"How
did your week go, guys?" Ollie asks as the entire gang comes chattering
through the gate.
"Fantastic,
guilt-ridden, Great, Better." All give Ollie a hug.
"Look
what Twinkie brought," Simad says, finding his chair around the table.
"Brownies, my favorite chocolately thing. Thanks, Twinkie," He sat
down then bounced up. "Why do we always sit in the same place? Isn't that
strange? Let's mix it up. Twinkie, I'm sitting in your chair."
"You're
welcome, Simad." Twinkie sits her plate down, runs over, jumps on his lap,
and throws her arms around his neck. You're in my chair," she says.
Somewhat taken aback, Simad finally collects
himself and says, "Why didn't I think of this sooner?"
She kisses
his forehead. "You sat in my chair, you get sat upon." She pops up
and runs back to her plate, rips off the plastic wrap, and places it beside the
tray on the table set with coffee, tea, hot water, an ice bucket, cream, sugar,
and lemons.
"Is
that laced with anything, Twinkie?" asks Harvey.
"Nope,
It's pure unadulterated melted chocolate, flour—you know, from scratch, regular
stuff." She opens a jar and begins to dribble chocolate across the tops of
the brownies.
Everyone
dives in for a brownie, coffee, tea, whatever is already on the table and
settles into their seats.
"Twinkie,"
says Harvey, "I'd expect Twinkies from you. Oh, do they make Twinkies
anymore?"
"I
don't think so," Twinkie says finding a chair, but I loved them as a
kid—that's how I got my name. But when I learned that if you place one on a
porch railing, it will still be fresh six months later. I envisioned one
sitting in my stomach like a petrified rock. That stopped me. These are to
thank you guys for last week. I'm unflappable today."
"How
so, Twinkie? Tell us."
"I was so anxious to tell you guys.” She
sat forward in her chair, “I did as Shal suggested. I meditated every day for
six days—today will be the seventh."
"What happened?" asked Shal.
"I was
miserable for the first two days. I couldn't stop thinking of a zillion other
things I'd rather be doing. And then, on the third day, I got this message. It
read: "Dear Twinkie, I gave you a heart, a brain, and courage. Use
them." Signed, 'God'."
"Where
did you find that message?" asks Harvey.
"Oh,
Harvey, I didn't suddenly go bonkers and hear voices or find golden tablets. I
wrote it in my notebook. It was a message from me to me—or from God. It got me
thinking. I want to do what I want to do. And you know what that is?"
"No,
tell us," said Ollie, sitting in her not usual chair. "This is sort
of like who won the Design Challenge."
"It was
sort of like that," says Twinkie. "I watched "Blown Away,"
the glass-blowing competition for inspiration. I've always wanted to try my
hand at blowing glass. And not those little figurines you see at fairs, but the
big stuff, bowls, and artwork. I thought Glass blowing was for big husky men,
and I'm 5 foot 5 and what they call petite. With that show, I saw that a woman
can do it. In fact, a woman won the competition.
"My
arguments against it were that I thought I didn't have the strength or couldn't
take the heat. I wasn't creative enough, or that I couldn't learn it. I thought
my skin would dry up in front of a furnace every day, but I noticed the women
had beautiful skin. Maybe it's like a sweat lodge where you sweat out the
toxins—like from all those Twinkies I had as a kid--I'm strong. I can run five
miles. But then there are those people who have 30 years of experience, and I'm
28 and just starting. And then there is the time and money. My roommate and I
are just squeaking by working at Sacs, but I'm doing it. I found a teacher at
the coast, so I'm driving over every Saturday and apprenticing under him."
"I can
see it, "Twinkie's Twinkling Glass." Says Sally. "I'll
commission a chandelier. Here's to you, Twinkie."
[Applause.
Cheers!]
"And you have a customer already,
"says Ollie. "Who has a customer before they have a product?!
Twinkie, look what you did."
"It
will take a while, Sally, before I produce a reasonable piece. I have a lot to
learn."
"I
know, but you got started. I'm proud of you."
"The
idea," says Shal, "is to begin wherever you are. When a gardener told
John F. Kennedy that the tree he wanted planted would take 100 years to mature,
Kennedy said, "Then you better plant it now."
