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Success
Stories:
Nicholas
Caputo
My
beautiful wife, Phyllis Ann, loved the Christmas holidays. Our home
looked like a toy store, every nook and cranny crammed with her hidden
bounty, to be distributed on that special day. Her desire for giving
was unusual, as it was not just her family she gave to, but also to
strangers she saw in need. On Christmas Eve, everyone but Phyllis Ann
went to bed early. She would wrap presents all night until the wee
hours of the morning, then insist upon doing all the chores of cooking
and cleaning herself on Christmas Day. I asked why she insisted upon
wrapping presents during the early morning hours. She smiled and said,
"It's quiet, without interruptions. Then, at three o'clock I put the
radio on low and listen to the story of Scrooge. I feel I'm living in
that era and can feel the people's plight of existing in poverty." A
beautiful woman with a loving heart, as big as Heaven itself.
The Buds of Blossoming Trees
I
realize that I am not alone in grieving the loss of a loved one. But I
am alone living the loss I feel within me. I wrote The Buds of
Blossoming Trees to relive the only happy life I had, as though still
being with her, until that terrible and fateful day. I didn't have
family around to vent my frustrations, feelings or concerns for the
many questions I had to relieve this demoralizing trauma I was
experiencing.
It's
been awhile, it's going on ten years since my Phyllis Ann left me. I am
told by those around me I should be getting on with my life. I know, I
feel they are right, I should be active and participate in social
events to start on the road back to normalcy. I have tried, but to no
avail. The thought of why keeps gnawing at me. I should be eating
dinner and dancing with Phyllis Ann, but I can't. Of course, the rest
of the evening has gone, and once again, I'm alone with my thoughts.
Before she left she said, "Get on with your life. I know you. I don't
want you to be alone too long." But, she never told me how I should do
that.
Ours
was a love story that lasted many years. Initially, as I wrote each
page, my heart was filled with happiness. I was reliving my life with
my Phyllis Ann. Then, as the events reversed, each word that led to
page after page was like a knife piercing my heart. The constant pain
still lingers today. It is a story that human nature relates to, that
life is not all peaches and cream. There is still that part that turns
sour, a part that enters every life.
The Buds of
Blossoming Trees is available through PublishAmerica, and can be
ordered on-line at www.publishamerica.com,
or by sending $16.95 plus $3.00 shipping and handling to:
PublishAmerica, P.O. Box 151, Frederick, MD 21705.
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