to take her to OU Medical in Oklahoma City.  Mark arrived and found Brad just minutes before the air ambulance arrived. 

“Mark, what was she doing in the park after dark?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t even know she had left the house.  She has been so unhappy and confused.  I don’t think she has ever even been out here in this park, certainly not all the way out here.  I have no idea what drew her out here.”

“The helicopter is taking her back to OU Med.  They reached her doctor up there and he insisted she be brought back.”

The sound of the helicopter could be heard now.  Local paramedics had stabilized the woman as best they could, had put her in a heated blanket and had started an IV to get fluids into her.  They loaded her up and took off for Oklahoma City.  Estimated time of arrival, 20 minutes.

What’s the Truth – Part 6

Day 2

I am up again at 5:30 and I get coffee and head back outside to sit with the big fireplace on.  I needed a new game plan today.   As I sat there in a fog looking out into the expansive yard, I saw movement.  I watched closely to see a momma deer and her baby nibbling on grass.  They looked up and saw me.  Our eyes met, but they were not afraid.  They continued to graze in the yard and eventually moved on where I could no longer see them. 

Mark again popped out to say good morning and he headed into work.  After four cups of coffee, I went in and scrambled myself some eggs and got cleaned up for the day.  I decided I would get on the Internet and try and find Keith and my kids.  I started with Facebook.  Nothing came up.  They all three have accounts so that was odd.  What am I saying?  Nothing is the way it’s supposed to be.  So, I just went back to Google and searched the name Keith King.  Newspaper articles came up showing him on various boards in town and many plays with the Ardmore Little Theater and then I saw it, an obituary.

Keith King, born 8/21/54 died on June 10, 2009, after a short but courageous battle against cancer.  A memorial service will be held for him on June 14, 2009, at St. Philip’s Episcopal Church.  He is survived by one daughter and one grandson.

The wave of nausea returned.  He beat cancer in 2009.  I was there, I know.  We had our first wedding anniversary his next to the last week of radiation treatments.  He had a dozen red roses delivered to our apartment even though he was so sick.  Tears began to stream down my face and the racking sobs began again.  What am I going to do?  It can’t all just be my imagination.  I curled up in a ball on the bed and cried myself to sleep.

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A few hours later I woke up, grabbed a jacket and got back in the Beamer.  I drove back into town and straight to the one place I needed to be, St. Philip’s Episcopal Church.  This was our church home and the place where Keith and I got married.  And according to the Daily Ardmoreite obituaries, this was also the place of Keith’s memorial service 13 years ago.

I parked in front of the church and walked up to the big red entrance doors.  I pulled on the door and it came open.  Thank you, God.  I needed this door to be unlocked.  Contrary to what Mark said about me not being religious, I was baptized as a Christian when I was 12 years old and was confirmed into the Episcopal Church in 2005, a year after Keith and I met.  This was a place of solace, comfort and hope for me. 

No one was in the church, so I went over and sat in the pew Keith and I considered ours.  I closed my eyes and just listened to the silence. 

I was suddenly transported to April 18, 2008.  Standing just outside those big red doors in my wedding dress and holding the arm of my 20-year-old son, Craig.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Me either.  I’m the one getting married.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Absolutely not.  I’m about to marry the man of my dreams.”

“How come you wanted me to give you away instead of grandpa?”

“Well grandpa has done that twice for me already.  Besides, it’s really you that I want to give me away this time and for the last time.”

“I’m honored to do it mom.”

The big red doors opened, and the big pipe organ began to play and into the church we went.  Everyone stood for the bride to come down the aisle, but all I could see was the man I had looked for my entire life standing at the altar waiting for me.  My gift from God.  I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life showing this man just how special he is.

A hand touched my shoulder and there sat Father Mike.  Tears again were streaming down my face.

“Are you ok?”

“No, not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure it will help.  Do you know who I am?”

“No, I’m sorry I don’t.”

“That’s Ok.  It seems to be the norm now.”

“Talk to me.”

“In short, I was in a car accident a few weeks ago.  I apparently was in a coma for a bit and when I woke up everything was wrong.”

“Ok, explain that a bit further.”

“In my mind, I have a husband and two kids.  But when I came out of the coma, the man who came into my room proclaiming to be my husband was no one I recognized.  The life I remember in my head and heart; I can find no evidence of.”

“What did your doctor say about all of this?”

“He said it was not unusual for brain trauma patients to have some memory problems for a bit, but this is a bit extreme.  I mean, the whole 63 years of my life appear to be a lie, but I feel it is my life to my very core.”

“So what brought you here today?”

“Well, that’s the ironic part.  In my memories, I am a member of this church.  Was confirmed here in 2005, married here in 2008 and was still an active member of this congregation at the time of the accident.  When you came in, I was reliving my wedding day right here in this church.”

“What was the name of the man you married here?”

“Keith King.  In fact, I have been looking for him everywhere since I got back from the hospital.  This morning, I found an obituary for him where it said he died of cancer in 2009 and his memorial service was held here.”