"Is
that tree still there?"
"I
don't know."
"So,
says Shal, how did everyone else do?"
"I
completely zoned out one day," says Simad. "After writing until about
midnight, I collapsed into bed with all meditation forgotten, then felt guilty
the next day."
"Hey,"
says Ollie," don't beat yourself up. Just take a step back and regroup. We
aren't saints, you know."
"I
meditated the next day."
"There
you go."
"Well,"
says Harvey, "I didn't do so well. It was painful. Every time I sat down,
I thought of Liz."
"Oh
Harvey," says Sally, "how long has it been?"
"Liz
died two years ago on October 2."
"I'm so
sorry you must go through that, Harvey," says Sally.
They could
see he was beginning to tear up, and led by Ollie, the group gathered around
his chair. Everyone put their arms around him, around each other, and genuinely
wanted to take away Harvey's pain.
When they
released him and each other, Harvey had tears rolling down his cheeks.
"I
nev-er- cri-ed that day. I was too angry to cry. I loved her."
"We are
here for you, Harvey, "Ollie said when they were seated.
"I know
you guys try to stay upbeat," Harvey leaned his forehead into his palm.
"I didn't want to bring you guys down."
"Nobody
stays upbeat when they're hurting Harvey. We're here for all our feelings, not
just the happy ones. Yes, we emphasize looking on the bright side, but, Harvey, all feelings are important, and
we want the sharing to be whatever is going on in our lives. I would love to
hear about Liz. How about if you introduce her to us."
"Yes, I
would like that. After a while, my friends and family stopped talking about
her. It's as though they forgot her or don't want to remember, and it seems
they want me to do so as well. Let it go...and you know this stupid thing about
closure? Well, it's a damn lie."
"Oh,
Harvey, we never forget about the people we love. To this day, I miss my mom. I
ask her advice every couple of days. Of course, she usually says what she said
when I was a kid. 'I trust you. You'll figure it out.'"
People
chuckled, even Harvey, who blew his nose with a big honk.
The groups
almost laughed but stifled themselves.
"All
the sweetness of Liz's family went straight into Liz. That's in contrast to me
being a big lummox."
"You
aren't a lummox, Harvey," said Twinkie, 'You're a big teddy bear."
"That's
what Liz said. She was the light of my life; at 60, her light went out, just
like that. One day, it was on, the next day off. You know how you come home
after work? 'Hi Honey, I'm home.' I went to her office, and she wasn't there,
but I knew the next place to look, the garden. In those days, she was hauling
in cucumbers by the bucketful’s. I found her on the ground like she had decided
to nap among the carrots. When I realized she was gone, I yelled until the
neighbors heard me and came to my aid. The coroner said she had a heart attack.
I didn't know she had a bad heart. I thought her heart was the grandest thing
about her. Well, she was pretty, too. And a good mom and a good wife. I believe
in soul mates, for she was mine."
"I'm
glad you found yours, Harvey."
"It
isn't fair, is it?" says Shal," Sometimes it seems as though the
sweet ones leave early and the ornery ones stick around until the last cow
comes home."
"When I
see Liz, I will ask her if her cow came home."
"I'd
like to hear her answer," says Sally. "Harvey, do you see your
kids?"
"Yeah,
I see them a couple times a year. They're busy. They love their pop, but it has
been different since Liz died. We're careful like we're glass."
"Maybe
you could have a ceremony of some sort when you get together, somehow honor
their mother and your wife, and let people talk about her, not just like at a
funeral." Simad offered.
"Would
you guys come?"
"Yeah,
of course, you betcha." Everyone agreed.
"We'll
have a barbecue in my backyard," said Harvey.
"What
say, I put on some music, and we dance a bit. I heard Liz Gilbert say that
after losing her soul mate, she dances every morning to ease the hurt and honor
her mate."
"Let's
do it." Says Harvey, hoisting himself from his chair and offering his hand
to Twinkie, who takes it, jumps from her chair, and begins whirling around the
yard. "I love you. Harvey." She says, "Come on, let's
boogie."