LOUIS JAY WEINBERG aka "Maug the Dragon"
Artist : Writer: Veteran: Surivor of Multiple TBI
WRITINGS and POEMS POSTED TO DATE: 7
Section One: POETRY
Artist : Writer: Veteran: Surivor of Multiple TBI
WRITINGS and POEMS POSTED TO DATE: 7
Section One: POETRY
POEM: 1
BREEZES
She comes to me on a breeze,
as if a pale scented feather.
Flowing in and out of my life,
floating on a current of wind.
Blowing through my mind
and softly caressing my thoughts.
Her presence is always fleeting,
as are the seconds of time.
Her eyes are fascinating,
and filled with the sun.
Her love invades a room,
as does the scent of wildflowers
on a rolling summer hillside.
The corridors of time
now seem ever present.
Gently reminding me that
this moment in time will not last forever.
There can be no rain,
whenever I am near her.
The rains only come,
when the breeze takes her away.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
She comes to me on a breeze,
as if a pale scented feather.
Flowing in and out of my life,
floating on a current of wind.
Blowing through my mind
and softly caressing my thoughts.
Her presence is always fleeting,
as are the seconds of time.
Her eyes are fascinating,
and filled with the sun.
Her love invades a room,
as does the scent of wildflowers
on a rolling summer hillside.
The corridors of time
now seem ever present.
Gently reminding me that
this moment in time will not last forever.
There can be no rain,
whenever I am near her.
The rains only come,
when the breeze takes her away.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
POEM: 2
THESE COLD FLOORS
Pain and despair, loneliness and isolation,
always feeling alone.
I see the people who walk these floors,
always a sigh or a moan.
I see their anguish, anxiety and fear,
it is hard for them to hide.
The doctors, the nurses, and even their families,
just tell them to take it in stride.
They hide in their heads, their eyes and their mouths,
the latter is always silent.
They come here because they are hurt, or sad,
or sometimes because they are violent.
The damaged, the broken, the emotionally impaired,
they are all gathered here,
to walk these cold floors in search of salvation.
or simply to sit and stare.
In October of 1998, I spent some time in a mental institution for evaluation after a suicide attempt.
While there I wrote several pieces this was the most accurate of them.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
THESE COLD FLOORS
Pain and despair, loneliness and isolation,
always feeling alone.
I see the people who walk these floors,
always a sigh or a moan.
I see their anguish, anxiety and fear,
it is hard for them to hide.
The doctors, the nurses, and even their families,
just tell them to take it in stride.
They hide in their heads, their eyes and their mouths,
the latter is always silent.
They come here because they are hurt, or sad,
or sometimes because they are violent.
The damaged, the broken, the emotionally impaired,
they are all gathered here,
to walk these cold floors in search of salvation.
or simply to sit and stare.
In October of 1998, I spent some time in a mental institution for evaluation after a suicide attempt.
While there I wrote several pieces this was the most accurate of them.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
POEM: 3
FRIENDS I'VE KNOWN, MILES I'VE ROAMED
I can remember all the friends that I've known. The relationships and the love that has grown
Yet always I feel as though I'm alone.
I think of the good times had and the hours spent. The tears and the smiles, the laughter and lament.
I wonder where all those good friends went.
For time has a way of stealing your life. Of filling your days with consternation and strife.
But those people were always there to make it alright.
I drift through this life from this place to that. The people flow off with a tip of my hat.
I do not think twice on the same ground I've spat.
As the ground keeps moving beneath my wheels. The miles spin into endless reel's.
My boots always seem in need of new heel's.
I 'm just looking for a place where I fit in. Where being myself is not a holy sin.
A place for the rest of my life to begin.
A person in hard times whose love he lends. Someone with powers my broken heart mends.
This usually comes in the form of a friend.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
06/16/98
FRIENDS I'VE KNOWN, MILES I'VE ROAMED
I can remember all the friends that I've known. The relationships and the love that has grown
Yet always I feel as though I'm alone.
I think of the good times had and the hours spent. The tears and the smiles, the laughter and lament.
I wonder where all those good friends went.
For time has a way of stealing your life. Of filling your days with consternation and strife.
But those people were always there to make it alright.
I drift through this life from this place to that. The people flow off with a tip of my hat.
I do not think twice on the same ground I've spat.
As the ground keeps moving beneath my wheels. The miles spin into endless reel's.
My boots always seem in need of new heel's.
I 'm just looking for a place where I fit in. Where being myself is not a holy sin.
A place for the rest of my life to begin.
A person in hard times whose love he lends. Someone with powers my broken heart mends.
This usually comes in the form of a friend.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
06/16/98
POEM: 4
THE STONE
I stumbled upon a rock one day, down in the muck and mire,
I looked at it good and long, it's solidarity did inspire.
For down among the dirt and rubble,
sat this little stone,
Taking on mother nature, and all of her elements alone.
