Final Grains of Sand

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Final Grains of Sand Page 16

by David Harder


  “Many of you may remember our former mayor, Ron Golden. He was a rather tall gentleman with a prominent bald head. To Ron’s consternation, the TV camera crews often applied large amounts of makeup to the top of Ron’s head to reduce the glare.” Tom produced a grin. “How many of you noticed the large, round bump atop Ron’s head?”

  “It always looked like he had a golf ball buried beneath the skin.”

  “That’s nearly the truth, Joe. One afternoon, James and I were playing a round at the country club. James was just a young teenager then and learning to play the game. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in strength. Accuracy was not his strong suit, but he could smack a ball down a long fairway. We were teeing off at the fourth hole, which is a par six because the fairway makes an ‘L’-shape turn in the middle.”

  “I’m familiar with that particular hole, Doctor. It has ruined many games and cost me far too many strokes,” Tony groaned.

  Tom nodded in agreement to Tony’s declaration.

  “James wanted to avoid the turn by sending his ball over the trees, separating our tee-off spot and the cup on the far side of the forest. I advised against James’ plan because the trees are tall, but, nonetheless, he retrieved his largest club and squared off over the ball.

  “I figured this would teach James a lesson about avoiding shortcuts when he would need to search for his ball. In retrospect, I wish I’d listened to that little voice inside my head and asked James to play the hole normally, but I did not.

  “To our amazement, the ball lifted off like a rocket and sailed over the trees. Frequently, James would send his ball in a large, right-hand arc, called a slice. On this day, his slicing skills paid off. We stood in silence as we watched the ball vault into the sky, disappearing over the trees. Seconds later, we heard a man scream out in pain.

  “Without thinking, James threw his clubs onto the golf cart and jumped into the driver’s seat. Moments later, I followed his lead and sat in the cart. Instead of following the fairway, James drove straight toward the trees, plunging where no golf cart should ever venture. We bounced through trees and shrubs, over rocks, and emerged from the forest like an aircraft taking flight. Just on the other side of the trees, we were unaware that the landscape dropped off, by nearly six feet.

  “As we flew off the hillside, plunging for the ground, I could see several men standing in a circle over Mayor Ron, who was sprawled out on the green. His hat and club were several feet away. By a miracle, the golf cart managed to careen down the embankment and skid to a stop just inches shy of Mayor Ron. The other players standing there were gripped in shock. I instantly jumped out to check on Mayor Ron’s condition.

  “James’ immediate concern was for Mayor Ron, and he wanted to know if the mayor was still alive. Thankfully, the mayor was all right but received a rather nasty concussion. I sent a few of the other bystanders to fetch an ambulance. In the meantime, Mayor Ron remained unconscious. En route to the hospital, the mayor finally regained consciousness but complained of a massive headache.”

  “If I remember, Mayor Ron had a penchant for being impatient and volatile. What happened to Jim when the mayor found out what happened?” Nate asked incredulously.

  “Actually, Nate, the mayor was quite pleasant about the situation. Unfortunately, his chief concern was missing the hole at number four. It turns out that the Mayor was just one stroke under for a birdie. Somehow, Mayor Ron was nicer than expected. Meanwhile, James was so distraught over the incident, that from the onset, he visited the mayor in the hospital and confessed his errors.

  “Mayor Ron forgave James and requested he perform community service as punishment for his misdeed. After the unfortunate incident, Mayor Ron demanded James play golf alongside the mayor because Ron felt safer knowing where James was hitting his ball.”

  “Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer,” Joe exclaimed.

  Tom chuckled. “Exactly, Joe. Over time, James improved and played a decent game, beating my scores on many occasions.

  “In 1980, James’ mother, Jane, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She struggled through five unpleasant years. She was a God-fearing woman who deserved to see her sons grow old, but unfortunately, this choice does not belong to us. Her ability to stay positive, despite her circumstances, personally inspired me. Still, to this day, I strive to maintain a positive attitude and mirror Jane’s fortitude.

