Four Flights of Stairs
By Betzann Carroll
The four flights of stairs looked very different first thing in the morning, than they did after walking home from a long day’s work. With the wind whipping against my face and my frozen feet sliding along ice encrusted snow mounds in every direction, I trudged on to my fourth floor apartment without an elevator. The stairs seemed to be my enemy. Having made it up those stairs, I comforted myself with the assurance this freezing February 14th would be spent right where I was. As soon as I thawed out I would prepare for a guest.
When my guest arrived, he had another plan. He wanted to go for a ride and discover a new place. I thought it better to visit a new place on the Discovery Channel. We could play a game, read together, or even talk. He was the most handsome and exciting man I had ever dated. I enjoyed his company and applauded his values and faith. Yes, a stimulating conversation would be much more challenging than another trip down “those” stairs. Determination was also one of his virtues. I have since learned he doesn’t give up easily. It was Valentine’s Day and I did not see any flowers or candy behind his back. Maybe he had something in the car. I did want to be with him, in a nice warm room. His authentic New England accent convinced me to bundle up and meet him at the stairs, “those” stairs.
The walk to the car was more pleasant than I imagined. This strong man guided me safely to the car as he covered me with his blanket of muscles. The car was still somewhat warm. Looking over my shoulder I could see the Boston skyline as I glanced around, still looking for hidden flowers or a package. No, nothing in sight. So what, I was in a warm car with the man of my dreams going somewhere, anywhere. I was just fine.
He seemed to be turning off the highway now. The way was dark as he pulled his small Vega under some huge pine trees. When he turned off the headlights, it was pitch black. Always looking ahead, I worried whether we would get stuck in this snow. The engine stopped and there was silence. Please don’t say let’s get out and walk. “Where are we?” I asked. Walden Pond!
It wasn’t so cold. In fact, I think I was getting warm, even hot. “I have something to ask you”, he said. Now my heart was pulsating and anticipation was taking over. There was no music, flowers or candlelight. Until, you guessed it. He asked me that question and twenty-nine years later I am still thrilled.
The cold was not a problem. The biting wind now felt like a summer breeze. And the stairs, I think I floated instead of walked. However, we never lived on the fourth floor after that.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Two for One
Everyone Pleave note that the 'Steve Carroll' in this story in not me but my dad let's be clear i would never have invited to girls to the same date. Well except the time...
Two for One
Major Betzann Carroll
It is said that there is someone for everyone, but this time there were two!
Two for one!
Could it be true? Steve Carroll, a tall, handsome, and very intelligent man asked me out. We were actually going to a special farewell for mutual friends. It was all I thought about for two weeks. Meet him at the switchboard in the main hall of The Salvation Army Headquarters at 4:00 PM. Details played over and over in my mind. I had to work until 4:00 P. M., but surely I could get off a few minutes early.
The day had been overwhelming: five volleyball casualties, four lost lunches, three early dismissal complete with special arrangements, two nose bleeds, and one accident. (Use your imagination!) The last child left our summer day camp at 3:48 P.M. There were exactly twelve minutes to change my clothes, run a comb through my hair and get to that switchboard. I can do it, I will do it, and I have to do it. I flew across the street, praying that my body could keep up with my legs. In front of the main door I took a deep breath and tried to walk in calmly, straight toward the switchboard. “When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but …” There stood a young woman who was quite attractive, conversing with the switchboard operator. She had a southern accent and looked about as excited as I was. I had never seen her before and I worked at the headquarters office three days a week. I asked a friend who was passing by, “Who is the woman at the switchboard?”
My friend seemed surprised that I had to ask. “That’s the visitor from Carolina who stopped to see Steve Carroll. She is meeting him here at the switchboard at 4:00 PM.”.
“Are you sure? You mean Steve Carroll, Steve Carroll who works up-stairs?” “Yes, that is exactly who I mean, I just spoke with her. She is to meet Steve Carroll at the switchboard at 4:00 PM.”
Now it’s 4:02 PM and I wanted to run. My day seemed mild compared to this dilemma. Then the elevator door opened and my wondering eye beheld Steve Carroll in person. I eased back trying to make myself invisible, while Miss Carolina made a mad dash for him. Was this the right switchboard, the wrong time or a bad dream? I wasn’t sure. Why would she go to a farewell for folks she didn’t know? After she finished greeting him, she placed her arm in his and said, “I am ready.” Ready for what would have been my reply, but I never spoke.
I watched as he looked around, as though he were missing an umbrella. No, not an umbrella, he was looking for me. He saw me standing against the wall, which I wished could have swallowed me up. “There you are. Are you ready to go?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was I ready? I had been ready for two weeks!
I just was not ready for Miss Carolina. Being the gentleman that Steve was, he introduced me to her. He said she had arrived unexpectedly and wanted to see him before she went home.
This was the only night she had free. He told her he was going to a farewell and she said that was just fine. Thus, two for one! My first date with the man of my dreams and now I was sharing it with the woman from Carolina. She clung to him like flypaper.