“Well that would have been before my time, but our Deacon Joyce was here then.  Would you like me to take you back to her office?”

“That would be great.”

I know Joyce!  I have known her since I was a teenager.  Her husband was a friend of my dad’s.  We reconnected again when I started going to St. Philip’s with Keith way back in 2004.  We were even a part of a prayer group called Daughters of the King before Joyce decided to become a deacon.  We were both Baptist converts.

“Joyce, I have brought someone to see you.  She is struggling with her memory following a serious accident.  I thought it might be good for the two of you to visit.”

“Absolutely, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Do you know me?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Well this really is my last straw then.  My memory of my life seems to be a complete lie and I really don’t know what to do now.”

“Tell me what you are talking about.”

I started from the beginning about coming home from Arkansas and waking up in the hospital with a life I don’t know.  Joyce listened very carefully and said, “I can see you are very distressed.  And you think we have met?”

“Yes.  In my reality, you and I met in 1976 when you married a friend of my dad’s, Earl.  You and Earl have a daughter named Cathy.  Earl has a son everyone called “little Earl,” and he and I were friends.  Earl passed away and you started coming to St. Philip’s which is where we reconnected in 2004.  We were members of the Daughters of the King together and then you decided you wanted to become a Deacon.”

“That is interesting. The specifics about my husband, his son and our daughter are true.  Who was your dad?”

“His name was Lonie and he ran the bowling alley here.  Earl worked part-time there.”

“That’s true he did, but his boss was not Lonie.  It was Vernon.”

“Well just more weirdness to the story.  Did Earl’s ex-wife have an affair with a guy that worked there by the name of Grover?”

“Yes!  How could you know that?”

“Remember in my mind, I lived it.”

“So we met again here at St. Philip’s?”

“Yes.  Oh, wait!  The man I recall being married to that I can’t find.  I found an obituary in the Ardmoreite that said he had a memorial service here in June of 2009.

“What was his name?”

“Keith King.”

“I remember Keith.  He was such a nice man.  He was diagnosed with cancer in 2009 and was too far gone for the doctors to do much.  He had his cancer treatments here at the Mercy Cancer Center but sadly he passed away.”

“My memory of this event was that he and I traveled to MD Anderson in Houston in February of 2009 and he beat cancer and was still cancer-free when I had my accident.  We were celebrating every day of life together.”

“I believe his ashes are in our columbarium out in the courtyard.  Let’s go look.”

Joyce and I went out into the courtyard and sure enough, there was a box with Keith’s name.  How could this be?  He was fine just weeks ago.  He was my husband.  We had a life.  What am I going to do?  I sat down on the bench and began to cry again.  I just don’t know how much more I can take.

I thanked Joyce for her time and she encouraged me to come to see her again.  I said I would try. 

---

I drove back out to the strange house north of town, parked the car in the garage and went into what appeared to be my new normal.  The weather had gotten much colder as a front had come through that day.  When Mark returned home that afternoon, I was out on the back patio with no jacket and no blanket.  I was shaking uncontrollably.  He made me come in and put hot water in the big bathtub in my room.  He put me in the bathroom and made me promise I would get in the water and warm up.  I nodded that I would.

An hour or so later I came back downstairs, and Maria had potato soup.  How did she know it was one of my favorites?  I also walked over to the wet bar and poured myself a large glass of cabernet sauvignon.  Mark started to open his mouth to tell me I don’t drink cab, when he thought better of it.  I gave him a look that said, “Don’t say it dude.”

“What did you do today?”

“I visited St. Philip’s Episcopal Church.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Something there must have really upset you.  Maybe it would help to talk about it.”

“Nope.”

“I’m really worried about you.”

“I’m really worried about me too.”

“What can I do?”

“I wish I knew.”

We continued to eat our soup in silence for a few more minutes when Mark said, “Hey, in the small office just on the other side of the master, there are some items I thought you might want to look at.”

“What kind of things?”

“Your high school yearbooks, our college yearbooks, our wedding album and the photo albums your mom gave you from when you and Carol were kids.  She made one for you and one for her.  Maybe it will trigger something in your memory.”

“Thanks.  Maybe I’ll look at them.”

We finished dinner and I poured myself another very large glass of Cab and headed for my room. The only thing I had left was to find my kids.  Did I dream that too?  Since I did not know my ex-husband’s phone number by memory, I went back to social media and tried to find him.  He could give me Loni & Craig’s number.  If I could just make contact with them, I knew the rest would be ok.

I searched for Mike Tucker in the Oklahoma City area.  Several came up and I recognized the picture of one as my ex-husband.  I clicked on his profile.  It said he was married with 2 kids.  Kids’ names were Casey and Roger and his wife was Christie.  Odd.  He is not married and he has no kids by that name.  Why would Loni and Craig not be listed?  There was a phone number so I called it.  When he answered, I recognized his voice.

“Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Thank God you answered the phone.  I can’t find Loni and Craig.  Do you know where they are and how I can reach them?”

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“No wait.  It’s me, Marcy.  I’m looking for our kids.”

