September Goodbyes

  Mention 9/11 to anyone and you’ll get a predictable negative reaction. Even after sixteen years, people still remember where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news of the first airplane crashing into the World Trade Center. It’s a shocking day that will live forever in American history. Although I lived just a few miles from the Pentagon on that fateful day, each September brings different memories to my mind.

  When I think of September 11th, I think of the same day ten years ago when my father-in-law passed away. Rich Walker was a wonderful man. Kind, funny, hard-working, devoted to his wife of fifty years, his four sons, and their families. His second son, Dana, was born on September 10^th. Although he was in a coma at home with Hospice after a failed heart valve replacement surgery and years of struggling with Parkinson disease, we think Dad waited until September 11^th to take his last breath so he wouldn’t leave a somber reminder every year on Dana’s birthday. He was just that kind of a man, so thoughtful. I can’t believe he’s been gone ten years.

  Eleven years ago on September 25^th, my own father left mortality. Richard Meldrom had been bedridden for a few years with a form of dementia called Binswanger’s disease. He had numerous strokes that eroded his ability to do even the basics for himself. When he had another stroke in early September, 2006, which left him unable to swallow, we knew his time was short. My two brothers and I traveled to see him. Miraculously this took place when my brother Ethan was home for a few weeks from his year-long Air Force deployment in South Korea. When I arrived at Dad’s bedside, my mom told me Dad was unresponsive, but as I leaned down to kiss his sunken cheek as he lay curled in a fetal position, I took his hand in mine and felt a tiny squeeze in response, even though he couldn’t speak. It was if he had been waiting to see each of his children one last time. He died the next day.

  And this September marks one more goodbye. Not one of death, but one that leaves an ache in my heart nonetheless. My daughter Meilin turns eighteen today. The daughter I longed for and went all the way to China to adopt. The precocious, beautiful, brilliant child who filled a special place in my heart, even after God blessed me with four wonderful sons. I needed that rosy-cheeked orphan as much as she needed me.

  But now Meilin doesn’t need me anymore because she’s a college student at NC State University, my alma mater. It was so hard to leave her at her residence hall last month and then get in a moving van and drive across the country to our new home in Utah. Just like that, my baby girl is grown up, but she’s not just a short drive down the road from our former home in Holly Springs, NC. Now I can only see her at Christmas break and maybe next summer unless she decides to study abroad. This goodbye probably hurts most of all. Yes, they grow up, but do they have to do it so quickly?

  Happy birthday, Meilin.

 

