Then a toothless, crazy lady who sits on the front row and is usually on some other planet suddenly raised her hand and yelled over the din of voices. “Are we talking about turkeys? I can bring a turkey?!”—And I lost it! Everything was out of my control—the Thanksgiving Dinner AND my emotions.
Viewing entries tagged
The morning of the Thanksgiving Dinner, David met me at the door of my car, a big grin on his face. He said, “Come and see our flower planter! It’s finished and I think it’s beautiful!”
Jimmy’s mouth dropped open. Then he said, “Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me?! Don’t mess with me!” I assured him that I wasn’t and asked if he would be willing to assist the chef at the country club. For a moment, Jimmy stood there silent. Then a gigantic smile swallowed the lines of Jimmy’s haggard face. He grabbed me around the shoulders, picked me up and began to sob, “God is giving me back my dream! He’s giving me back my dream!”
I looked at David, an alcoholic, vietnam vet who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia, and who spends part of every day at Joe’s, and his mouth was hanging open. He said, “That’s like ‘deja vu’ or something . . .”