Paradise is burning

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I hope they saved the Banyan tree.  The one that sits in the park in Lahaina.  The magnificent old tree has seen life on the island radically change from the time of missionaries to the throngs of tourists and now wildfires.  It was planted in 1873 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the first protestant mission trip to Maui.

I hope they saved the Banyan tree to bear witness to the dangers so many dismissed as hoax, as liberal extremism, as anti-fossil fuels.  The yammering of conspiracy belief.

It is the biggest banyan tree in Hawaii and covers 1.94 acres of what used to be the courthouse square and is now simply known as Banyan Park.  The tree is magnificent.  The sixteen main trunks and lower branches sport twinkle lights upon occasion.  It turned 150 years old this past April.

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Unclaimed Property

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Perhaps you can imagine my surprise.  There I am sitting in the doctor’s office waiting to be called back for my annual exam.  There’s a newspaper on the coffee table and I’m flipping through it.  I haven’t held a newspaper in my hands in years.  They’re such dinosaurs now.  And I can see why.  There is nothing but wire stories that are thinly veiled advertisements for something I don’t want or need. 

Photo by Marcelo Cidrack on Unsplash

I flip the page and there’s a whole page of tiny print.  Legal ad of some sort.  I flip the page but quickly turn it back.  Was that my name? My old name? 

Sure enough.  Maureen D. Jackson and my address from ten years ago.   

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Early Retirement

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Melissa stood at the crosswalk waiting on the light to change.  It had been long enough now that she was concerned the button wasn’t working.  When for the second time, the north-south traffic lights turned green she was certain of it. 

She wondered again where her strict adherence to rules came from.  The thought of crossing against the light without a walk sign gave her the jitters.  She was close to sweat popping out on her forehead.  She stopped, channeled her yoga instructor of thirty years earlier, and breathed three long slow inhalations and exhalations.  Elaine’s voice popped into her mind, “Three deep breaths at times of stress will almost always relax you enough to cope. “

Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

Melissa needed all the coping mechanisms she could get. 

On the other side of Third Avenue, she headed right towards her office.  The sun was warm on her back and the thought of confining herself to her office on this lovely lovely birthday eve day was anathema. 

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Encounter with a stranger I never saw again

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The woman was sobbing as they rolled my gurney into the hospital room.  Her curtain was pulled so I couldn’t see her, but her sobs would have been heartbreaking had I not been in a state of euphoria.

I had just given birth to my miracle baby.  It was a miracle we conceived him.  It was a miracle when I sensed something wrong and went to my OB’s office.  It was a miracle my OB was out of town and another doctor with much smaller hands ended up tying the knot in the cervical cerclage stitch that closed my cervix and kept me pregnant.  It was a miracle that I was in labor for 9 weeks and the drugs kept me pregnant long enough for him to be viable.  It was a miracle that he was born 9 ½ weeks early and suffered little complications.  That’s no big deal now, but in 1985 that was a miracle.

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