“I don’t know anyone named Marcy and I don’t have any kids by that name.  You have the wrong number.”

“Do you really not know who I am?  We met at OSU, we got married and had two kids.”

“Is this a joke?” 

I hung up the phone.  He doesn’t know me, was never married to me and we never had kids. 

I walked into the office and looked at the yearbooks and photo albums and there I was smiling and living a life I don’t remember.  It’s really over then.  I had no life with Keith, and I don’t have my kids.  I can’t do this. 

After downing my third very large glass of Cab, I snuck down to the garage, backed the Beamer out and headed for the last place I could think to go to try and find some proof of my life.  I had to get to our bench in Regional Park.  It’s 10:30 p.m. and I know the park is closed.  I won’t be able to drive into the park.  I got as close as I could and parked the car at the Guest Inn Motel.  I walked around the park gates and continued walking north to our park bench for 4 miles.  It was well after midnight at this point.  The moon was full and bright as I sat down in the cold.  Keith and I loved a full moon.  We used to go sailing on Lake Murray, especially on the nights the moon was full.  I curled up on our little bench and went to sleep hoping that when I woke up, the life that I knew and loved would be back.  What else could I do?

What is the Truth – Part 5

Day One

My eyes popped open about 5:30 a.m.  I threw on some clothes and worked my way down to the kitchen to find the coffee pot.  To my surprise, it was already brewed and ready.  I poured a cup and went out onto the back patio and turned on the big outdoor fireplace.  The sun was not yet up and the birds were not even awake yet.  I found a blanket and I wrapped up in it and sat close to the fire.  As I sat there drinking my coffee and looking at the fire, it reminded me of all the mornings I had done that at my house with our dogs Daisy & Ellie sitting by me.  It was there many mornings that I could clear my head and plan my day. I definitely needed that today.

Mark could see the fireplace was on and he opened the door to find me sitting outside drinking coffee.

“Good morning.  Did you sleep well?

“Yes, thanks.”

“You’re drinking coffee now?”

“What?”

“Coffee, you’re drinking coffee.  I’ve never seen you drink coffee.  You always said that it tastes like licking an ashtray. And last night, you drank iced tea instead of beer.”

“Go figure.  Just one more unexpected thing.”

“Well enjoy.  I’ve got an early meeting and I’ll be gone most of the day.  Will you be OK?”

“Yes.  Do you have a vehicle I could use to drive into town?  I’d like to look around and see if I remember anything.”

“Sure.  The Beamer is in the garage.  Keys are in it.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll call you later to check on you.  Maria will be in later to clean and I think she is making your favorite dinner tonight.”

“Maria?”

“Oh right.  Yes, Maria.  She has worked for us here for two years.  She keeps this house clean and cooks for us most nights.”

“So what is my favorite dinner?”

“Prime Rib.”

“Yum.  Can’t wait.”

Mark turned to leave, and I remarked to myself, “I hate prime rib.” 

I went in and poured myself another cup of coffee and turned on the TV to the local news.  I wanted to see if everything was normal.  Yes, it was the same news anchors on KXII and KTEN.  Well that is comforting.  Same stupid commercials too.  I also found that oddly comforting.  Ok, so let’s get this day started.  Up the stairs I went to take a shower and get on the road.  First stop?  MY HOUSE on Dornick Drive.

---

An hour later I was stepping into the garage.  Yes, there was indeed a BMW.  Now let’s see if I can figure out how to start it.  The keys were in the storage box in the car and could stay there since this was one of those push button start vehicles.  I decided I needed to look at the wallet in that purse Mark gave me to see what exactly was in it.  There’s a driver’s license with my picture on it, but it has my name as Marcy Thompson.  There are several credit cards and $235 in cash.  That’s interesting, I rarely carry cash.  Well in case I get pulled over, at least I have a fake driver’s license. 

When I pull out of the property I somewhat recognized the area.  I worked my way back over to I-35 to take the fastest route to my house on the north side of town.  I got off on exit 33 and headed east back into town.  As I top the hill, I know I will see the stadium of my high school and the new $28 million performing arts center which was just completed right before my accident.  Keith and I were all set to attend the first function there slated for Christmas.  I worked on that bond issue for months.  Let me tell you, that is a lot of work.  That in fact was the last bond issue that I helped with before I retired from Ardmore City Schools.  I know, Mark told me I have never worked, but remember Mark isn’t my husband and he doesn’t know anything about me.

So, I top the hill and there’s the stadium but there is no performing arts center.  How can that be?  How could it just vanish?  So now I’m officially on another level of scared.  I turn left on Chickasaw to head to my house.  My housing addition is there, and I turn to go into it.  I see that old crappy shed of an office of the guy that started my housing addition and turn right.  My house is three houses down on the left at the next street.   I slammed on the brakes and just froze.  There’s a house there, but it’s not my house!  I turn left and all the other houses that are supposed to be there are.  But the house on my lot, is not my house.

