What happened? Five years later!

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    1. After a summer touring out West, I arrived home in Florid with dizziness, and feeling …well…unwell. My husband suggested I go to the doctor. Nope. Not doing that! A friend who is a nurse came over and did a little checkup. I don’t remember what she said was going on but she wanted me to go to the ER. Nope! Definitely not doing that. Maybe another day went by and another nurse friend agreed about the ER. Again, I said “NO”. Being who she is, she said “well, of course this is your decision – it’s YOUR body. So, let me tell you what your choices are: You can go to the ER and have a professional see what’s going on. Or you can go to bed tonight and possibly not wake up tomorrow morning. Your choice, of course.”

So, being a person you likes to feel in control of myself, I made a choice.

This is me after being admitted to the hospital. Can’t remember getting to the ER or what happened next. I do know my doctor told me I had a ‘mitro valve prolapse’ that needed to be repaired. I was reassured that it would be a routine procedure and I would be back on my feet within a week.

Five months later, I remember almost nothing but I learned later that I had been on a ventilator, in 4 hospitals, I was finally released to go to rehab. In a wheelchair, trying to learn to use a walker. and take care of myself well enough to go home. I remember rehab. I remember visits from family and friends. My husband was a constant companion – and I heard all about the work he had done all those month, trying to keep me alive.

Oh, I had memories – but the most vivid were not actual memories of things that had happened, but memories of hallucinations I had experienced while on various drugs.  I still have those memories – I can feel them as though they were actual experiences – my husband finally convinced me that they had NOT ACTUALLY happened because I had not left the hospital in all that time.  “But what about the night we went downtown and there was a festival – you remember!  one of the nurses from the hospital had an ice cream truck!  And, we met a couple of friends from home! There was a large school building I wanted to visit but it was closed so we couldn’t go in.  Remember?”  Didn’t happen.

In rehab, I was lucid and remember my friends came to visit – sometimes bringing their dogs!  And I have strong recollections of therapy – those people were amazing.  I asked them to teach me how to get into the car so I could go for the ride to bring my son to the airport.  That was exceptional because it was getting dark and the stars came out – I was astonished because I had not seen the stars in months!

More to follow

A wonderful doctor Dr. Jeffrey Brumfeld

 

 

I don’t know how many times I’ve told this story.  A lot. For some reason, I thought I had written it on Starboogie and tonight I thought I should re-publish that story because, well it’s that time of year and the lesson learned feels appropriate for this particular Christmas.  But – wonder of wonders – I never did write this for Starboogie!  So here I am, rectifying that omission.

Christas Eve. A while ago.

My friend Alan and I were having a nice dinner outdoors, at Jack’s on Marion, across the street from the city’s lovely Christmas tree. We were keeping each other company while our significant others were with families in Canada and Texas. We never ran out of conversation, dinner was good, a couple of glasses of wine, the air was warm, people were in good moods….and we were ready to call it a night, waiting for our check. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed a gentleman sitting alone at the edge of the tables, near the road. He was a little plump, had white hair and a full beard, was quietly finishing his meal.

I turned back to Alan and observing the obvious, said “Look Alan. It’s Santa!” He rolled his eyes. I turned back and Alan muttered “No. Do NOT talk to him”. I turned around again and called over to him. “Hey! Did you get my letter?” Being good natured, he looked up at me, paused and replied “Well, you know it is a very busy night – but I think I’ve seen them all.” He got up from the table and started to walk toward us. Alan groaned. “Oh no.”

Santa walked over to me and smiled. “Well, just in case I missed it, why don’t you tell me what it is you wanted for Christmas”. I hadn’t really thought about it. But he seemed eager to please. “Well. What I really want is peace around the world.” Santa took a moment, looked into my eyes and said “Hmmm. Why don’t you tell me what YOU plan to do to bring peace around the world.” I realized he had just given me the most important gift I had ever received. I smiled, thanked him and wished him a Merry Christmas.

La Boheme

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A scene from my new book AN OLD STORY

La Boheme
30 Years have gone by.

He was just standing there by the railing, leaning comfortably on one elbow. One loafered foot casually crossed over the other. The Playbill in his sturdy hands the object of his focus, his downcast eyes peering over readers. Even before he realized I was walking toward him, I could feel the effect of his looking up. The tenderness. All I could think in that moment was that I could just gobble him up. So he would be with me forever. So he would become part of me and I would never have to say goodbye.

He was happy to be here, standing in the lobby of the Metropolitan Opera during intermission of La Boheme. No. More than happy – enchanted. I had no doubt. There was no other place he wanted to be. No one else he would rather be with. I knew.