  “James was a middle child who classically played the peacemaker and jokester role all too well. His brother Jake taught James how to fish. I taught James how to play golf. Unfortunately, their younger brother, John, was several years their junior and saw his older brothers go off to college.

  “When Jane died, Jake brought John to stay with his new family and provided John with a stable home environment. The family income was modest, but Jake managed to see John attend college. Thankfully, none of the other Kreider boys ever served in the military.

  “When the boys were still young and Jake was ill with the mumps, I had Jane corral the boys together, so they could get sick as a group. Whenever one of the boys would get sick, Jane would be in my office with at least two of her sons.”

  “Did Jim ever get into mischief, Doc?”

  Tom smiled and looked down. “Joe, they were typical boys. I remember one summer when the boys disassembled their roller skates to make these scooters. It was quite clever, really. In those days, children had clamp-on, metal roller skates for their shoes. The boys took them apart and nailed the skates to the bottom of a flat board, like a two-by-four. The boards were about two feet long, and they would ride them all over town, scaring folks to death on the sidewalks.

  “They’re called skateboards now, and I’m sure some genius has made millions selling these devices to unsuspecting parents. For doctors, such as me, these contraptions represent many scraped knees, stitches, and broken limbs. The Kreider boys were no exception and had their fair share of injuries. Eventually, the town police became involved because the lads were getting rather brazen with their skateboards.

  “Our local university has an administration building located on a considerable rise overlooking the school campus. As many of you know, the school is divided by the boulevard, which runs into town. There is a long, circular drive from the street up to the administration building and back.

  “Opposite the circular drive, two roads lead to the far side of the campus, where there is another circular road linking the two lanes. Before the boulevard was widened to handle vehicular traffic, this pair of campus roads all connected together, forming a large oval, which was used for track meets many years ago. Over time, the dirt track became paved roads, and the university expanded.

  “The Kreider boys—James, in particular—decided to use their skateboards on the administration hill and race across the boulevard. Their goal was to see how far they could get to the opposite end without their feet touching the ground. As you can imagine, they didn’t thoroughly develop their plan.

  “To their credit, they did display enough common sense to watch for cars traveling down the boulevard. Unfortunately, they failed to consider cars entering the boulevard from the campus and well out of their line of vision.

  “When the boys took off, it looked clear from their vantage point, so they sailed down the hill at full speed. How none of them were killed during their foolishness is beyond me, but they managed to navigate the hill with skill. At that very moment, a college lad, showing off his new red convertible, drove out from a side street and rocketed down the boulevard. The driver was distracted by trying to impress the girls and not looking forward.

  “As the Kreider boys entered the boulevard, they faced an oncoming convertible aiming for their position at high speed. Thankfully, the driver turned his head at the last second to see three boys on skateboards crossing his path. The lad over-corrected to avoid striking the boys, and the car slammed into one of the massive oak trees lining the boulevard.

  “It’s a miracle, but the lad was unharmed, and
his new red convertible was a total loss. Being highly competitive, James won the contest, but then the police arrested all three boys for nuisance. Since they were minors, they couldn’t keep them in jail, but the police chief was hoping to scare the boys, which I believe worked. Their tomfoolery resulted in a pair of traffic lights being installed on the boulevard and a ban on skateboards for the entire university campus.”

  Tom sipped his wine and looked over his notes once again. “I won’t bore you with too much more, but I do have one more story I wish to share. James was always a compassionate child, caring about other people in need. In addition to donating blood at our local Red Cross, James would volunteer his time at Thanksgiving and Christmas to help in the shelter soup kitchen. One year, James read in the paper about someone needing a kidney in our hospital.

  “After discussing the situation at length, I suggested to James that he contact the hospital directly. The screening process was lengthy, and, despite his earnest desire to donate a kidney, he was eventually ruled a mismatched donor. In retrospect, knowing what I know now, it was a godsend he didn’t donate a kidney because of his cancer diagnosis.”

  Nate raised his hand just off the table.