Miss Carolina was sweet, mushy, and very comfortable. I was the exact opposite.
Well, a little sweet. I tried to make an excuse so I wouldn’t have to go. “There is a nose bleed, no I mean a child I had to check on. My friend standing near offered to check on the child for me and urged me on. How unbelievable was this! We walked down the street to get to the subway, with none other than Steve Carroll in person; Miss Carolina to his left and I to his right. It was a long night, not to mention the ride home. When they dropped me off, Miss Carolina wanted a picture to remember the great evening. “Could you all take a picture of me and Steve?” she asked me in her southern speech. Could I take the picture? I wanted to do more than take her picture. I reminded myself that love was kind.
Two for one is great when it comes to special offers at the grocery store, but not for Steve Carroll. He was (is) a kind person, who never wanted to hurt anyone. He was gracious. I wasn’t as gracious in this situation. Disappointed, bewildered, perplexed for starters, but I was not gracious. Two for one, not for Steve Carroll! He was the man of my dreams and thirty years later I am right by his side (the right side).
I love you Steve.
Two for One
Major Betzann Carroll
It is said that there is someone for everyone, but this time there were two!
Two for one!
Could it be true? Steve Carroll, a tall, handsome, and very intelligent man asked me out. We were actually going to a special farewell for mutual friends. It was all I thought about for two weeks. Meet him at the switchboard in the main hall of The Salvation Army Headquarters at 4:00 PM. Details played over and over in my mind. I had to work until 4:00 P. M., but surely I could get off a few minutes early.
The day had been overwhelming: five volleyball casualties, four lost lunches, three early dismissal complete with special arrangements, two nose bleeds, and one accident. (Use your imagination!) The last child left our summer day camp at 3:48 P.M. There were exactly twelve minutes to change my clothes, run a comb through my hair and get to that switchboard. I can do it, I will do it, and I have to do it. I flew across the street, praying that my body could keep up with my legs. In front of the main door I took a deep breath and tried to walk in calmly, straight toward the switchboard. “When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but …” There stood a young woman who was quite attractive, conversing with the switchboard operator. She had a southern accent and looked about as excited as I was. I had never seen her before and I worked at the headquarters office three days a week. I asked a friend who was passing by, “Who is the woman at the switchboard?”
My friend seemed surprised that I had to ask. “That’s the visitor from Carolina who stopped to see Steve Carroll. She is meeting him here at the switchboard at 4:00 PM.”.
“Are you sure? You mean Steve Carroll, Steve Carroll who works up-stairs?” “Yes, that is exactly who I mean, I just spoke with her. She is to meet Steve Carroll at the switchboard at 4:00 PM.”
Now it’s 4:02 PM and I wanted to run. My day seemed mild compared to this dilemma. Then the elevator door opened and my wondering eye beheld Steve Carroll in person. I eased back trying to make myself invisible, while Miss Carolina made a mad dash for him. Was this the right switchboard, the wrong time or a bad dream? I wasn’t sure. Why would she go to a farewell for folks she didn’t know? After she finished greeting him, she placed her arm in his and said, “I am ready.” Ready for what would have been my reply, but I never spoke.
I watched as he looked around, as though he were missing an umbrella. No, not an umbrella, he was looking for me. He saw me standing against the wall, which I wished could have swallowed me up. “There you are. Are you ready to go?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was I ready? I had been ready for two weeks!
I just was not ready for Miss Carolina. Being the gentleman that Steve was, he introduced me to her. He said she had arrived unexpectedly and wanted to see him before she went home.
This was the only night she had free. He told her he was going to a farewell and she said that was just fine. Thus, two for one! My first date with the man of my dreams and now I was sharing it with the woman from Carolina. She clung to him like flypaper.
Miss Carolina was sweet, mushy, and very comfortable. I was the exact opposite.
Well, a little sweet. I tried to make an excuse so I wouldn’t have to go. “There is a nose bleed, no I mean a child I had to check on. My friend standing near offered to check on the child for me and urged me on. How unbelievable was this! We walked down the street to get to the subway, with none other than Steve Carroll in person; Miss Carolina to his left and I to his right. It was a long night, not to mention the ride home. When they dropped me off, Miss Carolina wanted a picture to remember the great evening. “Could you all take a picture of me and Steve?” she asked me in her southern speech. Could I take the picture? I wanted to do more than take her picture. I reminded myself that love was kind.
Two for one is great when it comes to special offers at the grocery store, but not for Steve Carroll. He was (is) a kind person, who never wanted to hurt anyone. He was gracious. I wasn’t as gracious in this situation. Disappointed, bewildered, perplexed for starters, but I was not gracious. Two for one, not for Steve Carroll! He was the man of my dreams and thirty years later I am right by his side (the right side).
I love you Steve.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Where Do Feelings Come From Anyway?
“Feelings, Nothing More Than feelings!” was a popular song in the seventies, which seemed to reduce love to mere feeling. “Nothing more!”
