Invisible Rainbows

By L. Smith Linthicum

This is a book that my pastor, church congregation, family, friends, even grandchildren can read comfortably, but at the same time get the message that life happens to all of us; there are highs and lows, but the choices we make determines whether a honest and meaningful existence can be achieved.

Its about the spirit of giving and the art of forgiving. It shows we can learn to deal with loved ones inner self then cope with the results of their decisions. We

learn from Hannah Moss that to simply love with conviction is to survive all the heartaches and disappointments, as well as pleasures life throws our way. And that maintaining a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior as she does softens the blows that reality slaps you with from time to time.

Also, we learn that having a sense of humor helps to lower the hurdles as we run this race of life, measuring each step carefully before leaping. What we know for sure gives us hope for tomorrow while enjoying what God has given us today, considering the truth that it is all temporary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 15, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452080413

Book preview

© 2010 L. Smith Linthicum. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 11/2/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-8040-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-8041-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010914006

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Dedicated to my dear children

Melvin

Kenneth

Rachael

You have made my job as a mother, easy.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

It took every inch of Hannah’s gut to pick up the phone and dial the number written on the back of an old appointment card. She cried silently as she pressed the number nine slowly and carefully; fearing she wouldn’t have enough courage to redial if she got it wrong.

Anger more than fear consumed her. She thought that if no Medical Doctor could solve her problem, certainly no Psychiatrist could either; but since all else had failed her, and she was no quitter, her only option was to make the call. However, her fingers shook uncontrollably and would not let her focus on the next number.

Dr. Webster, her primary care Physician, had threatened to call Dr. Miller himself, and make an appointment for her when she’d called him a few hours earlier wanting to come in and just talk about things.

We’ve talked and talked; its time you got professional counseling. Listen to me Hannah; we’ve done every conceivable procedure and test I know of over the past fifteen or so years. My dear, you cannot bear a child. There are other options. We’ve discussed them many times. And now, with all your added problems, I suggest you take two of your pills; call the number I just gave you and do it now. You are a ticking time bomb. Call Dr. Miller, and we all will be better off; especially you. Come see me after you’ve seen him. Dr. Webster was stern with his speech. And you don’t need to be alone; where’s Beverly? Call Sheryl or somebody who can stay with you a few days.

But I was there with her. We’d been best friends since college where we first met in the mid Eighties. I don’t know which one of us was more small town. We wore skirts with loafers and white socks while all the other students were wearing jeans and sneakers. I suppose that’s why we connected with one another (it takes one to know one).

Hannah had moved to the city from Mobile, Alabama, because her sister was here attending the University on a scholarship. She had been given several small grants but not enough to attend a four year University. A Community College suited her fine; she could do what she wanted with a two year Associate Degree.

I had lived in the city since Middle School but was a girl who had been taken out of the country but couldn’t get the country out of me. We loaded our schedules with the classes we needed and made a pact to master them all.

Our accounting Professor always picked on us in a way I thought was meant to demean our characters. Every day is was Hannah Moss, will you please bring your paper to my desk. Or Beverly Lunar, explain the theory of thus and so. He’d do just about any thing to set us apart from the city students.

If only he knew he was making us stronger willed, because we studied together and prepared ourselves for whatever he’d throw at us. All we wanted to do was get the best education we could in the shortest time.

The next two years were strictly Business; there was no time for partying and socializing. We both got our associate degrees with honors and were fortunate enough to find good jobs right away. Although soon after graduation we went different ways and lost touch.

Hannah asked me to call another friend, Karen Kemp whom we knew was out of town, but wanted her know what had happened; I left her a message to call as soon as she could.

Karen was a Case Worker at the adoption agency Hannah and I were referred to way back when. My husband and I decided not to adopt soon after I miscarried, but Hannah and David refused to even go see her.

When I later introduced them as a mutual friend; they realized they had seen each other somewhere previously; then discovered they were members of the same church. We have been the best of friends since. Only Karen was the lucky one; she had three kids.

I made Hannah take the medication Dr. Webster had prescribed and insisted she try to relax. We will call this Dr. Miller tomorrow after we’ve gotten some answers, but right now you need rest. I promised not to let anything happen to her while she slept; but she wanted to talk.

She thought about Daddy Everman and made herself upset all over again. I reminded her that the Officer said someone would go over and talk to him. They would also get someone to stay with him, if necessary.

What about Pastor Hawkins and Pastor James? O my Lord: Pastor James! He’s been David’s pastor all his life. He’ll be devastated. Hannah was sobbed openly.

My dear, we all are devastated. It’s on all the TV stations. There is no way in heaven anything close to this tragedy could have ever been predicted. It’s a holy mess. Maybe we should pray?

Hannah was too angry to pray. Angry with herself because she couldn’t have a child: Angry with her husband who didn’t want to adopt; wanted his own boy or girl; didn’t matter which: Angry with doctors, specialists, miscarriages, failed procedures, and most of all, angry with God.