I wondered if I were this rock, would I have what it took,
to be strong and brave and hold my ground, or would myself be shook?
From my place in the ground, the place that I called home,
could I be so strong and true, if I were that stone?
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
I stumbled upon a rock one day, down in the muck and mire,
I looked at it good and long, it's solidarity did inspire.
For down among the dirt and rubble,
sat this little stone,
Taking on mother nature, and all of her elements alone.
I wondered if I were this rock, would I have what it took,
to be strong and brave and hold my ground, or would myself be shook?
From my place in the ground, the place that I called home,
could I be so strong and true, if I were that stone?
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
POEM 5
IF TEARS SHOULD FALL
If tears should fall
and meet the earth,
if sorrow reigns
and brings you hurt,
just look to me
to see you through,
for thats all
I want to do.
For you see
you're in my heart,
you have been from
the very start,
but it grieves me
so to have to wait,
outside your door
outside loves gate.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
If tears should fall
and meet the earth,
if sorrow reigns
and brings you hurt,
just look to me
to see you through,
for thats all
I want to do.
For you see
you're in my heart,
you have been from
the very start,
but it grieves me
so to have to wait,
outside your door
outside loves gate.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
POEM: 6
BUT IF NOT FOR A PRECIOUS MOMENT
Do not think my love too good for you,
and think not yourself worthy of being loved.
Believe in yourself and others will follow.
Know that you are worthy of the very best that this life has to offer,
and seize upon it every chance you can.
For we are not here for all that long, and you shall find, that if you let it,
all good things will pass you by forever.
And you will regret, and I will cry for you.
I am glad that I can touch you inside, with mere words,
as you have touched me with your smile.
Because if not but for a precious moment,
you have made my heart smile,
made life worth living,
and have brought me joy.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
Section Two: WRITINGS
BUT IF NOT FOR A PRECIOUS MOMENT
Do not think my love too good for you,
and think not yourself worthy of being loved.
Believe in yourself and others will follow.
Know that you are worthy of the very best that this life has to offer,
and seize upon it every chance you can.
For we are not here for all that long, and you shall find, that if you let it,
all good things will pass you by forever.
And you will regret, and I will cry for you.
I am glad that I can touch you inside, with mere words,
as you have touched me with your smile.
Because if not but for a precious moment,
you have made my heart smile,
made life worth living,
and have brought me joy.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002 Louis Jay Weinberg
Section Two: WRITINGS
WRITING: 1A
MICHAEL
I can remember sitting on the beach one late summer afternoon, many years ago. The wind whipping in from the Atlantic ocean, the waves lazily crashing into the New Jersey shoreline as a cool sea mist enveloped me. I watched the seagulls hovering in the air, looking for a free meal and a dry place to rest their wings. The ever setting evening sun was hot, I believe it was late August or maybe the first week of September. The cool air felt good in the late summer heat. I could hear the sounds of the people on the boardwalk behind me mixed with the sounds of entertainment. The spinning wheels, the popping balloons, the sounds of the amusement rides all seemed so far off in the distance, yet were so close. The sounds of men and women calling out over the dim roar of people and noise, explaining how and why they could play their game for just a quarter, were ever present in the background. The air was alive with the energy of people, yet somehow I always felt alone, as if I was off in my own little world, a world that only I knew.
I was surrounded by piers on either side of me, about 2000 yards apart from one another. Each of these piers jutted about a quarter of a mile out to sea. They hosted the usual assortment of restaurants, arcades and "booths of chance", where you could lay down your quarter for a prize, but the chances were always greater that your quarter would be lost. Although, it was always worth taking a chance that that quarter may have brought instant gratification. You could have gone home with a new color television, a stereo system, humongous stuffed animals, popcorn poppers, a new toaster , the latest albums or whatever your little capitalistic heart could desire. Imagine that, all for a quarter, or maybe you could have just taken a ride on one of the roller coasters on the end of each pier for a buck. That was where the real excitement was, and with people being as driven for fun as they are, they seem to flock to such places. This is where the people energy comes from, you can just feel it! It is funny though, how you can begin to feel a little insignificant with such great numbers of people gathered around you in one place. A half a million people plus on a good weekend was the normal body count in this particular little shore town . Vacationers abounded here, and even I was on vacation with my father, step mother and sister on this particular visit. Although, my parents vacationed there so much, you might have thought they lived there. The people who lived full-time down along the shore towns in New Jersey called us visitors "Bennie's". I'm sure it had something to do with the fact that as far as they were concerned, we were a real downer to have around. Mainly because of the younger crowd that was attracted to these places, and the havoc that usually accompanied them, not to mention the parking problems!