  “Yes, Nate,” said Tony.

  “The doctor reminded me of an incident I’d like to share later.”

  “Thank you. I’ve made a note, and we’ll come back to you when Dr. Nolan is finished.”

  “I’m almost done, Tony. I just have some personal observations. James was a good person with a great heart. As a doctor, it is always difficult to lose a patient. In my career, I’ve had my fair share of deaths, but James was more troubling than others. The ecstatic joy of watching a baby take its first breath cannot be described. But watching that same child grow up, seeing him become an adult, and then watching him take his last breath—”

  Tom bowed his shaking head, pausing to gain composure. The others waited in silence, observing a man in pain. Finally, Dr. Nolan raised his head, took out his handkerchief, and blotted his eyes.

  “It is sadness beyond words. It reminds me just how fragile our lives are. I thank God for the time I did know James and for our journey together.”

  Tony stood and rubbed his palms together. “This seems like a good time for a break.” He looked at his watch. “Let’s meet back in, say, fifteen minutes. Is everyone in agreement?”

  His question was met with blank stares. Everyone was still processing Dr. Nolan’s words.

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  Slowly, the room emptied, except for Dr. Nolan, who sat reading over his notes. Pastor Mike hesitated to leave and decided to join the doctor. He waited until everyone left the room.

  “Are you okay, Doctor?”

  Tom looked up and gave him a weak smile. “Perhaps. You know, my wife, Susan, just said something yesterday that I keep rolling around inside my head. She said, ‘Why is it that one family has been visited with so much pain?’ I couldn’t answer her question. In my spirit, I’m sure God has a plan, but the mystery of it escapes me.”

  Michael reached out and rested his palm on the doctor’s shoulder. He then quoted a scripture verse from the Bible: “It says in Isaiah 55:8, ‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the LORD.’”

  “Thank you, Pastor. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like some time alone.”

  Pastor Mike slowly stood up and stared at the doctor. “Absolutely.” Mike felt dismissed, but he then turned and walked out of the room.

  Dr. Nolan waited until Mike was gone. He then bowed his head, folded his hands on the table, and began to silently pray, pouring his heart out to God.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “ARE YOU READY, OR WOULD you like more time, Dr. Nolan?”

  Very quietly, Betty had opened the conference room door and saw Tom with his head bowed and his lips moving. He wasn’t saying anything, so she assumed he was praying.

  Tom looked up and gave Betty his grimace-smile. “Is it time already?”

  Betty smiled. “If you need more time, Mr. Toncetti says the group can wait a little longer.”

  Tom frowned as if to process his thoughts. “No, of course. Tell Tony we may start whenever he is ready.”

  Betty nodded and left the doctor alone. Two minutes later, the team reassembled in the conference room. The group was subdued, and as each person walked in, they went out of their way to touch the doctor—a touch on the shoulder, a light pat—everyone except Mr. Martin. After everyone had sat down, Nate reached across the large conference table with both hands toward Tom and held his palms up. Dr. Nolan placed his hands on top of Nate’s.

  “Tom, I need to tell you what an incredible doctor you are. Jim was fortunate to have a physician of your caliber. Your religious beliefs, your care—they speak volumes about your character, and you must know, I’m not easily impressed.”

  “Thank you, Nate.”

  “I meant what I said. I’m not the kind of man who displays emotions publicly, but I can see the love you had for Jim, and it has touched my cold heart.”

  Tom let a small smirk creep into the corner of his mouth. “Careful, Nate. You might find yourself joining me for church on Sunday.”

  Jerking his retreating hands from the table, Nate said, “Okay, Doc, let’s not rush into things here or jump to conclusions.”

  Nate was mildly defensive, but, at the same time, it was obvious he was thinking along the lines of the doctor but couldn’t admit it in front of the team. Both men lightly chuckled and exchanged a nonverbal communication stare, trying to read each other’s thoughts—the way men do when playing a game of poker.