Was he handsome? I don’t know. Not in the movie star sense. Not particularly tall. And, at this point, mostly grey receding hair. A solid body. Not fashionable in his dress, but somehow perfect. He was perfect. In my eyes. And, over the thirty years since I met him, there was nothing – nothing – he could do or say, or that I could do or say, that would change that. Now, years later, even though he chose someone else to share his life, he remained perfect.

The Girl in the River

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The Girl in the River
by Sherry Campbell

What do you see, as I wave to you from
The river?
Have you watched me navigate
The currents?
Marveled at my graceful step,
Laughed at my clownish antics?
What do you see?

Long ago, I sat on the shore
Frightened. Stuck.
Immobilized by experience,
By pain.
I had no choice, they said.
The river is too deep. It will take you down.

I thought:
What if I placed a stone
In the shallowest spot?
I could stand on it.
I would be safe, even as
The river surged around me.
And do I did.

Then I found another stone and another.
And another.
Slowly, I created a path of stones just above
The river’s surface.
It began to take me away from the shore,
Away from the pain.
Away from those who said I could never leave.

In time, I began to live on that path –
Knew where all
aCautious not to slip.
Wary when the river was stormy.
Learned to dance, to sing.
Learned to live.
Others noticed and said
‘oh look at that strong, happy girl,
How she dances through life on her path!’

That is what they see.
The girl navigating her way
Along the stones she has placed
In the river.

The Poet in Praise of Tomatoes

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In Praise of Tomatoes

God,
It’s Ray.
Thank you for the storm
That passed north of us and for the thought
Of lime. Never have our
Tomatoes been so sweet.
We taste you in them.
I feel you are my son gone now for such,
Such a long
Time. Come home.
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There’s a plate for you,
And a bed upstairs in a quiet room.
The tiny dart-like flowers are just
Beginning to open. The bees are gone. The wind
Is of no use. I need
a hand with the fine paint
brush in and out so the fruit will swell please
come back my son, come home.

Ray Amorosi

The Thin Fir Seeds

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THE SLIM FIR-SEEDS
The nimble oven bird, the dignity of pears,
The simplicity of oars, the imperishable
Engines inside slim fir-seeds, all of these
Hint how much we long for the impermanent
To be permanent. We want the hermit wren
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We want eternal oceans. But we are perishable;
Friends, we are salty, impermanent kingdoms.

~ Robert Bly

A gift for today….

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Poem by Mary Oliver

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

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An Old Story – Chapter 1 “Mom”

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An Old Story – working title

by Sherry Campbell

Chapter 1 ~ Mom

Autumn

 October was always Michael’s favorite month.   For one thing, it was his birthday month.  And then, there was Halloween – his favorite holiday.  He had lived most of his life in the northeast and the crisp fall air, the almost blinding beauty of golden Oaks and crimson Maples gave him a sense of re-birth in a way that Spring never had.  Now, sitting at his desk, looking out at the slightly muted version of the October that North Carolina offered, thoughts of childhood flickered as though he had a slide projector in his mind.

Mom.

His reverie was broken by his 18 year old daughter Laura. “Dad, is there going to be a funeral?”  She gently came to his side and put her hands on his shoulders.  Michael knew she hadn’t been prepared to lose the last of her grandparents and that she was feeling the loss deeply.  He had given this some though – maybe she needed some kind of formal farewell to come to terms with the empty space in her young life.  But dismissed the idea because of his mother’s wishes.

“No, honey.  Your Gram made it abundantly clear she wanted none of that.  No ceremonies.  No funeral.  Certainly no burial!  She couldn’t stand the thought of taking up space somewhere.” Michael chuckled.  So frugal.  So practical.  She didn’t even want an urn.  ‘Just sprinkle me over the garden!  I’d like to fertilize the sunflowers!’  He smiled and shook his head.

Laura brightened as though she read his unspoken memories.  “I’m going to plant sunflowers for her – they were always her favorite.”  Michael was used to Laura’s remarkable sensitivity and often uncanny perception. “She would have loved that, hon.”

“ She WILL love it, Dad.  She will be here every year to see them bloom.  I just know it.”  Laura left as quietly as she had appeared and Michael fell back into the melancholy that had been his constant companion for the past couple of days.

Mom.  I always depended on you to live forever.

********************

Spring

As it turned out, Laura’s need – for ceremony, for a proper farewell – could not be denied.  It took her no time at all to contact many of her Gram’s friends – scattered all around the country.  She set up a Facebook page with photographs of family trips, images from decades past, going as far back as high school.  Michael knew his mother had led an extremely full and satisfying life and never ceased to take on new challenges, always making new friendships with extraordinary people.  Still, the response took his breath away – the sheer volume of messages, well wishes, funny stories, words of love.  Some people he remembered.  Many he did not.

