Week 8: Sam

Wow. Can you believe we’ve made it to week 8? Incredible.

In week 8 we were introduced to Sam with the following propmt:

Character name: Sam
Details: Mathematics professor, divorced, with an 8-year-old
daughter who despises math.

Nothing came to me until Saturday night. The only thing that resonated with me was a hatred for math. Finally I thought about my own daughter who also hates math and the struggles we have during homework time.


Fractions

Sam closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breathe and ran his hand through his curly hair one more time.

“No Sarah, look at it again… “

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I am never going to get this. It is useless. Just face it: I am never going to be good at math.”

As much as Sam loved spending time with his daughter he dreaded the homework hour. It was the one time of day when he felt that he was failing her.

Since the divorce he saw Sarah only every second week as he and Sharon shuttled the girl back and forth from one home to the other. When they first separated they told the teary-eyed girl that she would have two homes now, but the transition had been difficult and there were times when Sam wondered if she felt that she had a home at all.

The split had been amicable and now he and Sharon were able to sit down and discuss issues calmly. They had made a decision to try keep similar routines during their ‘Sarah weeks’: waking up at the same time each morning, eating meals at the same time and sitting at the table for an hour each night after dinner to work on homework. He wondered if Sharon was better being a tutor and he immediately felt insecure.

“Sarah, you are a smart girl and math is in your blood.” As the words came out of his mouth he wondered if they were true or if was Sarah more like her mother and gifted in other areas.

For Sam math was almost sacred. It was his favourite subject throughout school and when he graduated there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to continue studying it, researching new theories and sharing his passion with the next generation. Today he stood in front of a lecture hall of graduate students and spoke for two solid hours about John Forbes Nash and his work in differential geometry. You could have heard a pin drop as he discussed the intricacies of each theory and how they were still used and admired today.

Now, only four hours later, he was pulling his hair out trying to explain simple fractions to an 8-year old.

“Listen, maybe it will help if we use an example you can relate to.” He wrapped an arm around his daughter’s small, humped shoulders and gave her a little hug hoping to turn her mood around. “What is your favourite thing to do?”

“Shop.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and I don’t think fractions are going to help there unless you want to buy me half a CD or one third of a t-shirt.”

As she spoke Sam was taken aback by the tone of her voice which sounded more like a rebellious teenager than the beautiful little girl sitting in front of him now. Where had she learned that tone? How had she grown so quickly without him even noticing?

“No but don’t you prefer to get one-third or one quarter off the regular price?”

Sarah sighed again and sat up reluctantly to look at the page in front of her. “I guess…”

It was a small victory but he relished it nonetheless and knew that he would replay this moment in his head next week when the table was empty and he was feeling like only half a parent.


I urge you to visit The Character Project at http://wegotcharacter.wordpress.com and take some time to read some of the other submissions. Sam had a lot of different faces!