A wave of nausea goes through me as I try and wrap my mind around everything.  Some man I don’t know says I’m his wife.  Keith’s phone number is not Keith’s phone number.  Craig’s phone number is not Craig’s number.  My house is not here and there is no performing arts center.  Maybe I need to just go down to First National Bank and find someone who can tell me where Keith is. Then I remembered, it’s a federal holiday all the banks are closed.  I’ll drive over to my old office.  They certainly know me there.  My office is just on the other side of the high school so I don’t have far to drive. 

I get out of the car and go in through the south entry doors.  The girl in the lobby reception area asked if she could help me.  I have no idea who she is.  She is not the person that replaced Kathleen when she retired and not the person that was there just a few weeks ago when I stopped by to visit.  I start through the office door and she stops me.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Terrie.  Who are you?

“I’m Tammy.”

“Hi Tammy.  I’m Marcy.  I used to work in this office.  When did you start working here?”

“I’ve been here ten years.”

I can’t even begin to rationalize this.  I just need to find Jill or Terrie.  I repeat again, “I would like to see Terrie.”

“Let me go see if she is in her office.”

I am not liking the direction this is going.  I am supposed to be finding the truth and my life.  So far I am striking out.  I just know Terrie will be able to help me make sense of this.

Terrie comes out to the lobby and asks, “Can I help you?”

“Boy am I glad to see you.  Did you know I had been in an accident?”

“No I didn’t.  Have we met?

“You are too funny.  I normally find your sense of humor refreshing, but I don’t think I can handle it today.  I have some weird stuff going on and I need your help.  Can we go sit in your office and talk?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.”

“Are you serious?  You don’t know me?”

“No, I don’t know you.”

I just began to back up when I bumped into the lobby door.  I opened the door and went back to the car.  I sat there not knowing what to do next.  Nothing was right.  Maybe I really have lost my mind.  How could I be remembering a life that I could find no proof of?  How could being Loni and Craig’s mom not be real?  How could my life with Keith not be real?  What will I do if I find out that all of my memories are not real?  I don’t want a life without those people in it.  At this point I drove myself back out to that house and had to figure out what my next step was.  My head was hurting and I was exhausted.

---

When I arrived back at the house, I parked the car back in the garage.  Maria was there and she was so excited to see me.  Wish I could remember her.  Wish I could remember anything that I could verify.  Had my mind made up this entire life that didn’t exist?  How could that be possible?

“Mrs. Thompson, I am so glad you are home.  I have been so worried.  It was a terrible accident.”

“Thanks Maria.  Please just call me Marcy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.  Did Mark tell you that I don’t remember anything?”

“Yes, he did.  I hope that my prime rib will snap your memory back.”

“About that.  Do you think you could prepare me something else?  Like salmon.”

“You don’t want the prime rib?  It’s your favorite.”

“That’s the thing Maria.  I don’t remember liking prime rib.  In fact, my recollection is that I detest prime rib and I won’t eat it.”

“Oh my.  Your mind really is scrambled.  Salmon it is.  I have a great recipe!”

“Thanks Maria.  I really appreciate it.  I think I’m going up to my room and take a nap or just have some quiet time.”

“Yes ma’am.  I’ll be here if you need anything.”

At 5:30 there was a gentle knock on the door that woke me from a sound sleep.  My eyes opened and I wasn’t sure if I had heard something or not.  You know when you are in a deep sleep sometimes and you wake up confused.  Then there was the gentle knock again and this time it was Mark’s voice.

“Hon, dinner is ready.”

“Ok, thanks.  I’ll be right down.”

I’ve got to tell him to not call me “hon.” Only Keith can call me that.  Then I remembered my day and that I found no proof of the life I have been living in my head.  I pulled myself together and went down to dinner.

Maria was indeed a fantastic cook and her salmon was maybe the best I have ever had.  Mark had the disgusting prime rib.

“So you’re eating salmon now and drinking coffee?

“You know, I think you are going to find that the person you thought you knew, is very different.”

“How so?”

“If my memory of our life does not come back and who I am now is all you have; you may not like me anymore.”

“Well that’s just not possible.  Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because I don’t know who that woman is you were telling me about last night.  Remember when I asked you about our life together?  Everything you told me is the opposite of who I am.”

“Elaborate on that.”

“Let’s start with how we met.  I would never have attended a frat party and would never have been considered the life of any party.  I would never sky dive out of a perfectly good airplane, I would never go hunting and kill anything. I love animals, especially dogs.  I would never have been satisfied with just sitting at home.  I would have wanted a career. AND, I would have wanted children.  Being a mother was always something I wanted.”

Mark sat quietly for a moment just taking it all in.  “Well I have to admit, your recollection of who you are and mine are very different.  In fact, it’s pretty much the polar opposite.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“So I know you got out today.  Did you find anything to help you remember our life here?”

“No.”

“Will you consider seeing a counselor to help you with this?”

“Give me until next week and then I’ll agree to go.”

