Reflective Sympathy: True Love Story

By James H. Graham

What if our heart was blind to the rules of our faith? What if bending the rules meant gaining deeper insight into the ways of love? Could a shy man heal a broken heart and find love again?

This personal love story begins in a cool dimly lit local pub and brings the readers into a journey of discovering love, happiness, prosperity, heartache and anxiety. The journey through forty-three years of marriage ends in faith and acceptance.

The story also deals with the stress of caring for a handicapped child, and the anxiety incurred when melding different families. It also offers insight into healing, and overcoming grief.

Reflective Sympathy is about looking back over a life, and reflecting on all the ups and downs with sympathy, but not regret.

Live a True Love Story from the authors personal words. Enjoy spiritual and compassionate portrayals, and live the experience of broken marriages. Marvel at the sincere desire for prosperity. Savor the heart-warming reflections of the authors life journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456740313

James H. Graham

Have you ever dreamed of prosperity, a life of contentment? Jim Graham fulfilled that dream. On January 6, 1960, he began that journey when employed by Kulicke and Soffa Industries. He became the exemplar of a young man elevating himself from rags to riches, enriched with love. This was not the only time, however, that Graham reached for his dreams. Graham was born on December 19, 1935, in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, and remained in his birth town. There were many poor people while Graham was growing up, but yet there were many affluent role models guiding his path. Being raised poor did not stop him from achieving his goals of prosperity. He was especially interested in mechanics, materials, and the inter-working of complex products. Luckily, his parents and relatives encourage that interest. That encouragement drove him to excel. He certified in Tool and Die making and Mechanical Engineering, and advanced his education, enrolling in a magnitude of post-graduate courses. No obstacle was too great for Graham; he was on a mission—prosperity. In 1982, he began educating himself on the use of personal computers, writing programs that were used globally to reduce manufacturing time and reduce the cost of mechanical components. Graham began to publish articles for magazines and newspapers; he wished to share his experience, opinions, and expertise. Today he is retired; using his skills, Graham continues to publish articles, compose poems, research and compile genealogies, and to author and publish his autobiography, Prosperity, The Jagged Trail. Graham also authored his second book, a love story, Reflective Sympathy. His life example teaches us to follow our dreams to prosperity, share with others our expertise, console and assist those in need, and trust in God, no matter how far away your dreams may seem to be.

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Disclaimer

The events in this book are based on a true story; some artistic license has been taken with certain facts, dialog, and the chronological order of events, but the balance of the story is true and correct as recalled by the author.

Dedication

For Judie L. Graham and John (Jonnie) P. Longacre Jr.

Both have so lovingly enriched our lives. They loved, encouraged, and supported their family eternally.

I bow my head and offer a silent prayer. I know Judie’s wonderful years of life have touched us deeply, and Jonnie will always share our love. We shall ever be mindful of the contributions they made to their family and friends.

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Acknowledgments

I thank everyone who has so graciously encouraged me and made my life what it is today: thankful, peaceful, humble, and God-loving. Perhaps all of those special individuals who urged me to continue have helped me share my secrets in a positive approach to life. You have helped me to express my true feelings, my desires, and a compassion for life’s challenges.

I thank my late wife Judie and my children Jeff, Gary, and Jonnie for what I have learned from them over the years. They have contributed vast amounts of love, understanding, and compassion throughout our life, and they have made this book possible. A little of something of each of them will be found throughout this book.

I thank Susan Summers, with whom I have had the pleasure of working. Without her assistance, this book would not have been possible. As my editor and critic, she has an abundance of talent and patience. She read my manuscript and drafts, understood my messages, and helped me to say what I wanted to say.

I thank Evey Spaar, Laurie Cretsinger, and Julie Farris for their encouragement, suggestions and expertise. They motivated me to write what is in my heart, to honor family, to continue trusting in God, and to write a story worthy of the ones I love.

Above all, I thank my wonderful family and friends for their untiring love and support.

I Listened

You walk with God, never being alone;

you reflect on your life to friends at great length.

Where do you begin, thanking those you have known,

who assisted in giving you all of your strength–

Their compassion and friendship, abundance of love,

throughout the writing of this, your new book.

You’re cautiously urged to take off your gloves and

present your thoughts so they are not mistook.

Your intent must be to assist those who whine,

retain a good outlook, and bolster your spine.

God gives you true faith through his caring good words;

in return you will see that God’s words are divine.

You emptied your soul and shared God’s lessons.

Never questioning your God, your life has less tension.

Your book is truthful; you shared your compassion,

your love, and your faith—you shared your attraction.

Your writings bring comfort—what joy and what peace!

Your words are uplifting, through God’s loving grace.