My journey to motherhood

Happy Mother's Day! In honour of the occasion I wanted to share a little bit about my personal journey to motherhood.
When I first got married I did not want kids. I was twenty-three and I had a degree and a job I loved. I was marrying a man who already had a child so he was comfortable with my decision and for the first two years of our marriage Paul and I were childless by choice.
At age 25 my hormones blind-sided me and I realized that I wanted to change course: I wanted a baby. Unfortunately my body was not co-operative (I will spare you all the gory details). After several months of blood tests, painful medical procedures and disappointing at-home pregnancy tests Paul and I ended up in front of a specialist who matter-of-factly informed us there was a strong possibility we would never have a child.
They had determined that I have a condition called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome PCOS). At the time, doctors were less familiar with the condition so my gynecologist put me on a long waiting list for the fertility clinic at the Ottawa Hospital. I was depressed and frustrated. Further exacerbating the issue, it seemed that everyone I knew was getting pregnant. That year Paul and I had a Christmas party where FOUR couples announced that they were expecting. While part of me was thrilled for them by the time couple number four spoke up I excused myself for a moment, went to the kitchen and cried.
I boycotted baby showers opting to make excuses and send a gift rather than sit in a room of pregnant women who were grumbling about pains of pregnancy and the joy of motherhood. I also avoided any conversation that started with: do you guys have kids? you really should, kids are so wonderful, you don't know what you are missing. To this day I will never ask someone if they have children. If they do it will come up in conversation. If they don't, there is likely a reason for it.
By the time I was finally called in to see the specialist I had already gone several rounds with a crazy medication called Clomid which is used to stimulate ovulation. It plays havoc with your hormones and has some strong side-effects -- not the least of which is something I like to call Clomid-rage. My temper would turn on a dime and on one occasion I physically attacked a vending machine that took one of my quarters. Paul did not fare much better and after a yelling match in the middle of a hardware store (I was the only one yelling) we decided that our marriage would be stronger if we did not go for round four.
The fertility specialist we were assigned to was not a warm or welcoming man. He sat down for a long interview filled with very personal questions and a strong dose of reality. There were several options available but they were all very invasive and time-consuming. Each round would cost thousands of dollars and there was less than a thirty per cent chance we would end up with a baby. (Keep in mind this was more than 10 years ago. Today I believe that PCOS is much more understood and treatable.)
We were advised to start with IUI (intrauterine insemination). Basically I would give myself an injection each day for anywhere from 10 to twenty days to stimulate my hormones and produce multiple eggs. Every two to three days I would present myself at the hospital at 7:30 am for blood tests and an ultrasound. That day I would need to be by a phone between one to two in the afternoon as a nurse would be calling me with dosage information and further instructions for the coming days. This information would not be left on an answering machine nor with anyone else so you needed to be by the phone waiting.
The ultrasound allowed the doctors to know how many eggs were developing. If you were not going fast enough they upped the doses. If there were too many eggs coming along the cycle was stopped and you started again in two months. The clinic did not take any chances with higher-order multiples and would not inseminate in you had more than four eggs coming along. Period.
The process was all-consuming. Paul and I did not tell a lot of people what we were going through as opinions about fertility treatments tend to be strong and often ill-informed. My body reacted sluggishly, dosages were often re-calibrated and at one point I was nearly cancelled. In the end three eggs were deemed acceptable and three weeks later I found out that I was pregnant. I was over the moon.
The elation was short lived and I lost the baby early in the pregnancy. The doctors and nurses who had monitored almost every element of conception could only shake their heads and say: sometimes this happens. If you are going to lose this baby there is nothing we can do about it.
I was beyond devastated and told Paul that I was done. I could not face the clinic again. I did not want to give myself any more needles. I was simply not strong enough to do it again. He listened, he held me when I sobbed and after two weeks he put his foot down. We had come too far to give up. It worked once. It was going to work again.
My first doctor had left on sabbatical and had been replaced by a wonderful man who I trusted immediately. He was sympathetic to our loss and assured me that they had learned a lot from my first cycle and that this go-around would be easier. He was right. Six weeks later I learned that I was pregnant again.
Paul and I named our first daughter Grace because it means Gift from God. We wanted a constant reminder that this child was truly a gift and a miracle. Four years later (it took a few years to convince myself to go through the process again) Kathryn arrived and our family was complete.
I love my children and I love being a mother. It is a crazy job with bad hours but it is so rewarding to watch my girls grow and learn.
I have a tattoo on my back with a symbol representing each of my children and the lesson I learned on each journey. Gracie's symbol is STRONG because I learned along the way that I was strong enough to handle the pain and come out on the other side. Kathryn's symbol is FAITH because I was able to put my trust in God and try again and I was rewarded with a remarkable little person. Finally I have a symbol for HEAVEN for the baby I lost and who I believe I will meet one day when this life is over.
Happy Mother's Day everyone. Whether your journey to motherhood was quick or long, arduous or unexpected, the destination is worth the ride.

Week 7: Alfred

Week 7 was a unique challenge we were given a picture of an older gentleman and told to write a story about him. The story could be from any time in his life, any moment. If you have been to the Character Proejct site (and I urge you again to check it out) you can see a picture we had to work with.

As always, there were “bonus points” if one could link him up with a previous week’s character.

I 'knew' who Alfred was immediately but I was reluctant to do the story as it was my first challenge using dialog to tell the story. In the end it just flowed for me and I was a little surprised by one of the previous characters who popped up along the way. The result was one of my favorite of the scenes I have created so far.

***

Lightening Never Strikes Twice

“Come in…”

Chris turned his head just in time to see the old man enter the room and rushed forward wrapping him in a careful hug.

“Grandpa! You made it! I can’t believe you’re here. “

“Of course I’m here,” Alfred said patting the young man firmly on the back. “I don’t usually leave Florida to head North in February but how could I miss seeing my only grandson get married?“

“Thanks Grandpa, it means so much to me that you’re here. Where’s grandma?”

“Well, you know your grandmother. She needed to stop by the powder room to put on a little more lipstick. Also, your mother was going to see about finding her a corsage and getting her to sit down; she gets a little tired nowadays when we travel.” Alfred pulled a starched white handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

“I am sure Amy ordered enough flowers to outfit the entire church,” Chris said laughing and shook his head.

