Maria's Last Song

It was mid-morning and Maggie and her husband, Howie, were in the kitchen eagerly preparing the food for their annual Forth of July bar-b-que.

While meticulously carving out the watermelon for her signature fruit salad, Maggie sternly makes an appeal to her husband. “How’, I want you to behave today; Maria is bringing over that nice new boy and I don’t want you, or anyone else, to scare him away especially after the last disastrous relationship she just ended."

Stunned, Howie responds, “You think I’d embarrass our Maria? I can’t believe you! I’m just happy she kicked that other guy out on his a—“

“I get it, dear! Oh, babe one more thing?"

Glancing at his attractive wife, Howie impulsively shuts her up with a passionate kiss on her mouth. As if on cue, their youngest daughter, Becky, interrupts their romantic interlude and beckons them to the phone.

Without looking at either of her parents, a disgusted Becky quickly leaves the kitchen while muttering, “You guys are so gross!"

Within minutes, a troubled Howie hangs up the phone.

“Everything alright?" Maggie asks.

“Yeah, I guess. Sam has been trying to contact Maria for the past three hours and she’s not answering the door or phone. I think I’m going to go to her place and check in on her."

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that dear, she’s probably soaking in a nice bubble bath and making herself pretty. Hey, if you’re going that way, I bought her a bottle of Channel No. 5 perfume — can you please give it to her?"

Taking his wife in his arms once again, Howie looks deeply in her eyes and says, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

Maggie places her arms around her husband’s neck and, in a sexy whisper, responds, “No, Mr. Botti, I don’t believe you have but if you hang around, you may tell me all you want tonight after everyone leaves."

***

“C’mon Maggie, outa the kitchen — everyone’s here already!"

“Okay, Lorraine, I’m just checking the ribs; I’ll be out in a few minutes."

While Maggie pours the last of the barbeque sauce on the ribs, she glances at the clock and wonders why Howie hasn’t come home from Maria’s yet. In a moment of panic, she calls his cell phone one last time.

“Hullo?"

“Who’s this?" Maggie asks.

“It’s Sam. This Mrs. Botti?"

“Yes, Sam, it is — what’s going on? I have a houseful of guests but no husband here to help me."

“Mrs. B—“

“Maggie?"

“Howie? What’s going on? Where are you? Is everything alright?"

In a shaky voice, her husband replies, “No, Maggie, everything is not alright. Our girl’s —."

Inherently, Maggie interrupts her husband, “Where are you?"

“Maria’s."

“Don’t go anywhere—I’ll be right there."

Although her granddaughter lives only seven blocks away, each city block seems a mile long. Desperately sensing danger, Maggie runs the entire distance while pushing everyone in sight out of her way.

At long last, she breathlessly arrives at her granddaughter’s apartment building and is immediately terror-stricken when she spies policemen and an EMT crew entering the front lobby.

Once inside the apartment building, an agitated Maggie opts for the stairs instead of the crowded elevator and hastens up the entire fourteen floors until she reaches Maria’s apartment. Similar to a tigress protecting her own, she forcibly pushes her way through the crowded open door and looks for her Maria. Oblivious to the crime scene tape and everyone around her, she follows the bloodstained path on the plush white carpet straight to the bathtub and bellows out a scream that could be heard throughout Manhattan.

Sometime in the early morning, Maria’s ex-boyfriend, Tom, who is bipolar and overcome with jealously, sneaks into her apartment and slits her throat. An aspiring songwriter, Tom writes his final love song in Maria’s own blood entitled, “Maria’s Last Song."

***

As I pen this true account, my heart aches for the senseless, tragic ending of an extraordinary young woman and her family. How does one comfort those who have experienced such violence?

What words of wisdom console?

Right now, I know of none.

A woman of faith, I know of no prayer, no advice nor any acts of kindness that will console this grieving family. I choose silence and cry with them and allow them to “feel" their pain.

Silently, I fervently pray to the Lord to bestow his healing love upon this grieving family.

I am ashamed that my compassion does not extend toward the murderer. I do not understand mental illness but I do understand that many violent crimes are committed with attorney’s pleading the insanity defense.

What does this mean? Sadly, I seek no literal meanings at this time. I can only see a senseless crime that was viciously violent.

Did Tom not take his meds? I don’t know, but I do know that Tom is a heavy pot smoker and likes to snort an occasional line or two of coke. Any connection?

Maybe. I don’t do drugs so I don’t know.

At the request of a friend, I try to seek answers in the Bible.

The terms “bipolar" or “manic depression" refer to a condition described as “a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in a person’s mood, energy, and ability to function. Different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through, the symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. It is diagnosed based upon particular characteristics. The Bible does not address the issue of medical treatment for this condition. However, the Bible does provide accounts of those individuals that exhibited bipolar characteristics. The Bible also provides instructions for dealing with many of the characteristics. Typical characteristics associated with bipolar are considered either manic or depressive.

Psychology considers bipolar to be a disorder of the brain. Without debating the accuracy of that statement, one should still conclude that regardless of the affliction that might be upon the physical brain, there are certain responsibilities placed upon an individual to choose what things will be the focus of attention.