Contents

Disclaimer

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Just One Drink

A Friendly Conversation

Just Friends

Scars from the Past

Changes

Moving Forward

Meeting the Parents

Judie’s Children

Dating and Family Relationships

The Ring

Wedding Preparations

The Big Day

A Home of Their Own

Jonnie

Jeff

Anxiety

A Fresh Coat of Paint

Life’s a Party

Travel and Prosperity

Jeff’s Teen Years

Judie’s Travels

Gary, a New Year, a New Beginning

Family Dynamics and Developments

A Surprise Party

Retirement

Alone

Judie Speaks

Grieving and Healing Steps

About the Author

Further Reading

Introduction

Have you ever felt that there were too many rainy days in your life and not enough sunshine? Do you ever look back and wish that you had said or done something differently? Have you ever wondered about hardships endured in your and others’ lives? Do you ever have sympathy for those who are afflicted with debilitating issues? Well, join the club!

Those who know me well are not surprised to learn that I am the quiet, shy type, never pushing myself forward for fear of being pushed back. Does that sound like you? Well, join the club!

Back in the ’60s, I was sitting at the bar in a local pub. I was recovering from divorce issues and sipping my beverage, J&B scotch on the rocks, and contemplating, what if? Oh, there were others enjoying the relaxing and comfortable atmosphere, but they also were lonely, or were fully engaged with their mates. I was relaxed, and as I thought about my future, I noticed no one seemed to care who I was, nor did I attempt to converse with anyone; I am a shy, lonely man. As I sat, strategically located to observe the entrance door, hoping for a friend to join me, looking for friendship, I began to lose hope. Patrons came and went, and time passed so slowly. As I was finishing what I believed was my last beverage, the entrance door swung open, and a beautiful, well-manicured lady entered. Before she even sat down, I was giddy with her overall beauty. I wondered if I had I seen her before and where. She is so beautiful, I thought. Could I, the shy, quiet type begin a conversation with her?

Just One Drink

It was a warm summer evening, and as the sun went down, a gentle breeze came in from the Atlantic, cooling the warm, humid air. The fragrance of freshly cut hay from nearby working farms where they had been baling all day caught the breeze. The evening felt quiet and reflective. Rush hour was over, and only a few cars were traveling through the small town Judie was entering. She knew this town well; only a few years back it had truly been a small town, but now it had grown to be an industrial town of about thirty-five thousand people. It was nestled along a gently flowing tree-lined river that created a picturesque postcard image of rural Pennsylvania.

At least it was quiet so Judie could think, but her thoughts took her on a never ending merry-go-round. Like a hamster on a wheel, she ran through the same thoughts over and over. Two boys sped down the sidewalk on their bikes, undoubtedly late for dinner. She smiled wistfully at them and thought, If only I could hope Jonnie would ride a bike one day, speeding along, carefree and strong with his little brother following trying to catch up. If only I could hope for anything.

I don’t want to go home. Not yet. I just need a moment to relax. Is that too much to ask? What would my husband think if he found out I just stopped for one drink before going home? Would he even notice or care? He’s never home anyway. A nice drink would help me relax and face that exhausting bedtime routine. Even thinking about how tiring taking care of Jonnie could be brought a flood of guilt. What kind of mother am I to feel so burdened by the care of my own child? Then again, Jonnie is no regular child, and he’s getting so heavy now. He’s almost too heavy for me to lift him. And Jeff, my baby, my perfect cherub, how will I ever give him the attention he needs? He probably thinks Grandmother Mary is his mother. Even when I’m home, Jonnie takes so much of my time and energy. I’m just a failure. It’s all my fault.

Judie made a conscious effort to make her thoughts stop the familiar downward spiral. Her doctor had advised her that these thoughts might never leave her and that if she didn’t get a handle on them, she could develop physical problems of her own.

Judie thought about how Jonnie’s eyes lit up when she came in the room and spoke to him, and she smiled to herself. It wasn’t much, but it was the little rewards that made it bearable. Why can’t I just have one moment? One little drink? Please, God, give me guidance. I know I’m a sinner, but I’m doing my best. I’m working two jobs now to help pay the medical bills for Jonnie. I’ve tried to be a good wife and a good mother. Everyone is so happy for a girl to marry, why doesn’t anyone tell her how lonely it is? No more hanging out with your single girlfriends on carefree nights or yakking on the phone for hours about nothing in particular.

Judie thought this town comforting, and as the miles rolled along, she knew she had made a decision. She would stop for one beverage and then be on her way. Nobody can fault me for that, she told herself out loud. I’ve put in a hard day’s work at the trucking company. Those truckers are not so easy to handle sometimes, but I stick to my clerical work, and they all like me pretty well. God knows I need the work with Jonnie’s medical bills piling up and John out of work.