  “Well, thanks for sharing your stories about Jim. The more I hear in this room, the more appreciative I’ve become of the man,” Tony acknowledged each person around the table.

  Tony needed to have the team move forward, so he cleared his throat. “So, Dr. Nolan, are we ready to move to the next speaker, or did you have anything further to add?”

  “I was nearing completion, Tony, but one more thought came to me during the break. If I may, would you folks be kind enough to indulge this old man as he wanders down memory lane just one more time?”

  Tom and Tony both searched the conference room, checking to see if anyone objected. The room was in agreement.

  “Thank you. I assure you, this won’t take long. When James’ oldest brother, Joseph, died, it took a toll on James. He was frustrated and angry, especially with God. First, his father and now his older brother were deceased. James was only ten years old at the time, and he couldn’t understand why a loving God would be so mean—at least that’s how he explained it. Those were his words.

  “For nearly two years, a rebellious spirit arose inside James, and it affected his grades in school. His mother, Jane, complained to me on several occasions. The poor woman was dealing with her own losses and couldn’t seem to handle James on top of everything else in her life. It was nearing the end of a school year, so Susan and I invited James to spend the summer months living with us.

  “Our daughter, Charlotte, was almost eleven years old and wasn’t too keen on sharing our home with an outsider, especially with a boy. Our situation became complicated when James decided to develop a crush on Charlotte; and, as he put it, he ‘fell madly in love’ with our daughter. Charlotte was kind at first toward James, knowing the circumstances that brought him into our home; but, eventually, the boy-crush was a little over the top for her.

  “So now, Susan and I are not just dealing with a rebellious young man grieving the loss of a parent and brother, we now have the unfortunate pleasure of coaching our daughter on how to let James down gently but also helping James get through his first heartbreak. If my wife, Susan, had not stepped in with great wisdom, I was certain we were headed for a severe breakdown.

  “Susan and Charlotte worked out a terrific plan and executed it with wonderful finesse. Quite often during this period, James would come to me in private and explain his dilemma and wha
t he and Charlotte discussed. I, of course, would listen and commiserate with James by asking the questions Susan had prompted me with earlier. I must admit, initially when James developed the crush on Charlotte, his anger and attitude shifted, and I saw this as something positive. But, as the summer progressed, I could quickly see disaster looming and feared the situation would soon worsen. Fortunately, I was mistaken. The magic these two women worked on James was having the desired effect.

  “Remarkably, by the end of the summer, James and Charlotte had become good friends, and, much to my relief, the crush was soon forgotten. James seemed to emotionally move past his family’s loss and was beginning to act like a typical boy—if there is such a thing.

  “During that same summer, I spent a lot of time sharing my faith with James. Naturally, he was inquisitive and probed with deep questions about God and why I thought his father and brother were taken from the family. His questions caused me to rethink my own relationship with God, and I articulated my feelings as best I knew how at the time.

  “One particular Saturday, James came to the breakfast table with his usual flair of tomfoolery and started teasing Charlotte. His timing was off the mark, and, in short order, Charlotte was in tears and running up to her room. Susan gave James a tongue-lashing that would bring a Marine to his knees and dashed after our daughter.

  “James sat dumbfounded at the breakfast table, completely unaware and baffled by the performance of the two women. I asked James to stay seated while I checked on Charlotte and Susan. When I returned several minutes later, James was staring across the empty table with tears staining his cheeks.

  “Unfortunately, James’ mistake was not the insensitive teasing—the poor boy had just chosen the wrong day and displayed bad timing. Unbeknownst to James and me, earlier in the morning, Charlotte had begun her first day as a woman. She was emotionally upset, sensitive, and I’m sure, more than slightly ashamed.

  “I attempted to explain the situation to James, but as you can imagine, I was in uncharted territory. I could tell by his glazed expression that James wasn’t grasping my horrible explanation. In a desperate attempt to rescue the poor lad, we retreated to my study, where I had volumes of medical books. He slowly grasped the concepts and displayed a remarkable interest. I felt proud of my accomplishment.

 

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