I believe that we all have the indwelling ability to be either good or bad. I also believe that living a righteous life is a choice.

Tom made his choice when he committed murder.

In sadness, I am not ready to pray for Tom yet, but perhaps someone else is.


©2008 Judi Lake. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.

###

Judi Lynn Lake has kept up with leading edge business trends throughout her varied and successful career. She had already had her "15 minutes of fame" over and over again before starting her family. Judi and her family now reside in South Carolina, but, having been born and raised on Long Island, NY, it is clearly evident that she will always be a "New Yorker." Today, she successfully runs her own advertising agency which handles everything from logos, branding and package design while she continues to work closely with self-published authors from design to promotion. For more information, visit judilake.com

The Writing Desk and Freedom

“Mamma, you’re just like Thomas Jefferson!"

Confused, I ask, “Huh? What’ja talking about baby girl?"

“Well, you’re curious and are always jotting down your thoughts just like him ‘cept there’s one thing you don’t have that he did."

“And that is?"

“A writing desk!"

“Laura, what does that have to do with Thomas Jefferson?"

“Dontcha know, silly mommy?"

“No, I guess I don’t — why don’t you tell me?"

As my “big" little girl crawls on my lap, she begins to tell me a story:

“Okay, but you can’t interrupt like you always do."

Tightly hugging my girl, I “pinkie-promise" I won’t interrupt.

“Okay, we’re gonna travel back in time to the 1700s. Ready? Here goes: clippity-clop, clippity-clop, went the horses’ hooves as the wagon bounced over the stones in the rough road."

“Laura, what—“

Sternly, my daughter looks up at me and demands silence with her eyes. “Mommy, you promised! Shh-hh! Anyway, the man driving the wagon didn’t seem to mind the bumpy ride one bit because he was too busy scanning his surroundings. Even though Thomas Jefferson drove that route a million times before, he always learned something new. Because he was curious, he always wanted to learn and, no matter where he went, he carried a notebook to write down all answers to his unending questions.

“Then one day, as he was busy writing, he began to think that maybe it would be easier to carry a desk with him wherever he went—“

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, Lau?"

“Mommy, you pinkie-promised! Last time you interrupt! And no, silly, he wasn’t going to carry a great big desk — this is when he decided to invent the writing desk. Because he was an architect, he drew up plans and had a carpenter build it and it was really cool. “When the desk was closed it looked like a book but when opened, it could be tilted into a writing position and had a drawer to hold all his papers, pens and ink."

“That is cool, honey, I didn’t know that."

Exasperated, my daughter rolls her eyes and continues, “Well Mr. Jefferson was really proud of his desk and now could take notes anytime he wanted. Meanwhile, there was a lot happening in Philadelphia because the thirteen colonies we really mad with England. Even though the colonists were loyal Englishmen, the King of England was making stupid laws that the colonists thought were unfair."

“Like the Bailout thing yesterday?"

“Exactly! Anyway, the colonists decided to gather up some really smart men and discuss the problems with England. Two important meetings were held in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania that was called the Continental Congress.

“At this meeting, Thomas Jefferson and some other men felt that the American colonies should be independent from England and that America should have her own government. The men talked and talked for hours but Jefferson just listened and absorbed all the information. With a unanimous vote, all agreed that the colonies should not belong to England and be free states. They all concluded that a paper should be drawn declaring our freedom but were confused about who should write such an important document."

“You talking about the Declaration of Independence?"

“Yup! A few men were finally chosen but because of Thomas Jefferson’s superior writing skills the task was given to him. So Jefferson quietly went to the back room and, using his writing desk, wrote the Declaration of Independence. So you see why his writing desk was so important, Mommy? We might not have had Independence Day had it not been for his invention!"

“I didn’t know all this, Lau — thank you for this wonderful story! But there’s more, isn’t there?"

“Yes, but you finish, Mommy."

“Okay, baby girl. On July 4, 1776, all the men of the Second Continental Congress voted to accept Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence. This declaration is very important because it states America’s beliefs about government. This document tells the world that the people of the United States of America believe that God has given each person the right to “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

“When the Declaration was read to the people of Philadelphia on July 8, 1776, everyone cheered for their independence. Cannons boomed and people paraded through the streets of Philadelphia with torches. As I read this excerpt, Laura, imagine with me that we are there, on that very day, amongst the cheerful crowd:

“The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America, We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security."

And silently, as I read this excerpt with my daughter, I pray that we, as true Americans, remember what our forefathers fought for, what our country stands for, and, in solidarity and peace, unite once again as one Nation Under God for the sake of our land and for the sake of our children.

May God help our vulnerable America.

©2008 Judi Lynn Lake. All rights reserved worldwide.

Judi Lynn Lake has kept up with leading edge business trends throughout her varied and successful career. She had already had her ‘15 minutes of fame’ over and over again before starting her family. Judi and her family now reside in South Carolina but, having been born and raised on Long Island, NY, it is clearly evident that she will always be a "New Yorker." Today, she successfully runs her own advertising agency which handles everything from logos, branding and package design while she continues to work closely with self-published authors from design to promotion.