“I saw Amy at the door when we arrived. She is certainly a force to be reckoned with,” Alfred observed.

“This is quite the event she has planned here,” Alfred said gesturing at all of the decorations in the church lobby. “It must have cost you two a fortune.”

“We’re way over budget, Grandpa. She actually got another credit card without telling me and has already maxed it out. She thinks I don’t know about it but she forgot that the payment comes out of our joint account.”

“Can I give you a little advice – from someone who has been married for almost sixty years?” Alfred asked with a gleam in his eye.

“Sure…”

“Don’t tell her that you know. First of all, it will do her good to stew a while and worry about having to tell you. Second, it never hurts to have something like that in your back pocket in case you need some bonus points down the road.”

“Thanks Grandpa. That sounds like a good plan.”

Chris gestured towards a large armchair in the corner of the room. “Why don’t you sit down and keep me company. The wedding doesn’t start for another half hour and I’m going a little stir crazy here.”

Alfred lowered himself into the chair with a groan. “You look happy, Chris. I have to tell you I was not always sure about you and Amy but the more I see the two of you together the more I think you’re good for each other. She’s got spunk but you seem to know how to handle her.”

“She’s the one grandpa.”

“Well there was a time in my life when I would have agreed with you but now that I am older I wonder if there is really one perfect person out there for everyone.”

“What?” Chris felt his head jerk back as if someone had slapped him. “I thought you and grandma were destined for each other.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love your grandmother with all my heart but when I was your age there was another woman who was ‘the one’ for me.”

“Grandpa what are you talking about?” Chris sat down in the chair across from his grandfather and looked at his watch. “We have some time here. Why don’t you tell me about her.”

Alfred chuckled softly and cleared his throat.

“Her name was Maggie and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had long, dark hair and dark eyes. She was small but by God she had a fire in her belly that knocked me out. Brazen—that’s what they called it back in those days. My mother always thought Maggie was too wild for own good but I fell in love with her from the first moment I saw her.”

“She was sitting in a coffee shop with a girl I had known in high school. When I went over to say hello they invited me to join them. By the time I had finished my cup of coffee I was hooked.

“I remember when I stood up to leave — she stared right into my eyes and said ‘I work at the pharmacy counter on Main Street if you ever want to come by and say hello.’

“I went by every day for two months,” Alfred said sheepishly and Chris noticed a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“What happened? Was there someone else?” Chris asked.

“No,” the old man said with regret. “I loved her but after a few weeks I realized that I was not the man for her. I knew I would never be strong enough to deal with a woman who had so much fight in her. Back then no one was looking for a strong-willed woman.

“She was like a lightening bolt –bright and powerful — but I was always embarrassed around her because she laughed so loud and would talk back to the men who came into the pharmacy.

“So, I just stopped going…” Alfred said nothing for a few moments and simply stared at the handkerchief he had been winding around his fingers.

“I found out a month later that she was getting married. I didn’t have the nerve to face her so I took a job in the next town and left without saying goodbye.”

“Do you know whatever happened to her?” Chris asked softly.

“Well, right now I imagine she is sitting in the front pew talking your grandmother’s ear off,” Alfred said with a laugh.

“Aunt Margaret?” Chris gasped. “Maggie is Aunt Margaret!”

Chris looked around suddenly and whispered, “Does grandma know?”

“Of course she does,” Alfred said with a laugh. “She has known all along. In fact, Margaret set us up.

“You see, I came back to town once a month to visit my mother but I was careful to avoid the pharmacy. One day, though, I ran into Margaret at the same cafe where we had first met.

“I was stunned to see her. She was just as beautiful as the first day I saw her. She told me she was married but that her little sister had taken a fancy to me and would I be interested in meeting them for lunch the next afternoon.

“I went – only to see Maggie of course – but I could see that Stella was a fine woman. She had a gentle way about her and she was kind. She looked at me with eyes that made me feel ten feet tall. I knew that this was a woman I could build a life with. We were married three months later.”

Chris sat in silence for a moment then shook his head and stared at the old man. “Wow… just, wow…”

“I have never regretted marrying your grandmother,” Alfred said looking Chris straight in the eye. “We had two beautiful daughters and three wonderful grandchildren. We had a quiet, safe life. But over the years, I have to admit that there have been times when wondered ‘what if’…

“Chris,” he said softly. “If you think you are strong enough, hold onto that lightening bolt.”