The final part of The story of S
So if you have missed the first two parts, please click back twice to start at the beginning. If you don't care to because you have already done so, let me recap.
S, a crazed customer of mine (through other business, of course) has requested that I deliver a package to her apartment. She called me several times making sure I knew exactly where I was going and a small forewarning that her apartment would be cluttered with boxes and books.
In my last post I described S's apartment having wallpaper that was in the form of stacked books along her walls...every wall. Her apartment was small and cluttered as it was, it was understandable as S began to tell me about her lack of family and how she was able to read over 6,000 borrowed books from her local library.
Now, I'm not sure that any library would ever honor someone with a letter simply stating how many books they have borrowed, or at least not without an initial request, but still, I had to believe S for there had to be a few hundred books in this apartment at least. And most of the books that were paperback had bent spines and curled covers that proved that someone had read them at some point in time.
Now back up to speed, let it be known that S never left her bedside as she spoke to me. She sat there holding her cane upright and her hand rested on top. She took deep breaths as if thinking and speaking wore her out. It was obvious to me at this point that S either was ill or had suffered in the past from an illness. I found out it was the latter.
S had fought cancer and allegedly won the battle. S also told me how she lost her daughter, son in law and two grandchildren nearly ten years ago. Although she wouldn't tell me how she lost them, I can only imagine it was a great tragedy however it happened because S continued to tell me of her therapy that she had to go through after the loss.
Not tragic enough? Well, S was also a Navy nurse back in her day and served a good amount of years as one. I can only imagine the horrific things a nurse sees on a daily basis, let alone one that has served our country.
This lead S to begin talking politics which I blocked out respectively. At this time, I grew anxious to leave taking note that S was taking advantage of having someone in her company that wasn't on the telephone with someone else from my workplace. The woman was lonely, there was huge amounts of evidence there, but I felt as though I had absorbed too much of S's lifestory and was ready to leave.
I left, almost running for the door, realizing I had been there about an hour. Gathering my thoughts as I ran for my car, I began to think about all the things that just happened.
S's apartment shock, her lifestory shock, S as a shock by herself. The whole experience was a shock and I had to look deeper into the situation to realize that it was almost surreal and that I had to use this experience to learn something about my writing.
So here it is: you have been reading my lesson learned. I have recorded this experience here taking in as much of the detail as possible, making light of it, taking note of it and most of all, not forgetting it. It was a memorable experience and I'm sure that I will encounter S again, hopefully not in her home, that just might take away the grand characteristics that I hold of her in my memory.
If I do see her again, and I'm sure I will, I will ask about what books she is reading, does she need help from my place of business, but one thing I will not do is ask how she is doing or how she is feeling. These things may bring back a deja vu of that night at her apartment all over again ruining the experience as being unique.
If you are reading this and think that you know someone else who may enjoy it, please forward it along. The more readers and feedback any writer can get is always a learning experience.
I welcome any feedback if you have read these posts in their entirety and look forward to hearing from you.
As Always, thanks for reading,
Nicholas A. McGirr
Book One: The Growing Dim Project
Life of Death
S, a crazed customer of mine (through other business, of course) has requested that I deliver a package to her apartment. She called me several times making sure I knew exactly where I was going and a small forewarning that her apartment would be cluttered with boxes and books.
In my last post I described S's apartment having wallpaper that was in the form of stacked books along her walls...every wall. Her apartment was small and cluttered as it was, it was understandable as S began to tell me about her lack of family and how she was able to read over 6,000 borrowed books from her local library.
Now, I'm not sure that any library would ever honor someone with a letter simply stating how many books they have borrowed, or at least not without an initial request, but still, I had to believe S for there had to be a few hundred books in this apartment at least. And most of the books that were paperback had bent spines and curled covers that proved that someone had read them at some point in time.
Now back up to speed, let it be known that S never left her bedside as she spoke to me. She sat there holding her cane upright and her hand rested on top. She took deep breaths as if thinking and speaking wore her out. It was obvious to me at this point that S either was ill or had suffered in the past from an illness. I found out it was the latter.
S had fought cancer and allegedly won the battle. S also told me how she lost her daughter, son in law and two grandchildren nearly ten years ago. Although she wouldn't tell me how she lost them, I can only imagine it was a great tragedy however it happened because S continued to tell me of her therapy that she had to go through after the loss.
Not tragic enough? Well, S was also a Navy nurse back in her day and served a good amount of years as one. I can only imagine the horrific things a nurse sees on a daily basis, let alone one that has served our country.
This lead S to begin talking politics which I blocked out respectively. At this time, I grew anxious to leave taking note that S was taking advantage of having someone in her company that wasn't on the telephone with someone else from my workplace. The woman was lonely, there was huge amounts of evidence there, but I felt as though I had absorbed too much of S's lifestory and was ready to leave.
I left, almost running for the door, realizing I had been there about an hour. Gathering my thoughts as I ran for my car, I began to think about all the things that just happened.
S's apartment shock, her lifestory shock, S as a shock by herself. The whole experience was a shock and I had to look deeper into the situation to realize that it was almost surreal and that I had to use this experience to learn something about my writing.
So here it is: you have been reading my lesson learned. I have recorded this experience here taking in as much of the detail as possible, making light of it, taking note of it and most of all, not forgetting it. It was a memorable experience and I'm sure that I will encounter S again, hopefully not in her home, that just might take away the grand characteristics that I hold of her in my memory.
If I do see her again, and I'm sure I will, I will ask about what books she is reading, does she need help from my place of business, but one thing I will not do is ask how she is doing or how she is feeling. These things may bring back a deja vu of that night at her apartment all over again ruining the experience as being unique.
If you are reading this and think that you know someone else who may enjoy it, please forward it along. The more readers and feedback any writer can get is always a learning experience.
I welcome any feedback if you have read these posts in their entirety and look forward to hearing from you.
As Always, thanks for reading,
Nicholas A. McGirr
Book One: The Growing Dim Project
Life of Death
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