Who's Coming?

I am blessed to be living in Jersey City, eight minutes by train from the greatest city in the world. New York is full of history, tho not the first place I think of when thinking of American history. Boston, Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. are the first in my mind for that kind of thing.

Tonight, sitting in my room around midnight, I heard bells pealing from the local churches. This is normal for a Sunday morning-about 9am every Sunday the bells ring, and I am reminded that I should be heading to church. Maybe next week. It is a little bit strange, though, to hear the bells at midnight. Then, I realized it's Easter Sunday morning. It seems that I remember bells ringing overnight once or twice before, not surprisingly, most likely on Christmas Eve.

They have rung at least three different times tonight, in fact, at 1:15am was most recent. I am not bothered by the ringing in the middle of the night, but such extended jubilation kind of makes me think of Revolutionary times. While I doubt that any of the churches in the neighborhood now were standing in the late 1700's, it is easy to see how the church bells would be a signal for the town.

"The British are coming!" Or, "get your bucket and rush to the fire!" Neither of which would be any kind of good news, it definitely makes me wonder if I should be doing something. I think I'm just going to assume that the bells are pealing the tidings of Jesus' resurrection and hope that the neighborhood is standing tomorrow.

Happy Easter 2010!

I Quit!

Saturday, March 27 at 2pm, I quit smoking. At 11pm, I had my last cigarette. It's been almost 60 hours. My main reason for doing this was not health, but financial. I mentioned that I had "soft quit" to my cousin, and she asked if I would like to be quitting buddies. We are supposed to email our frustrations to each other-those things that might cause one to run outside and take a puff.

I realized that writing to one or to many is similar, so I will write here and email the link to her. That's similar, right? I have a five-day head start on my writing, so, I will write mostly chronologically. But first, an incident at work yesterday that would make non-smokers want to start.

A lady came into the store sometime after 6pm, but not too late. She was looking for cards, and walked past the counter, pushing the button on one of our animated bears. She looked up, smiled and said "I bet you hate me now."

I said, "No, no, its fine!"

She walked away and her phone rang. It was similar to those sunny days when the clouds roll in and you can see an immediate difference. Her face transformed from a sunny smile to utter confusion. "Please tell me she's OK. She's not dead is she??" I didn't want to pry, but it was hard to ignore her frantic questions.

She sunk to the floor, her legs visibly turning to jelly. Her face screwed into grief, and she repeated, "Please, just tell me she's OK!"

She hung up the phone and I walked over and kneeled down. I found out that her mother hadn't been feeling well, so she was in the hospital. She had a fever then a molar infection, requiring an extraction. The lady said she had spoken to her mother yesterday and she was feeling better, but this afternoon had begun to feel worse again. The phone call was from her brother who said to get her husband and get to the hospital. She was begging to know whether her mother had passed away or not, and her brother refused to answer on the phone. She showed me her phone and asked if I could read a text message she received. It said, "Not good. On respiratory."

Either way, the situation wasn't good, and this poor lady had to wait for her husband to arrive and pick her up. I offered her a stool to sit on while she waited and she showed me a picture of her mother in her phone. She looked familiar and I asked if she was also a customer at the store. She said no, that her mother lives on Long Island, and that I probably knew her aunt.

I really am not good at these sensitive things, but I did what I could. What a terrible situation! To find out, or not, that your mother may have passed away while you are out shopping must be horrible. All I knew was that after she left, I only wanted a cigarette. I can only imagine that she did, too.