May Day: I Could Use Some Help Here

By Linda Schiro-Ross

Anyone sixteen years or older will enjoy the true experiences of a young girl left to fend for herself in a big city. Her father has told her she is wet behind the ears, but her belief in herself is nonstop.
If you are interested in boats, this is an opportunity to learn how three generations of the authors family went from a toy boat to a yacht, giving detailed specifications and history. The author shows her bravery and determination to save the day when she swims under water to rescue the family boat.
A volunteer fire department becomes the social center of the community while putting out fires. Coffee has to be served at one dangerous fire in the middle of the night, and things get hot.
The author stops in the middle of the match point in a tennis game to analyze it. She and her partner are blood sisters, and no one better mess with them.
The author shows you how to bargain her way or no way when she travels through Morocco, buying souvenirs. After a nerve-wracking hike to the Sun Gate at Machu Picchu, she loses her group when she goes to the toilet.
Living at a dorm while attending secretarial school and trying to stay alive in the big City of Chicago becomes an unmanageable feat, the dorm turns out to be the cottage of the well-known Schwinn bicycle family from the turn of the century, and the floor mates are just as interesting.
The book will pique your interest when the author describes the layout and design of a top law firm in Chicago. An associate attorney challenges his legal secretary with his dictation of a legal brief detailing nudity.
You will get a peek into the classrooms of a Catholic Elementary School housed in a convent. The drama and tactics of one nun in particular will taunt the author, and then two other nuns will restore her heart with wonderful feelings.
In May Day, there is jealousy and sabotage, love and marriage, death, and lots of tears, and you wont want to miss the Hawaiian Luau given by the fraternity, Sigma Phi Epsilon, or is it a toga party?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514492086

Linda Schiro-Ross

Linda Schiro-Ross was born in Rockford, Illinois, and moved to Chicago in May 1961. She graduated from Moser Secretarial School and worked for one of the top five law firms in the nation. She and her husband, Larry, resided in Naperville, Illinois, for thirty-two years and have two daughters and four grandchildren. After raising her daughters, Linda went back to work as an administrative secretary for the assistant superintendent at Indian Prairie School District #204 in Naperville/Aurora until she retired. She and her husband now reside in Citrus County, Florida. A second-generation Sicilian/Italian, Linda has preserved her passion for the Sicilian culture in cooking and in the memories that remain of her ancestors, as shown in her first publication of Nana Eggs: With Soldiers, as well as her current publication of May Day: I Could Use Some Help Here. Linda has traveled to the ends of the earth to such places as Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, South America, and the Middle East. Her bucket list has not yet been completed. Don’t expect to see a third book too soon, as Linda has to go back to the drawing board and continue her journey through life.

Book preview

May Day

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I Could Use Some Help Here

LINDA SCHIRO-ROSS

Copyright © 2016 by LINDA SCHIRO-ROSS.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5144-9209-3

                 eBook         978-1-5144-9208-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 05/19/2016

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

742040

Contents

Introduction

When Nonna Died

Ken-Rock Community Center

Marrakesh

Egypt

Machu Picchu

The Angel Baby

Tree Stumps

The Sea Ranch

The Fire Station

Sister

The Proposal

It Would Be An Honor

Animal House

The Tennis Match

A Letter To Georgie

Bugs, Etc.

Esther Hall

A Jealous Woman

My Aunt Maryanne

Breasts, Bosoms, And Buttocks

At 80, She Graduated

The End

Introduction

A s soon as my memoir, Nana Eggs, With Soldiers, was published, I was inspired to write May Day, I Could Use Some Help Here. May Day was written in the five weeks that followed publication of Nana Eggs, and once the idea was conceived, there was no stopping until I finished.

Writing May Day was very emotional for me. I cried a lot while writing some of the stories. While it was a difficult process, it was somewhat easy, because a voice in my head was transmitting all the thoughts.

It wasn’t all that easy though, because the voice didn’t transmit the thoughts in final form. Bits and pieces would sometimes be sent to me in the middle of the night or while I was in the middle of writing a different story. I would have to get out of bed and write down what I was hearing, so I wouldn’t forget it by the next morning.