I am so tired, she said, slapping the steering wheel with her hand. She thought, How can I only be twenty-two years old? I feel twice that age already. I just want to be happy, what’s so wrong with that? I remember being happy. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only a few years ago before, before … everything. Before I fell for a boy with a fast, shiny car. How silly to choose a boy for his car, a Mennonite in a flashy car! What an oxymoron, and what a moron I was. Why didn’t I listen to my mom? Why was I so desperate to leave home? And all that was before Jonnie, my angel. I still wonder if I caused it. Did I have some defect of character or judgment, or was it something I did? Cerebral palsy, not my fault, at least that’s what the doctors say, but I still think it must be my fault somehow. After all, my negative blood was part of the problem that caused the premature delivery.

John hadn’t even been there for the birth. Where was he? He knew the problems Judie had been having with back pain. She had been so scared. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. A husband should be there for his pregnant wife, yet Judie ended up getting on a bus all the way to her sister’s house, and Fay had to take her to the hospital. Thank God Fay had been there for her, but where was everyone else? Why didn’t anyone seem to care?

Judie recalled the ordeal she had faced at the hospital. The rush to the delivery room, the fear and pain. The short-lived joy of having given birth was overshadowed by news that went from bad to worse as more facts rolled in. Two and a half pounds. Two and a half months premature. Rh negative blood in the mother. Cerebral palsy. Transport to Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia. Emergency evaluation. A fifty-fifty chance of survival. Mentally retarded. A lifetime of constant medical attention. Burden of care. It was too much for a young woman, still in her teens, to absorb. God help me! she cried as they broke the news to her. Did she want to continue treatment to try to save him or let nature take its course? How could they stand there in their white coats and cold faces and ask such a question? Save my son! Do everything you can. He’s my son. He’s my son. He has to live, she had sobbed as Fay, her only comfort, held her hand and stroked her hair.

Judie shook her head to clear the memory that replayed too vividly and too often. She tried to bring herself back to the present moment, but she took a moment to recall Jeff’s birth and how comparatively smooth his delivery had been. She had changed doctors and Dr. Tucker was a great comfort who never left her side. Yes, he’s fine. Perfectly normal, no problems whatsoever, he had assured her.

Judie had given a cry of relief after months of anxiety for her second pregnancy. Thank you, God, thank you, thank you. Thank you, Dr. Tucker, and then she slept the first peaceful sleep in months.

Was that the last time I actually slept through the night? she wondered. I don’t feel like I’ve had a good night’s rest since Jonnie was born; no wonder I’m exhausted. Again, Judie shook her head to clear the memory that kept replaying. Oh my, oh my, she told herself out loud. Stop thinking so much and relax, have a beverage—but where?

She thought of the Coachlight; the younger crowd tended to go there, and they would have entertainment. It might be fun to hear a couple songs, and she might see someone she knew from high school, but she thought she wasn’t really in the mood for socializing with old friends who were undoubtedly still single and having fun. All that noise didn’t sound relaxing, so she thought of the Downtown Pub. Downtown was classier, quieter, with a much more relaxed atmosphere. She had stopped there a couple of times and knew a few friends who went there who were more settled. It was friendly and felt safe there in the upscale west end of town, so she made the turn toward downtown, still not yet firm in her decision to stop. The adjoining stores had all closed for the day, and the two-story red brick Downtown Pub with its well-lit entrance was a welcoming beacon of friendship.

Still tortured by her thoughts, Judie wondered, Am I making the right choice? I am married and have children at home. As if it were a sign, or an answer to the prayer she had made earlier, there was an empty parking spot directly in front of the pub. Judie knew this spot was popular for working professionals; she wondered if it was a slow night, which would suit her just fine. She said aloud, Just one drink. That’s all I’m asking. One, and then I go home.

The large glass window in the front of the building had sheer white curtains with dark blue swags on top. It was tastefully decorated and obscured the soft interior light just enough so that people walking past on the outside could only see silhouettes of the patrons inside.

As she entered the pub, Judie recognized a few familiar faces and noticed the mix of ages. Many patrons had their drinks at the bar and were talking. Other people were playing pool, shuffleboard, or darts in the far room, away from the softly lit and comfortable main social area. She moved to an open table in the main side of the pub, away from the noise of the game room, and settled into her chair. She began to feel better immediately. Soft popular music was playing, and as she took in the classy décor, she felt calm for the first time all day. Even the flickering candle seemed to be saying, Relax, relax, relax!

Judie unbuttoned her suit jacket, checked her makeup in her purse mirror, and, finding everything to her satisfaction, snapped it shut and took a breath. She scanned the room to see who was there and noticed everyone was chatting with someone, but she reminded herself she wasn’t there for friendship, only to relax and be alone with her thoughts.

The waitress paused by her table. Hey, you look great tonight. Would you like to order something from the bar?

Yes, please, I’ll have gin and tonic, Judie said, smiling.

Judie noticed she was getting some attention from the bar, but she