“OK, but I’m going to go ahead and make the appointment for next Monday.  Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

What is the Truth – Part 4

Day Zero

The next morning Dr. DeMonte returned to my room with news.  He is convinced that I can and should go home.  He is still concerned about my inability to remember my life, but he is still confident that my memory will return.  I must go back and see him in two weeks. Mark arrives to take me home.  Nurse Jim shows up with the wheelchair and his big smile and a part of me feels at ease.

“OK missy, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Thanks, Jim.  Take me to the car so I can get home and straighten things out.”

“You got it.”

Mark has pulled up in a very large Mercedes SUV.  Interesting.  That could not have been cheap.  What does this guy do for a living? 

Jim opens my door and helps me into the car.  So here I am alone in a car with someone I don’t know going to a home I don’t know.  I’m not good at idle chit chat and what could I possibly say?  Mark broke the silence first. 

“I know this is beyond weird for you.  Maybe when we get home things in our house will trigger your memory.”

“OK.  Since I don’t remember anything, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“OK, great idea.  I work for JWY Technology.  It is a young company, but we have been very successful.  We wanted the corporate office to be in a smaller community and Ardmore got the bid.   We employ 600 people.  It was a very big deal to the community when we came to town.”

“Wow, I’m sure it was,”  I said.  “Where do we live?”

“One of the perks and incentives of me taking the job was that the company would build us a very nice home on some land just outside of town.  You had a great time working with the builders to make it just what we wanted.”

“When you say outside of town, what are we talking about?”

“It’s just north of town tucked into the Arbuckle Mountains.”

We arrived at the property and went through some gates and there in the distance was a very large home.  “Home sweet home hon,” said Mark.  Keith calls me ‘hon,’ what is this guy doing calling me that?  I just remained silent at this point.  There was no point arguing that this wasn’t my home.  We finally arrived at the house and pulled into the five car garage.  Mark came around to help me out of the car and into the house we went.  Wow.  It was about 8,000 square feet of house.  I’m pretty sure if I lived in this house, I would remember. 

Mark asked if I wanted to rest for a bit and I said, no.  I would just like to walk around.  Outside of the big glass windows in the family room was a huge outdoor living area with a fireplace and beyond that a pool.  I wondered outside to take it all in.  I found a cushioned chair and went out to sit.  What were my next moves going to be?  I needed to find Keith and my kids.  Were they looking for me?  Did they think I was dead?  I continued to sit silently for a few more minutes when Mark came out to join me.

“I can see that this is all a bit much.  I am so sorry you are going through this.  I can be here all week to help out if you need me.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I just need a lot of quiet time to process and remember things.  Is there a guest room or something that I can use?” 

“Sure, but why don’t you let me move into the guest room?  I would have way less to move.” 

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“No problem.  What is important is for you to get better and get your memory back.  Maybe you staying in the master will help.” 

“Ok, I replied.  Where is the master?” 

“Turn left at the top of the stairs.  You can’t miss it.  I’ll go back in for now and let you be alone.”

“Thanks,” I reply.  “I may just wander through the house in a bit. For now, I’m just going to wander over to that couch, cover up and close my eyes.”

Mark reaches over and picks up a remote control for the fireplace and hands it to me.  “Here, you don’t usually like to turn it on, but it could be a new day, who knows.”  I thought to myself, it’s absolutely a new day.

Mark went back inside and I moved over to a big leather sofa with pillows and a blanket.  My head felt “fuzzy” and the drive had been exhausting.  After I curled up on the sofa with the blanket, I did indeed turn on the big fireplace.  I told myself it was OK to close my eyes.

My eyes popped open and I realized that I had fallen asleep.  I decided it was time to walk through this ridiculously large home.  There was a workout room, four large fireplaces, walking trails through the property, a hot tub, and a swimming pool.  None of which I remembered.  There were pictures of Mark and me all over the house.  I stopped and looked at each one.  Very disturbing.  How did he crop me into these pictures and why?  There were several pictures of us hunting and posing with our prizes.  I would NEVER do that.  There were pictures of us riding horses, vacationing on a yacht, skydiving, and the most disturbing of all was a wedding photo dated June 1981.

I wandered into the master suite.  It was quite the space with a giant fireplace.  There were two master closets.  I found the one with women’s clothing and assumed Mark would tell me that those were my clothes.  I looked through them and recognized nothing.  However, they would have to work for now since I had not gotten to my house yet.  I found some makeup and other items I could use as well.  

Shortly after I finished getting myself somewhat familiar with the house, Mark found me and said he had ordered my favorite pizza and beer for dinner.   I doubt very seriously that my favorite pizza will arrive, which is ‘the Goat’ by the way from Ten Star Pizza and I don’t like beer. 

We took our pizza into the big family room.  As I suspected, it was not my favorite pizza and I had a glass of iced tea instead of the beer.  Mark looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. 

“I thought this would be a great opportunity for me to ask some questions about this ‘life of ours.’  So Mark, how did we meet?”

“We met at a frat party in college your freshman year.  You were the life of the party and I was smitten pretty quickly.  I was a junior majoring in business administration and you had not yet decided what to major in.”  

“Where was this?”

“UCLA.”

