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Sorry for the hiatus. But today I finally got my blog back (as in "How Stella Got Her Grove Back").

I had to make a trip to Siloam Springs for a Dr.’s. appointment this morning. I was in Siloam all last week with several Dr.’s appointments to try and remedy this sciatica problem that has plagued me now for the better part of four months. I had a follow-up appointment with my MD (officially my "Primary Care Physician" as of about 9:35 this a.m... I got sick of my local Harrison MD just throwing painkillers at the problem for over four months!) this morning.

Well, after the visit and yet another Cortizone shot in the rear, it was still early in the day so I decided to venture over to Fayetteville to do some window-shopping. I didn't have much on my list of things I needed to buy. Just a gift for my sweet little nephew Kevin German who turns 5 tomorrow. Incidentally, he's getting a Toys-R-US pirate’s sword, buccaneer eye patch, skull and crossbones flag and a nifty looking glass all packaged neatly together. And the sword has this neat feature where if you push a button, the blade lights up and you hear the clinking sound like two real swords clashing. I'm sure little pirate Kevin is going to have hours of fun pretending with these items.

After finding Kevin's gift and a much too long walk through "Tuesday Mornings" and walking out empty handed, I was feeling a bit down. So, I got this bright idea to drive up to Rogers to try and meet up with my therapist of days gone by. I drove up 71B and took in all the new construction and growth. I must say that stretch of road is the ugliest business district I think I've been through in a decade. Regardless of the growth and prosperity of that area, they still seem to have no zoning codes. Crap boxes next to multi-million dollar business complexes. I would NEVER want to live, trade or own a business on or near that stretch of highway.

Once in Rogers I had a little bit of a difficult time finding the old offices of my therapist, Ross. I remembered it to be in the historic area, but I just wasn't quite sure what street it was on. It has been over 7 years since the last time I was over there. After driving back and forth for about 15 minutes I found it. The sight was ominous. The grass was overgrown and there was a Remax sign in the front yard. The place looked haunted. I couldn't believe it. My suspicions were true. They had closed up shop. Or at least moved to another location. The sign listing all the counselors was still standing in the yard, dusty and worn, with their phone numbers listed under their names. Ross' was the first one. At the top. A little poignant I thought as I always remember Ross as the best. At the top of the heap.

I took a stroll around the house, peaked in the windows and I could tell the place had been deserted for quiet some time. Inside I could see furniture was still there and the desk still in Ross' office just where it had been the last time that I had sat with him. As I approached the porch, high in the tree next to the house, a crow cawed several times as if to say, "Go away, nothing to see here. They're gone my friend. Their job is done." It was eerie.

I walked back to the van and picked up my cell phone. One by one I called each number under each name on the sign to see if I could get an answer from at least one to find out what happened. Each one answered with a message, "I'm sorry, the number you're trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service at this time." Well, all but one. Ross'. But all that I got from his number was a mechanical automated answering machine stating "Please leave you name and number and someone will return your call as soon as possible." I did leave my name and number and hopefully I will get a return call. But if my gut instinct is correct, I don't think my phone is going to ring. I think the only "caw" I'm going to get if from the crow that has made his home in that old tree.

Across the street I saw an older woman leaving work, walking to her car. I thought she may know the story so I approached her and asked her if she knew how long the offices had been closed. "Oh goodness," she said, "I've worked here for over 2 years and there has been a for sale sign in the yard the entire time. I would guess a few years." And I must say the placed looked it. It was time to go.

Well, although he will probably never read this, Thank you Ross for all the time you spent listening to me during those hard years. Thank you for your sympathy, thank you for you understanding and insight and kind words. Thank you for never telling me what to do, but letting me figure it out. Thank you for cutting me off, even though I wanted to continue and I would get angry because you said "That's it this week!" You are a wise man Ross. Thank you for introducing me to Melanie during our first meeting. I would hate to think where I would be today if I had never met you guys! Thank you.

As a good friend of mine says, "Pain has been my teacher." Certainly many lessons I have learned. But I truly think that this poem on pain is one of the best, and one lesson I am still perfecting. But at least I know it. Thanks for this poem Ross:

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
by Portia Nelson

I. I walk down the street.
There's a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost.....I am helpless;
it isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

II. I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place;
but it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

III. I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in....it's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

IV. I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

V. I walk down a different street.

I will have to walk down a different street to meet with Ross again, but hopefully someday we will meet up and I can sit and visit with him. He wasn't just my therapist, he was indeed a caring friend. I will never forget him.



PS And this is just too weird… I just looked down to see what time it was when I finished this article. It's 2:11 a.m. Take a look at the picture and notice the street number on the house. 211. It's no coincidence my friends. And, oh yes, Gene has definitely got his Blog Back!!!