Come March, Laura planted her sunflower seeds in the garden next to the beds of daffodils that were in bloom.  His mother had planted those bulbs the first year she bought their family country cottage, the place they now called home.  How often he had seen her sitting in the big Adirondack chair, in the sun, gazing at those daffodils.  He had thought that, actually, they were her favorite flower, but he wasn’t about to discourage Laura with her sunflowers!

They had saved the simple box with her ashes all winter so they could satisfy his mother’s wishes…to sprinkle the ashes among the soil with the sunflower seeds.  When the early Spring showers subsided, the three of them – Michael, his wife Jenna, and Laura – went out into the garden to say their farewells.  His son Ely had moved to a new job in California. There was no need to make the trip, Michael thought.  She’s not here.

Impotence is said to be a sexual issue where in the man has a lot of problems while he makes erections so basically the issue is related to the erections of a person and when a person fails to make erections. cheap viagra cialis Sildenafil Citrate is pharmacy on line viagra check out this the main ingredient present in this medicine which is FDA approved and so, can be consumed safely after seeking proper advice from medical experts. You have to realize that purchasing cialis in canada pharmacy is not a challenging undertaking in this day and period of internet shopping and e-business deals. Usual setback of flaccid organ tadalafil cialis This is a very usual setback and as the man ages the problem can get compounded. Each of them had chosen a poem to read  – something they associated with his mother, words that she loved.  He read Frost’s ROAD LESS TRAVELED.

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference”

Then the showers began again and they all came inside.  They spent the afternoon listening to Puccini, sipping herb tea and eating ginger cookies.

Mom’s Legacy

Very typical of his mother, all financial and practical matters had been beautifully organized, documented and legally neatly tied with a nice ‘bow’.  She had told Michael specifically what she was leaving behind and even though it was not a huge estate, it was enough to make a difference in his family’s life.  Trust funds for the kids, retirement funds for him and his wife. The cottage in the mountains.  Then there were lists of personal items that she wanted given to specific people, along with photographs so there would be no mistake as to who was to get what.  This was her – practical, thorough.

In the past couple of years, whenever she had brought up this subject, he didn’t want to talk about it.  Now, he had to admit he was grateful that she had done all that planning and decision-making and he didn’t have to guess.  Her vast collection of recorded music was donated to the town’s library so it could be shared. Her equally voluminous collection of sheet music went to the high school music department. And so many books! Designated by topic and given to people who would appreciate them. Works of art were given to members of the family and close friends, or donated to museums. There had been many items she that wanted him to keep: stacks of Playbills dating back decades and some very personal things – a snow globe that played music from Puccini’s La Boheme, a crystal apple paperweight, a tiny 14k gold charm of a crab – random things she had cherished for years.

In keeping his promise to deliver all of her chosen gifts to the right people, he had the pleasure of experiencing their joy of receiving. He listened to their stories of working together, involvement with theatre and music, writing groups, parties, trips, how they had loved her, had been grateful to have her as a friend. None of this surprised him, of course. He had always thought of her as having lived a rather ‘charmed’ life.  Like everyone, she had her challenges, but she seemed to somehow rise above them. Her indomitable spirit and positive attitude left no room for negativity or depression. He had learned resilience from her, and he supposed that had been her greatest gift to him.

It was deep summer by the time everything was completed.  Accounts were in their rightful places, his mother’s treasures now in new homes. Michael stored all the paperwork in his office – a whole file drawer with the label “Hannah’s Last Wishes – Granted”.  She would have been proud.

He looked out the window into the garden, at the abundance of sunflowers opening their petals to the afternoon light. So many of them.  I’d like to fertilize the sunflowers.

 Good job, Mom.

 

Al Holland

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Symphony Perspectives

Written for Charlotte Symphony Magazine TEMPO

AL HOLLAND

“Symphony is in my heart.”

That may not be something you would expect to hear from popular musician Al Holland.  Most of us probably think of “Big Al” as the keyboard player/baritone who performed with the legendary Platters or currently as the hottest pop music act in South Florida. But, as the son of a music teacher, little Al Holland learned to play a variety of instruments. By the 8th grade, he concentrated on the cello and it didn’t take long for him to find his way into an orchestra.