“UCLA in California?  I went to school in California?”

“Yes, he said.  You are originally from Pasadena.” 

“Are you telling me that I am not from Ardmore, but from California?” 

“Yes, we have only been here a couple of years after the company chose Ardmore for our corporate headquarters.”

Well that was just insane I thought.  I was born here in Ardmore, went to school here in Ardmore and worked for Ardmore Schools for over 25 years.  I moved back here in 1991 as a single mom with two young kids to be near my parents.  I raised them right here in my hometown.  I am NOT the life of any party, I don’t hunt and I would NEVER jump out of an airplane.  OK, calm down, you are on a fact-finding mission.  Keep asking questions.

“Tell me about our wedding.” 

“Well since you are not religious you did not want a church wedding.  So we got married at the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco.  It was just you, me, Carol and a few close friends.  I have the wedding book if you would like to look through it.”

“Maybe later, I said.  Did you say that I’m not religious?” 

“Right.” 

“We don’t belong to a church?”

“No,” Mark replied.  Any time I have suggested it you refused.”

Well this just gets better and better. 

“Do I work?” I asked. 

“No, he replied.  We got married after I graduated and you never finished your degree.  I had a great job and you didn’t need to work.” 

“And I was OK with not working?   I didn’t need to do something to occupy my time or feel like I was contributing?” 

Mark laughed and said, “Nope.  You had your girlfriends.  You traveled and shopped with them and you were learning to play golf before the accident.” 

Well I guess I need to keep asking questions.  “Do we have kids?”  His face got a little sad at this question and then he replied, “No.  You didn’t want kids and had your tubes tied when you were 30.” 

Well this is sheer madness I thought.  “What about pets?” I asked.  “No again,” he said.  “You didn’t like the way they smelled and didn’t want to deal with pet hair.”  After a few seconds of silence, I said, “I got to tell you, Mark, I don’t like this girl you have described to me.  I don’t work, I won’t go to church, I didn’t want kids and I don’t like pets.  But I like to party, spend money and travel.”  He responded, “Well that’s the girl I fell in love with over 45 years ago.”

We finished our pizza, which was really good even if it wasn’t my favorite and I could feel the day beginning to weigh on me.  The information I had received was not helpful and I felt even further away from finding the truth.

“You know, I think I need to go to my room and relax a bit.  Maybe take a hot bath and go to sleep.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.  I got your phone replaced.  Yours was destroyed in the accident.  It’s the same model and they were able to load up all your information from the Cloud into it.”

“Perfect, good night.”

I went up to the master bedroom and sat down on the sofa and looked at the phone Mark handed me.  It looked nothing like my phone.  I scrolled through the contacts and just saw a bunch of names I didn’t know.  No contact info for Keith, Loni or Craig.  I don’t even know Loni’s number by memory so I can’t call her.  Luckily I do remember Keith and Craig’s number.  I sat down on the bed and dialed Keith’s number.  A woman answered the phone.

“Hello.”

“Can I speak to Keith?”

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Keith, Keith King.  This is his number.”

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.”

“Do you know Keith?”

“No dear I don’t.”

“I did call 580-253-8202, right?

“Yes, you did.  That’s my number.”

“Can you tell me how long this has been your phone, number?

“Since 2012.

“Thank you.  I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“It’s not a problem dear.  Have a good evening.”

How could that no longer be Keith’s number? I’ll call Craig.  I dialed his number and a man answered.

“Hello.”

“Can I speak to Craig please?”

“You got the wrong number lady.”

“Is this 580-389-6982?”

“Yea it is.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you had this number?

“My whole life.”

At that point, I just hung up.  What is going on?  My head was spinning.  There was nothing more I could do tonight.  I filled the tub with hot water and bubble bath and soaked until my fingers pruned.  I climbed into the big bed and I was asleep before my eyes closed.

What is the Truth – Part 3

Day 2 in Neverland

Apparently, I was given something to relax me because the next thing I know is that it is morning.  I was taken down for an MRI to look a little closer at my head.  Things seemed to be fine, but I still had no memory of the accident or this man that claims to be my husband.  They continued to give me something to keep me calm when the doctor brought this Mark guy back into my room.

“Good morning.  I don’t want to scare you or upset you, so there is no pressure from me, ok?” said Mark. 

“Look, I am sure you are a nice guy, but I don’t know you and you are certainly not my husband. I don’t understand what is going on.  Where are my kids?  Why aren’t they here with Keith?  Where is Keith?”  I could feel the anxiety building up again and that crushing weight in my chest when Dr. DeMonte jumped into the conversation.

“Good morning all.  I have looked at your MRI and I can see no abnormalities.   Everything looks fine.  My guess is your brain is still healing from the trauma and your memory will return eventually.”  I responded to this news very quickly.  “My memory is fine Dr. DeMonte.  I know who I am, I know where I live, and I know who my husband and children are.  What I don’t know is where they all are and why they aren’t here.”

Again, Dr. DeMonte asked Mark if he could leave the room for a few minutes.  He needed to have a serious discussion with me apparently.