Musings for May -- and Beyond

  I was horrified to discover I hadn't posted to the blog since December, and thought I should bring my patient readers up to speed on the crazy train that masquerades as my life. So as not to sound like a bad soap opera, I'll give you a synopsis:
  As of last week, my six kids, daughter-in-law, and grandson all lived with me and my husband. The oldest son and his family will be moving out to attend college in the fall, as will the oldest daughter. Same college that both my husband and I attended, NC State -- how awesome is that? Estimated time of departure for those four: mid-August. Youngest son is 'thinking' about starting his papers to serve a two-year mission for our church, but he and his two single older brothers are currently unemployed even though second son has a college degree. Youngest daughter has special needs so she will always be with us. She's just finishing middle school so the timing is right for a change.
  My husband has been with the same software company for thirty years this May. He is 'retiring' and starting work for a consulting company that pays slightly less, but will give him something new to do. It was a tough decision and it took him a looooong time to make it, but we decided that a big change was needed. Sons two, three, and four desperately need a new environment to get them to move forward with their lives. So we prayerfully chose a place that has educational, employment, and marriage opportunities for them.
  We're moving to Logan, Utah. If you're not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this paragraph will be meaningless to you, and you have my permission to skip down the page. Logan, home to Utah State University, has five Young Single Adult stakes. Compared to right here in Raleigh where there is only one YSA ward. What this means is that this friendly small college town in scenic Cache Valley is crammed full of LDS young adults. It's also a few hours from BYU-Idaho, which would be another good place for my reluctant-to-leave-home sons to attend.
  Since we're moving, we have to sell the house. I get a sharp pain right between my eyes when I think about how much work we still have to do to get this house on the market. And spring is quickly coming to a close so it needs to be ASAP. Ten people living under one roof means lots of stuff that I don't care to haul across country, since we'll be moving ourselves. Last big move was on the company dime. They packed us, moved everything, put furniture wherever we told them it goes. It was relatively painless (oh, and the house sold in a weekend because it was the height of the housing boom and right outside Washington, D.C.) but this time we have to do it ourselves, plus take two cats. Five days on the road. Two U-hauls. Multiple drivers but did I mention two cats? Cats don't do leashes or being in a carrier all day. They'll need sedation. I'd like some, too, but I'll be driving.
  We have a big house on six acres. Nice, but also above the price range of the average two-child American family coming to small town Holly Springs, NC. Did I mention it's also an 'unusual' house? Renovated 1970's log-cabin (sort of) with a huge addition. No garage. No fancy master bathroom. Tiny closets. I'll be the first to admit that it's weird, and weird doesn't sell in an area where trendy, new, more affordable houses with 'spa-like' master bathrooms and huge walk-in closets, pop up like mushrooms after a rain.
  So we're decluttering twelve years worth of clutter from ten people. And I'm looking at the slow progress and the swiftly moving calendar and thinking, "is it too late to get a lobotomy?" I just want to work on my next book, but noooooo -- I have to paint and throw stuff away and keep up with the Craigslist ads. (Please buy our 1999 Suburban!)
  So who has time to write a blog post? Not me. But I promise once we're settled in Logan maybe late summer (and assuming we don't buy a fixer upper -- wow, my head really hurts), I'll fill my blog with wonderfully entertaining words, sure to make you happy that you didn't 'unfollow' me.
  Just to prove that I'm not as dull and whiny as this blog post, here are some photos from our recent trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando, Florida. Happy spring -- and summer.
                                                                                                                                  ~Sterling

New interview with Shima

               Martian Chronicles

Mars Station’s Open-Air Markets:

Good or Bad for the Local Economy?

By Georgia Jacobson, Feature Editor

            Whether you love them or hate them, the open-air markets that spring up every day all over the city are here to stay. They continue to elude the efforts of the Central Intelligence Police to shut them down because there is no rhyme or reason to when or where the pushcart vendors converge. It seems that any spare patch of sidewalk will do, so long as the CIPs aren’t paying attention – indeed, many officers admit they have no issue with the freestanding markets.

“Why should we stifle free enterprise?” said one officer, who asked not to be identified. “People have to eat. As long as they don’t block the trams or cause trouble, I just look the other way. They’re set up and gone within a few hours. I see it as a win-win: good for the vendors, good for the locals. People are just trying to survive.”

The city council feels that the open-air markets represent unfair competition for the local merchants, who already struggle to pay rent.

“Rent’s too high,” admitted grocer Emil LeGur at the Dentist Street Local Market, “so I must charge ten credits for each item, especially the fruit. It is more than most people can afford,” he said with a sad shrug, “but what can I do? The people look for better prices in the markets. Of course the prices are better – the thieves have no rent to pay, no employees to pay. It is unfair, but what can I do? It is life.”

Speaking to both Mars residents and visiting spacers who frequent the Port District, I tried to weigh people’s opinions: are the open-air markets good or bad for the economy, and why?

Yesterday at the outskirts of a mostly Middle-Eastern market on Spaceport Drive, I managed to get in a few words with two young women in navy-blue flight suits, their arms loaded down with bags of produce, while they waited for the lift to return to their ship. They introduced themselves as Heshima – called Shima – Oryang and Idalis Sanchez, housekeeper and cook for the passenger ship Ishmael.

“We always try to shop at the street markets, if we can find one,” Oryang explained in her thick Ugandan accent. “The prices are always better than the shops.”

“The quality is often better, too,” Sanchez added. “The produce I prefer to cook with, like chili peppers, tomatillos, avocados, and limes, cost twice as much at the grocery stores.”

“But don’t you think the open markets are hurting the local merchants?” I asked.

Both women shrugged. “We wouldn't be able to stay in business long if we offered only a canned or dehydrated menu to our passengers,” Sanchez explained.

“And what about the homeless?” Oryang said. “They would starve if there were no open markets.”