As a teen, he played with the Detroit Metropolitan Youth Orchestra, later with the Detroit Symphony and Chicago Symphony Civic Orchestra.  When family business brought him to Oklahoma in the 1980s, Al changed it up by playing popular music in night clubs. Once back in Detroit, he joined the band “Attraction” and hit the show band circuit, playing keyboard with Wilson Williams and Verceal Whitaker.

In 1993, “Attraction” was invited to Las Vegas to perform with The Platters who happened to be looking for new members. Both Williams and Holland joined the famous group.  Several years later, Al turned his attention to more intimate settings and has become one of the most popular solo acts in Florida.

Compared with adults, found that young people are more vulnerable to grave sexual problems like erectile dysfunction, which is a very expensive policy in most cases. viagra for sale online If an individual is facing frequent bouts of ED, then cialis samples free you must take a perfect concern to the doctor. Some chemotherapy side effects related to the kidneys, and when it develops no prescription viagra into certain stage, Kidney Failure will occur. viagra discount online Fixing erectile dysfunction is very possible. Al says that opportunities have always found him, and apparently when the right doors open, he walks in.  His move to Punta Gorda brought the Charlotte Symphony to his attention. He soon became involved with the Pops Concerts held at the Edison (now FSU) Campus, and then performed in two Fourth of July Concerts with Frances Wada.  It was during Maestro Wada’s retirement party in 2013 that he met Raffaele Ponti.  Al smiles and remembers, “I started thinking about doing another ‘gig’ with the Symphony and kind of dropped a hint”.

Hint being taken, on February 14, 2016, the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra Valentine’s Pops Concert promises to be a very special event. After the orchestra entertains with a musical combination of Classical, Broadway and the American Songbook, Al Holland will take the stage and sweep everyone down memory lane with the popular tunes that will have the audience dancing and singing along!

Al can be seen performing in clubs and restaurants around Ft. Myers and Punta Gorda, as well as special concerts. He comments, “I always wanted to have ‘a job’ with endurance.  People like the songs I sing, and I like them too! I’ve been lucky. I’ve been around the world doing what I love. How many people can say that?”

 

Coming February 2,7 2016 Al will present his annual Night of Autism Awareness at the Charlottle Cultural Center.  All the great music we love to hear will be offered up by Al Holland and Friends for the benefit of the Charlotte County Public Schools’ programs for children with Autism.

 Find Al Holland on Facebook.

 

The Liberace Experience

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It was 1970.  I was working as a cocktail waitress in the revolving restaurant at the new Holiday Inn in Springfield, MA.  It wasn’t unusual to see celebrities in the restaurant – particularly in the summer when the Storrowton Music Circus was open and touring shows studded the season.  I was not typically star-struck, but then there was Liberace.  I saw him and his entourage being seated in the dining room and I didn’t skip a beat, went directly to his table.  “Mr. Liberace!  Excuse me, but I have been a fan of yours since I was a little girl.”  He was so gracious, stood up and introduced me to the others at his table, who were equally gracious.

He asked me how I knew his music and I told him how, when I was little, my parents would wake me up at 11:00 on Saturday nights so I could see his TV show.  I supposed a gushed a little.  Ok, a LOT.  How much I loved his signature theme song, “I’ll be seeing you”.  And that I had one of his original LPs (still do).  We talked some more about music and the show in Storrowton, my mother and her piano skills.

He asked me to bring in the LP so he could sign it.  It was a life-changing moment for me.

Normal tadalafil online pharmacy costs for drugs at Canadian pharmacies vary, but for the most part all offer much lower prices than American companies. Taking it without prescription can cause side-effects. click here for more info viagra without prescription They are known to be equally effective as acquisition de viagra each other. This service is prescription viagra prices provided to you 24 hours. Time passed, I moved to NYC from West Springfield, got a job in Manhattan and started living the life I had dreamed of.  One late spring day, I was walking up Madison Avenue on my lunch hour and who did I see hailing a cab – Liberace!  I remember he had on a snappy blue shirt and pants outfit and he looked fine!  I stopped in my tracks for a second and then hurried over to him. “Mr. Liberace! ” He turned to me, and smiled. “Mr. Liberace!  It’s me, Sherry Campbell! You probably don’t remember but I met you in Springfield a few years ago at the Holiday Inn where I worked in the restaurant.” He smiled a bit more, extended his hand and said “Of course I remember you, Sherry  – your parents woke you up to watch my show…and you have that old LP!!!”.  We chatted, I thanked him for saying hello, for remembering.  I released him to his cab hailing and went on my way.  Of course, I never saw him again.

I’ve met quite a few celebrities throughout my life – for various reasons, in various circumstances, but no one was as generous and gracious as Mr. Lee Liberace.  “when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you.”