Dr. DeMonte begins, “Mrs. Thompson, I am going to try and explain things the best way I know how.” Angrily I respond, “Don’t call me Mrs. Thompson.  That is not my name.  My name is Marcy King.”  “I’m sorry,” replied the doctor.  “Let’s just go with Marcy at this time.  I can see that this is very difficult and something you completely don’t understand.  I am going to keep an eye on you for a couple more days and see how your memory goes.  Because I don’t see any damage in the MRI, I am confident that the memory of your life with Mr. Thompson will return.  When you are well enough to go home, I will have to release you to go with him or another family member.  Our records show that he is indeed your husband.” 

There are no words left for me to say as the tears spill from my eyes.  At this point, I begin to sob uncontrollably, and Dr. DeMonte puts his arms around me and lets me cry.  Once I begin to get a grip momentarily on my emotions, he releases me and says he will be back to check on me in a bit. 

A new nurse came into my room.  His name tag said Faaborg.  He had a great smile and for some reason, he felt familiar and made me feel safe.  “Hey, pretty lady.  I hear you are having a rough go of it.  How would you like to hop into this wheelchair and get some fresh air?”

I glanced up at his name tag wondering how to pronounce his name when he looked at me and said, “Just call me Jim.” 

“Ok, Jim.  I think some fresh air would be great.”   

“It’s a beautiful fall day outside and the temperature is a perfect 75 degrees with a light southerly breeze.  Would be a great day to be out on a sailboat for sure.” 

Well, that got my attention.  Keith and I had a sailboat once upon a time.  In fact, we had our first date on that very sailboat.  Jim was right, sounded like perfect sailing weather.  He helped me up ever so slowly, guided me into the wheelchair and down the hall we went. 

“I think the garden will be the perfect place for you to get some fresh air.” He sat me next to a small table where I could get a little sun and breathe in the fresh air.  He offered to get me a glass of iced tea and said he would be back in a flash. 

The garden was full of pansies and the leaves were beginning to turn beautiful reds, yellows and oranges.  It smelled and felt like fall.  Keith and I love fall.  I closed my eyes and let the warm sun shine on my face……. My mind was suddenly somewhere else.  I felt like I was being transported through a tunnel.

When I opened my eyes, I was on my ebike riding behind Keith down a beautiful paved path through the trees. “Do you want to lead?” asked Keith.  “No.  You are doing a great job.  Keep going.” I replied.

We crossed the road, passed the dog park and headed out onto a dirt trail for about a mile.  At the end of the path, we had reached it, “our bench” facing the lake.  We parked the bikes and I went over and sat on our bench.  Keith brought over a small thermos.  He had made us a mimosa to share while we sat together looking at the lake.  We sat sipping our mimosas, just sitting quietly enjoying each other’s company.  We never felt the need to fill the silence with idle conversation.  We were comfortable just sharing the experience.

“Ok, our mimosas are officially gone. What do you want to do now?” asked Keith.  I had the perfect answer to the perfect morning. “Let’s ride home, do a little hot tub time, and then have some adventure upstairs in the playroom.”

“I like the way you think Mrs. King.   Lead the way.”

I was suddenly jolted when Jim returned with my iced tea.    “I’m sorry I woke you.  Hope you were having a good dream.”

A tear dropped from my eye when I responded.  “You have no idea just how good.”

After a bit, Jim took me back up to my room and I asked to sit in the recliner.  The fresh air and sunshine felt great.  I could feel myself getting stronger both physically and mentally.  While nothing still made sense, my drive to find Keith and my kids was unwavering.  I was just going to have to do it on my terms.  No one apparently was going to help me.

I was sitting quietly sipping my iced tea thinking about Keith when the door to my room opened.  All I could think was, what now.  Mark had returned and asked if he could come in. 

“Tell me your name again,” I asked. 

“Mark.  Mark Thompson.  I know you still don’t remember me, but do you remember anyone named Carol?”

Now we were getting somewhere.  I replied, “Yes, my best friend in high school’s name was Carol.” 

“Great,” replied Mark.  “You remember your sister.” 

“Um no.  I don’t have a sister.  Carol Norman and I bowled together and were best friends.  We were even college roommates.  She went on to become a professional bowler on the women’s pro tour.”

Mark asked, “Could you be confusing your sister Carol with ‘bowling’ Carol?”  Boy was this exhausting.  I replied, “No.  I don’t have a sister.  In fact, I’m an only child.”  I could see the lines forming on Mark’s forehead and the confusion setting in.  Finally, he said, “OK.  I’ll leave you alone for now.”  I almost felt sorry for him.

Mark went out into the hall and walked down to the sitting area to call Carol.   She answered on the first ring. 

“Good news I hope.”

“Nope.  She still doesn’t know me, and she says she doesn’t have a sister.” 

“Let me rearrange my schedule and get down there.”

“Not sure it’s a good idea at this point.  Let’s give it some time.  I’ll keep you posted.”

“How much longer are they going to keep her in the hospital?”