When I arrived at the tennis courts one morning, my tennis friend, Jean, told me I looked very tired. I was, because I had been writing until 2:00 in the morning and didn’t get much sleep. It then occurred to me while playing tennis I had forgotten to include one of my most memorable stories. The Tennis Match was written the very next day and is the last story I wrote for May Day. It had to be written because the book wouldn’t be complete without it.

On the morning I first printed out the completed manuscript, my mouth hung open. The printer was ejecting page after page after page. I was stunned.

I had tried to turn off the thoughts earlier, because May Day was consuming me, but the voice in my head wouldn’t stop. My days were spent writing hour after hour, and would continue into the late evening, or until the iPad alerted me that there was only a 10% charge left on the battery. I would have to force myself to quit and go to bed. Lunch would be forgotten and missed until dinnertime arrived, and then I would have to tear myself away in order to make dinner. I wouldn’t eat much, and returned to writing as soon as the kitchen was cleaned up. I lost weight, but unfortunately it was only one pound.

By the last weekend of the fifth week, I had decided that I had to end the book, because I was becoming exhausted. Not only that, but my husband, Larry, missed me. He was glad when I told him I was finished. I was glad too.

By May Day I had contracted to publish my book.

When Nonna Died

W hen Nonna died, we all died. At least, that’s how it seemed to me. We couldn’t watch TV or listen to the radio. We couldn’t laugh or smile. We couldn’t play with our friends. That would have been disrespectful to the dead! This would go on for a month or longer.

After Nonna died, I had hoped that no one else in our family would ever die. I didn’t think I could ever live through another grieving period like that.

Daddy had cried and cried, and no one could have matched his grief. We had been traveling around the western United States for a month when we were notified that Nonna had had a stroke. She was asking for Daddy. She was asking for everyone, but we were over a thousand miles away. It would take us 24 hours or more to drive home by car. Mother helped with the driving so we could drive straight through without stopping at a motel or eating in a restaurant.

When we were half way home, we stopped at a gas station where there was a pay phone. Mother made the call to find out how Nonna was doing. When she came back to the car, she didn’t say a word. Daddy began driving and, within a few seconds, he pulled off the road and began to cry. By her silence, he knew that Nonna had died, and he wasn’t there at her bedside. She had been asking for him, and he had not been there. He had let her down, and he would never forgive himself.

Daddy cried all the way home. Mother cried, my brother Georgie cried, and I cried, partly because I loved my Nonna and partly because the situation in the car was so traumatic. I couldn’t do anything else.

When we finally arrived at home, we went to Nonna and Nonno’s house to sit and grieve with all the other relatives. We would spend hours and hours sitting around crying, day after day.

The wake was held at a funeral home in the Italian section of the city. Everyone in the world had sent flowers. They were beautiful! Nonna’s hair was unusually white and she was wearing her best dress, my aunts had said. A clock hung over the casket displaying the time of her death. Daddy stood next to the casket wailing, half in English and half in Italian.

Daddy cried and cried, mother cried, Georgie cried, everybody cried, and I cried, partly because I loved my Nonna and partly because life was going to be unbearable for the rest of my life. It was the end of the world!

The funeral was held at St. Anthony’s Church, also in the Italian community. Before the burial, the hearse passed by Nonna’s house. It was the last time Nonna would see her house.

When Nonno died it was a different story. Nonno lived many, many years longer than Nonna, until 93 years old. During the last fifteen years of Nonno’s life, Daddy would not go on vacation or leave town for fear that Nonno would die, and Daddy wouldn’t be there. Daddy would visit Nonno every morning. One morning when Daddy came to visit, Nonno had fallen asleep in his chair. The screen door was locked and Daddy couldn’t get in, so he broke down the door. Nonno had fallen asleep, forever!

My husband, Larry, and I, along with our daughters, Melinda and Tania, were vacationing at a resort in Michigan with my aunt and uncle, Maryanne and Fred, and their children, Kim, Lisa and Jeremy. The cabins were chalet-style and located on Lake Michigan. One of the things we liked about the chalet was that it was large enough for our two families. Even the pantry was large, so large that one night I found Uncle Fred sitting in there eating up all the Oreo cookies.

In the middle of the night, someone was knocking and shouting very loudly at