I asked her to explain.

“I have been homeless before, here, on this station,” she said with a scowl, “as are many people now, today. Even with a full-time job, I could barely afford a few fruits and vegetables to keep myself and my young niece alive. If my only option had been the shops, we would have starved to death. We would have starved, just like my family in Kampala.”

“The open-air markets save lives,” Oryang added fiercely. “I am sorry the local shops cannot compete with the prices, but that is not our concern. Excuse us.”

With that parting remark, they got on the lift. Undeterred, I spoke to one of the vendors in the open-air market the Ishmael crew had just visited. He identified himself only as Abdul and got defensive when I asked him about the wheels of Wisconsin cheddar on his cart. (continued on page 7)

An interview with Captain Shepherd

 

Interstellar Entrepreneur

annual small business issue

            This month we caught up with passenger ship captain Danae Thompson Shepherd at the Mars Station spaceport and were able to interview her about the pitfalls and rewards of interstellar small businesses. Shepherd’s ship, the Ishmael, named for her late father who started the business back in the early days of Mars Station, shuttles passengers between planets.

            Martian native Danae Shepherd appears much younger than thirty-seven with her pale, youthful face scattered with freckles, short, tousled brown curls just beginning to show a few strands of gray, and a piercing, blue-eyed, no-nonsense stare that commands instant respect. The crushing handshake she offered was evidence of real strength beneath her petite, one and a half meter frame. Shepherd is a graduate of Mars Station Port District High School and Mars Flight Academy. She joined the business with her father at the tender age of seventeen, and except for two years at the flight academy, she’s always been at home aboard the Ishmael.  

IE: Tell us how you came to take over your father’s business.

DS: Well, I didn’t have a choice. Dad was murdered when I was twenty-nine, and the Ishmael became my ship whether I was ready or not.

IE: Murdered? We thought he committed suicide.

DS: That’s what’s in the ISP report, but he was definitely murdered.

IE: But –

DS: Someone poisoned him. Next question?

IE: Was it difficult to assume responsibility for an established business?

DS: Once I dealt with the legal headaches and the grief, of course, it was relatively straightforward. My husband Alex was a genius at recruiting passengers and keeping the finances in order. I couldn’t have done it without his support.

IE: We heard that your husband recently succumbed to Zenethian flu. We’re sorry for your loss.

DS: Thank you, but he wasn’t the only crewmember I lost to the disease. I think these last few days of hiring new crew have been the most difficult hurdle in running the business.

IE: Again, we’re sorry for your loss. So tell us about your ship. Why would someone want to hire the Ishmael?

DS: The Class IV McConnell Velocity engines would probably be the biggest draw. We can do Mars Station to any port on Earth in just under 70 hours. But the comfortable passenger cabins and four lounges – two on each wing – plus our state-of-the-art infirmary and gourmet galley are what bring people back for repeat journeys. It’s a comfortable ship with a little more elbow room than the big transports. I’ve always thought of the Ishmael as a four-star hotel in space.

IE: We’ve heard the Class V McConnell engines are faster.

DS: If you don’t mind paying a couple hundred thousand extra credits to shave a few hours off your trip, please feel free to hire one of the newer ships.

IE: With so many passenger transports available, how can a new traveler feel assured that a captain is competent?

DS: A good captain can do every job on the ship, from helm to navigation to basic engine repair. About the only thing I don’t do is cook, but that’s why I hire a chef. Another way you can tell the captain is competent is by observing the crew. If they respect him or her and there’s a real sense of teamwork among them, you’ll know you’ve chartered the right ship.

IE: Any other information you’d care to share with our readers, Captain Shepherd?

DS: Yes, the Ishmael has an A+ safety record with Mars Station spaceport registry. We dock here at least once a month, and we’re always willing to travel to any station in the Milky Way. Just look for our ads in the Martian Chronicles. The ship can accommodate up to one hundred passengers, and we’re well-equipped to offer comfortable passage for all ages, from infants to the elderly. We have several family suites available, and I think you’ll find our fares to be the most reasonable of all the small passenger ships.

IE: Thank you for taking time to talk to us today, Captain.

DS: Thank you, and happy star trails.