We arrived Easter Sunday morning ready to celebrate, encourage, and up-lift the congregation. Prior to the service a car drove into the parking lot. A mother got out, obviously in torment and pain as she made her plea. In the car was her twenty-six year old son sprawled out on the seat and having difficulty even speaking. “Please help me with my son? He’s been here in the recovery program before. I don’t know what to do. I am his mother and I love him. I have done everything I know, I am at a loss.” She had been picking up the pieces for him time after time, taking on his responsibilities and caring for her son. We told her to leave her son here. We would try to find him a detox. We told her to get in her car and go home to her eight year old grandson.. This love took a lot more than feelings…could she do it?
An email arrived from a woman whose feelings were raging on Easter afternoon. “I am not sure I can go on. I get so anxious and I am afraid I am going to explode. How can I even give value to my feelings? It is my husband who is dying. I love him. What can I do?” They had raised their children together, paid their bills together, and spent every night together. Feelings, there were many. Good marriages take more than feelings, much more. Now she found herself facing the impending grief and loss of the one she loved and feelings would not change that. She had shared feelings, laughter, but now felt she must go through this experience assisting her husband. Love took more than feelings…could she do it?
Another conversation with a young woman took place. She had two little babies and her husband was in trouble again. Again! How many times was this, she wasn’t counting. She only knew that again she would struggle while he practiced his favorite habit. “I love my husband, but as much as I feel for him, I need help. How can I care for these babies and deal with him. This seemed to be an impossible situation. Love takes more than feelings…could she do it?
Over and over hearts are broken, lives are shattered and hopelessly men, women and children go on wishing for more. “All You Need Is Love” is another song title. We are misled by the notion that the warm, fuzzy feelings are love. We get frustrated when the feelings we seek are just feelings and love. Love is more!
Love is letting your son go even when your heart says no. Love is overcoming the feelings of failure, abandonment and neglect. Love is more!
Love is allowing yourself to acknowledge your feelings, while dealing with your dying loved one. Love is dealing with everyday life and making decisions and plans, when you feel as if your world is falling apart. Love is more.
Love is not allowing your husband to abuse you. Love is caring for your family.
It is saying I cannot allow you to be a husband or a father to our children until you are not just sorry, but sorry enough to STOP. It is because I love you that I will not allow you to destroy yourself and your family in the process. Love is more.
“Love protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Over and over, hearts are broken and lives are shattered. They go on hopelessly captured by their feelings. Love is more than feelings. Love is hard work. It is perseverance. It is tough. Love is doing what has to be done regardless of how it makes you feel.
Love is much more than feelings.
We arrived Easter Sunday morning ready to celebrate, encourage, and up-lift the congregation. Prior to the service a car drove into the parking lot. A mother got out, obviously in torment and pain as she made her plea. In the car was her twenty-six year old son sprawled out on the seat and having difficulty even speaking. “Please help me with my son? He’s been here in the recovery program before. I don’t know what to do. I am his mother and I love him. I have done everything I know, I am at a loss.” She had been picking up the pieces for him time after time, taking on his responsibilities and caring for her son. We told her to leave her son here. We would try to find him a detox. We told her to get in her car and go home to her eight year old grandson.. This love took a lot more than feelings…could she do it?
An email arrived from a woman whose feelings were raging on Easter afternoon. “I am not sure I can go on. I get so anxious and I am afraid I am going to explode. How can I even give value to my feelings? It is my husband who is dying. I love him. What can I do?” They had raised their children together, paid their bills together, and spent every night together. Feelings, there were many. Good marriages take more than feelings, much more. Now she found herself facing the impending grief and loss of the one she loved and feelings would not change that. She had shared feelings, laughter, but now felt she must go through this experience assisting her husband. Love took more than feelings…could she do it?
Another conversation with a young woman took place. She had two little babies and her husband was in trouble again. Again! How many times was this, she wasn’t counting. She only knew that again she would struggle while he practiced his favorite habit. “I love my husband, but as much as I feel for him, I need help. How can I care for these babies and deal with him. This seemed to be an impossible situation. Love takes more than feelings…could she do it?
Over and over hearts are broken, lives are shattered and hopelessly men, women and children go on wishing for more. “All You Need Is Love” is another song title. We are misled by the notion that the warm, fuzzy feelings are love. We get frustrated when the feelings we seek are just feelings and love. Love is more!
Love is letting your son go even when your heart says no. Love is overcoming the feelings of failure, abandonment and neglect. Love is more!
Love is allowing yourself to acknowledge your feelings, while dealing with your dying loved one. Love is dealing with everyday life and making decisions and plans, when you feel as if your world is falling apart. Love is more.
Love is not allowing your husband to abuse you. Love is caring for your family.
It is saying I cannot allow you to be a husband or a father to our children until you are not just sorry, but sorry enough to STOP. It is because I love you that I will not allow you to destroy yourself and your family in the process. Love is more.
“Love protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Over and over, hearts are broken and lives are shattered. They go on hopelessly captured by their feelings. Love is more than feelings. Love is hard work. It is perseverance. It is tough. Love is doing what has to be done regardless of how it makes you feel.
Love is much more than feelings.
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