Yes; God had failed her and she was livid. She blurted out list after list of reasons He shouldn’t have let this happen to her. I’m your child. I work faithfully in your church. I pay a reasonably amount of money for the on going of your kingdom. I cannot lie and say I truthfully tithe, but I am a good Christian woman.

In her mind, the list grew longer, but after a few minutes (the pills kicked in) a quiet spirit came over her and she gave in to it. She realized the pity party had to stop because she had a serious problem on her hands and whining wasn’t going to solve it.

The Lord why me, became, Lord why not me. Over the years she had matured in her worship experience and her prayers were more powerful and sincere. The pity party had felt good while it lasted; however, she had to deal with the problem at hand and needed God to see her through it.

She sat in her favorite chair and reflected on her life with this man she had doted and loved unconditionally for twenty-one years. Her mind went back to their first Thanksgiving in their new home when she’d gotten up early that morning to take the twenty pound turkey out of the freezer to cook for dinner; when it finally thawed out two days later she had David carve it raw, then boiled it in two pots because she didn’t have one big enough to hold it all.

And how he’d tried to eat the banana pudding she’d assembled, then baked in the oven at 325 degrees for thirty minutes, turning it into a cake.

Not to mention the New Years Eve she cooked chitterlings without cleaning them first. She swears unto this day that they were the best she’d ever eaten. David ate them and said he liked them but never ate any more regardless who cooked them. She never would have known to wash them before cooking if her sister hadn’t came over the next New Years Eve to help her pick them.

She recalled how David had unselfishly but reluctantly produced twice the amount of semen the lab needed for artificial insemination procedures and told the doctor this is all I have, so please; make every one count.

There were some not so good times swirling around in her head, too. Like the panic attacks David had suffered over the years. The first one almost took her out as well as him.

They were home one evening playing Scrabble in the game room, when he became extremely irate when she’d laughed and teased him after winning the game. He jumped up, yelled something that sounded like a foreign language; started karate chopping the air, hopping around kicking and swinging. He was fighting an imaginary person.

Hannah ran from the game room and locked herself in the bedroom. After an hour or so he knocked on the door and assured her that he was fine and apologized for what had happened. He sat on the bed and explained that this thing had happened to him twice before since his Mother had died and he had no idea what caused it. She convinced herself to let it go this time, but promised if it happened again, she would call an ambulance.

It did happen again and David was rushed to the hospital in a straight jacket. Hannah smiled as she remembered the doctors asking her if he had on any contacts or false teeth; she said no. At that moment David motioned with his head for her to come to him; then he whispered to her that he had a partial plate.

You mean teeth? Hannah asked loudly.

He nodded yes.

The doctor removed the restraint from his right arm to allow him to take the plate from his mouth. It was the strangest looking thing she’d ever seen; one canine and two molars on a wire that fit the roof of his mouth.

He was examined by doctors and therapists and it was determined that all he needed was medication. They made him promise to take it as prescribed; Hannah agreed to make sure that he did.

Hannah snapped to reality when the phone rang. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. How could she explain to anyone what had just happened? She didn’t even know what had happened, herself. The details given to her were vague and confusing.

David was dead and she would never know why he chose to die this way. The officer said she didn’t have to worry any more; it was all over; that David decided to die when he refused to stop after he was ordered to. And that she needed to go down to the morgue tomorrow and identify his body. They would send a car to pick her up.

"What’s all over? She kept asking; but never got an answer.

It was her sister, Sheryl, calling in route to be with her during this nightmare.

Chapter 2

Seven years after graduating from the local Community College, we ended up being roommates at the University Hospital where we were both recovering from miscarriages. It was like a crying contest between us. We were so pitiful the staff on our floor gave us flowers when we were discharged. Silk flowers.

They promised to never forget either of us; wished us well, and would keep us in their prayers as long as the flowers lasted. I still have my bouquet to this day.

We couldn’t really catch up on the past years during our stay in the hospital, but I did learn that was Hannah’s second miscarriage in two years.

A few days later, we met for lunch on a Saturday afternoon. She told me I had missed her big church wedding: That she and her husband, David lived in the southern sector of our large metropolis and had expected to have had a child by now.

We still had a lot in common; homes in quaint suburban neighborhoods, good hard working husbands, two year-old vehicles, and permanent jobs with perks including insurance that paid our hospital stays. The only major difference between us was, I accepted that I could not birth children; she did not and insisted she’d never stop trying.

She told me about her job with a Communications Firm downtown in the accounting department as an analysis. She’d gotten the job soon after graduating from College.

She also told me her mother who had single-handedly raised her and her sister Sheryl had been killed in an auto accident prior to her graduating from high school and there were no other immediate family back home in Alabama; only Aunts, and Uncle and a few Cousins. We’d never talked about our families when we were in school because the focus was on learning.

She loved her job because she could often work late and come in on weekends when necessary and even fill in for others in an emergency; but most of all she could take extended lunch breaks to run errands; she was always willing to go an extra mile to get the work done and her boss rewarded her.

The day she met her husband, David: She’d addressed Christmas cards early in December and decided to go to the downtown Post Office to buy stamps on her lunch break and mail her cards there. As she was waiting in line, she glanced back to