“I think they are going to release her to go home in the morning.  Except she doesn’t remember home.  Maybe after we get to the house and she sees the pictures and stuff it will jog her memory.”

“Let’s hope.  I’m here if you need me.”

What is the Truth – Part 2

Welcome to Neverland

I became aware of sounds and a steady beeping.  When I opened my eyes, things were a bit fuzzy.  After a minute or two I realized that I was in the hospital hooked up to machines. There was a nurse hovering over me.  Her name tag said Dotson.

“Hey, you are awake.  You gave us quite a scare.”

“Where am I?”

“Well sweetie, you are at OU Medical Center in our beautiful Intensive Care Unit.” 

“Why?” 

“You were in a pretty serious accident and needed critical care.  I need to let the doctor know you are awake.  Just give me a minute and I’ll go and get your husband.” 

Well, thank God.  Keith was here and he could explain everything to me.  She left the room and a man entered with tears in his eyes.  He came toward me smiling and was reaching for my hand.

“You had me so worried.  I knew you would come back to me.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

Before he could answer the doctor came into the room and started looking me over and having me look at lights and answer questions.

“Welcome back.  I am Dr. DeMonte.”

“What happened to me?”

“You had a pretty serious car accident five days ago.  Do you remember anything about the event?” 

“No, nothing.”

“It was a pretty severe crash and you were airlifted from Ardmore to us here in Oklahoma City.  You have been in a coma since you arrived.  Miraculously, you sustained no major injuries.”

Nurse Dotson stepped back into the room smiling and I asked her if she would go and get my husband.  She looked a bit confused by my request.  She looked over at that man that was standing in my room and he looked at her. 

“Marcy, it’s me, Mark.”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t know you.  I need someone to go and get my husband.”

At this point, Dr. DeMonte looked up from my medical chart and asked everyone to leave the room.  He pulled up a chair by my bed and sat down.

“Do you know the man that was just in your room?”

“No.  I really need for you guys to go and get my husband.”

There was an awkward silence at this point when Dr. DeMonte said, “That was your husband.”  I emphatically replied, “No, that was not my husband.  My husband is Keith King.  I’m sure he is out in the hallway if you will just go get him.”

Dr. DeMonte got very quiet and said that he felt a few tests might be needed.  He stated that I seemed to have some form of amnesia, which was not uncommon after the head trauma I had suffered in the accident.

Panic began to take over when I said, “Look, I don’t know what kind of joke you guys are trying to play here, but I need you to go and get my husband and I mean now or I am going to start to scream.”

Tears began to stream down my face and I felt a crushing weight in my chest.  What was happening and where is Keith?  I couldn’t breathe and all I wanted to do was scream, then I don’t remember anything.

Dr. DeMonte looked up and said, “Thank you nurse for giving Mrs. Thompson a little something in her IV to relax her. I think we may have a bigger problem here.”

Dr. DeMonte walked out into the hall and asked Mark to come with him.  They went down the hall into an office.  The doctor asked Mark to sit.

“Mr. Thompson, your wife has no memory of you or your life together.  She was quite upset when I finished talking with her and we have given her something to make her relax.  I am going to run a few tests in the morning just to make sure we aren’t missing something and to determine if anything else is going on.”

“How can she not remember me or our life together?”

“She had a very serious accident and is lucky to be alive.  It may just take some time.  Her brain may still be healing.  It is not uncommon for brain trauma patients to experience some amnesia.  I must admit it does seem a bit odd because she is convinced that not only are you not her husband, but her husband has a name, and it’s not your name. I’m going to go check on her again and I want you to check back with me in the morning.” 

“Do you mind if I sit in here for a bit?  I need to make a few phone calls.”

“Sure,” Dr. DeMonte responded. “Take your time.” 

Mark took out his phone and dialed Carol, Marcy’s sister.  Carol answered the phone on the first ring.

“Mark?  I have been waiting for your call.  You said she was awake.  Is she ok?  Tell me what’s going on.”

A moment passed and Carol could hear what she thought was Mark crying.

“Mark! Talk to me.  What’s going on?  Is she OK?”

“She is awake and seems fine physically.”

“Oh thank God.”

“Well, it’s not quite that simple.  She doesn’t know who I am.” 

“What do you mean she doesn’t know who you are?”

“They called me into her room because she was awake.  She looked up at me when I came into the room and there was no recognition in her eyes when she saw me.  Then she asked the nurse to go bring in her husband.” 

“Well that just makes no sense.”

“The doctor said it is not all that uncommon for there to be some amnesia following a traumatic brain injury.  She was very upset when she was told ‘I’ was her husband.  She kept demanding they go get some guy named Keith King.  She thinks ‘he’ is her husband.”

Things got very quiet for a moment when Carol asked, “Do you need me to come?  I can move some stuff around in my schedule and be there in a few days.” 

“Let’s give it some time first.  Let me feel her out.  If she remembers you then it might be good to have you here.  If she doesn’t, I think it could make matters worse.” 

“That makes sense.  Call me later.” 

“Will do.”