Nothing in life surprised her or angered her for that matter. She took all life doled out to her in stride. Good times, bad times – it didn’t matter. It was all a part of living, and as long as her family had a roof and a meal, things were just fine with her. She never asked for much from life and life kept its part of the bargain by not offering her much in return.

She lived in a working-class neighborhood for all her 75 years. Now, it was turning into a no-working class neighborhood. But she was proud of the fact that she still held a job. It didn’t pay much, but that was of no consequence to her. She had a reason to rise with the sun and to be out and about in the morning rush hour, although truth be told she was not one to rush. Slow and steady got her through the days, the weeks, the months and the years.

Every morning she stepped through her row house threshold, waving to her neighbors as she walked to the bus stop; her pocketbook strung across her body as a practical safety precaution against pickpockets. Sometimes she would meet the other strap hangers and listen to their jabbering about the local news or politics while they wait- ed for the bus to meander down to their corner. She would bob her head in agreement, whether she agreed or not, but always with that bemused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She found the good in everyone and everything. A fashion plate she was not, but her clothes were neat and clean and every now and again a pink ribbon would appear in her hair – a nod to a woman’s prerogative to look pretty when she so chose to do so. Every day she braved whatever weather conditions Mother Nature saw fit to launch on this small pocket of the globe. But on those so-few perfect days when the sun enveloped her and the sapphire sky stretched to infinity, she thanked God for her good fortune. She took neither good timing nor good luck for granted.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew her but yet knew nothing about her. They knew she had raised a family in the same home in which she was raised. They vaguely remembered a husband who had passed away years before, but that was about it. No one knew her likes or dislikes, her hopes or fears, her dreams or nightmares. She was like God in that respect, always there in the background but seldom front and center. They did not know how much she missed her Jimmy, the love of her life or how proud she was of her son and daughter. Both of them had moved out of the neighborhood but they were good to her. They worried about her living alone and tried to convince her to leave the city but she would hear none of it. This is where she be- longed and where she felt most at home.

She faithfully attended Sunday mass and while sitting quietly in the first pew she would think of how important that church had been in her life. Here she had received her First Communion and taken her wedding vows. But it was also in this hallowed spot where she stoically walked behind the caskets of her mother, father and husband. Each loss left a hole in her heart; however, she realized the sun rose and set every day and so she soldiered on.

She was thankful for all the good she had experienced and accepting of all the bad. And she knew she was bless- ed with the greatest gift God could give any of us. Contentment. She was content. Content with her life, past and present. Content with a future that held no guarantees. And content to face death with that bemused look upon her face.

He’s not sure why he’s so surprised. After all, most people refer to him as a know-it-all. He has a reputation for envisioning what’s going to happen before it happens. But that reputation is misguided. All he does is put things in motion. He leaves the actual execution up to the underlings. Sometimes they perform extremely well and other times, well, let’s just say not so much. He provides the tools, but they provide the sweat and manpower. He has a general sense of what’s supposed to occur from a mountain top view but as the saying goes, the devil is in the details.

His work ethic is incomparable. 24/7, 365 days a year he is steering the ship, manning the lifeboats, hanging the moon, shining the stars, nudging the throngs along through their weary days. And yet there are still moments that take him completely by surprise and he questions himself. How is he, as powerful as he is, able to misjudge the impact of human emotion?

When he worked out the plan, he knew that the people involved were going to complicate things, but he was hop- ing for the best. What he failed to realize was their effect on each other. He was thinking strictly in terms of him and them – not them and them. Obviously, relationships would be built in order to get the job done but ah! That is where his plan veered off the road a bit. Passion, commitment, determination, responsibility and love. These were all admirable traits he hoped to find in his worker bees, but it is the depth of these traits that he underestimated.

How could he not have known how hollow one of his men would feel on the loss of his lifelong comrade? How did he not know how many tears would be shed by a woman on the loss of her child? Why would a heroic sacrifice of one life to save another shock him to his core? He expected a certain level of evil would creep into the mainstream of their lives but the intensity of their love for each other left him shaking his head. He had no idea how much they would depend on each other, intertwine their lives around each other and in the end love each other.

If he could do it all over, would he? Would he make it so only their surface would be scratched and not their entire being? Would he step in and take control so to avoid any sadness and despair later on? No, he wouldn’t change a thing. Their deepest lows were the result of their highest highs and he could not take those away. They are the stuff of life – the life he breathed into each of them on the day they were created. Yes, he may have missed the mark on just how much they would do for each other, how much they would love each other, and how much they would mourn each other’s loss. But while he cried rivers of tears with them and for them, he would continue to be surprised by them, and at those moments he would smile with them at a job well done.

He could give no more
His strength was waning
No more answers could be found
Or choices offered.

They relied on him to show the way
The light of his soul beckoned them to move forward and onward
No harm could touch them in his presence
He was their calm in the storm.

Yet, he doubted his voice
And inwardly trembled with the load that he bore
He could do no more to save them
He knew he had failed them, and they would suffer because of it.

But their eyes upon him
Strengthened his soul
And so he moved forward and onward
No time for self-indulgent pity, penance, guilt or reflection.

A job must be done and done well
He would not and could not turn his back on them now
Nor could he fail, so forward and onward he pushed
Captain and leader. Now and forever.

She placed her drink back down on the bar and looked around. Soon, her lips curled upwards slightly until they throttled into a full-blown smile. This is how it should be. Jack’s Place was back at 100% capacity. No masks. People chattering, boisterous laughter bouncing against all four walls. Shuffleboard teams battling out a competition for another round of drinks. Football games on every TV. Jukebox music playing in the background. Little things to be sure but without them we were like a prize fighter knocked out in the first round. The ref kept counting but we couldn’t stand up. And then one glorious day we were splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water and found our legs sturdy and strong under us.

But while we were down for the count, we learned a lot in our unconscious state. We learned there are other ways of doing things. We learned our fellow human beings actually come through at 200%. And we learned if you want to avoid a logistical nightmare, don’t let the government get involved. We would have never envisioned what did happen would ever happen. Businesses shuttered, empty airplanes sitting on runways, conference rooms and cubicles collecting dust, hospitals full of patients but no visitors, schoolrooms evolving into a Hollywood Squares-like menagerie of faces on a computer screen watching a teach- er standing in her kitchen.

In hindsight, the whole thing seems miraculous. The world sputtered for a few seconds but then got right back to revolving around the sun, although sadly with less inhabitants than she had started with. We adapted. And now here she sat on her old familiar stool with her old familiar friends. The pandemic experience had caused some to age a little harder than others, but they were here. Lessons to be learned? Too many to count. But it can be summed up in one sentence. Do not take anything for granted...ever...again. Even the smallest personal joy might be ripped from you. And the worst personal nightmare could be moments away.

She lifted her glass in thanksgiving and said a little prayer of gratitude. She needed no camera to snap a picture as a reminder. In her mind’s eye the scene before her would forever be imprinted. Life had indeed gone on while we were lying flat on the mat but now, we were up and jabbing away and loving every minute of it.