So, there I was, just sitting there on a sand dune, minding my own business and feeling kind of small as compared to the vast ocean stretching out for untold miles before me, when I began to feel as though I was not blending in as well as I had hoped. My whole purpose for being there on that beach at that particular time of day, was to attain some solitude to begin with, but I suppose I was not feeling as invisible to the world as I was actually hoping for at that moment. It could be very comforting at times to feel unnoticed. Although, I was feeling as if I were at one with my surroundings, like maybe my existence did mean something after all in a small, inobvious way. However, I was to find that I could not go totally unnoticed, and if I may say so, I am glad that I failed in my attempt to be so.
I can still picture the scene in my mind's eye, staring off into a sea of sparkles that glittered off of the ocean's surface for miles , with cloud puffs of white sea foam dissipating along the beach and blue waves for as far as the eye could see, with a bit of sea green thrown in here and there for balance. Small groups of late day sunbathers clamoured about the beach, trying to absorb the last rays of sun for the day, or throwing Frisbees. The local surfers were out doing there thing, and the sounds of the seagulls fighting for space seemed loud in my ears, but most of all, I remember the sounds of the happy children. Seeing these children interacting with their families and being in harmony with one another and nature, was, and still is, a wonderful sight! I can remember watching them play in the surf together, perhaps they were all there together for the very first time, the looks on their faces usually said it all. The joy and excitement of a child playing on the ocean's edge is unmistakable, unforgettable. I can happily recall playing there with my older sister Janet, the excitement and joy of those days are forever with me in my memories.
I always had my sister Janet along with me during our family vacations, I can not remember a time that she was not there with me. She was my big sister, and my best friend for many years. She and I were very close at this time in our lives and we still are. My older brothers and sisters usually chose to not come along, and just stayed at home to take advantage of having the house to themselves, for which I do not blame them in the least. Janet often had to fend for me when my parents were not around, as they were commonly out drinking somewhere along the boardwalk, and that was most of the time, or so it seemed. We got "some" time from my parents during the day, breakfast if you were awake yet, a quick trip to the beach, or a lazy morning or mid afternoon around the pool that was at our hotel, then it was off to the bars of south Jersey for what remained of the day, late into the night. My stepmother would make sure that we had what we needed for the day though, and always left a list with my sister of where they might have been found during the night in case of an emergency. I do not recall much interaction with them in those days, we always seemed to be taking care of ourselves. We stayed at a motor hotel, which I believe was owned by a friend of my parents, I remember him as Frank. My father and stepmother spent at least three or four weeks per summer down at the shore, and we usually got to go one or sometimes maybe for two of those weeks. We always stayed at the Golden Nugget Hotel on Ocean Boulevard. in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. I can reacall a lot of memories there, most of them happily spent with my sister, when we were not fighting, as kids of our ages usually did. I could be very diffacult to deal with at times, and we had our share of arguments. I just happened to be alone on the beach this particular day, I would have to say normally that Janet was with me everywhere I went in those days, but this time I just happened to be by myself.
I was just sitting there in the sand minding my own business, all of 15 years old, pudgey, gawky and trying way too hard to look cool. I was at that age when girls are forefront in one's mind, and I was no different. I was just trying to look cool and take in the sights, when this child, who could not have been more than 7 years old comes walking up to me. A little boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a pair of blue shorts, that were obviously 10 times to large for him, and a yellow and white striped long sleeve T-shirt. The sleeves were too long and hanging over the tips of his fingers, of course. He stopped and looked at me and said "Hi, my name is Michael!". I replied, "Hi Michael, my name is Louie!" and extend my hand for a shake. His eyes lit up like sparklers at the sight of my oncoming hand, and he grabbed it and shook it and he smiled and said "It's really nice to meet you Louie!", with all the enthusiasm of a 7 year old. He asked me if I lived here or was I just visiting like himself? I told him that I was just visiting, and he told me how "cool" it would be if he could live at the shore. I remember I laughed when he said that. What a cute kid he was, he definitely had control of the conversation right from the get go.
We sat in the sand and talked for awhile, as he told me about his family, and his brother and sister who could not be there with him right now. Oh how he missed them he told me, "I wish they could be here with me now" he said with a sad smile on his face. "I think you would really like them too"! I felt for this child for some reason, I really liked him. He radiated an energy that was very pleasant, very comfortable, yet he had an unusal aura about him, he looked pale and a little sick, but his eyes were bright and full of life. He continued on and told me about his mom and dad who were there with him, "See, right over there" he said as he pointed down the beach and waved at them. I saw his parents standing there, looking at us, and smiling quietly. I believe they saw that there was no harm in our sitting there talking, so they simply waved back and allowed him to speak with me He continued on and told me of his house, his friends and his first year in school. He told me of his dog Rocky, his pet fish with no name and his best friend Fred. He said Fred walked kind of funny, but he was his best friend and he loved him none the less. Ahhh, to see through the eyes of a child again. I believe it would do the world a lot of good!
Michael and I spent the better half of an hour talking on the beach that day. A chance meeting of two kids wandering around in their own little seperate worlds, like two souls passing in the breeze. Shortly thereafter Michael's Mom and Dad came walking up. Michael excitedly introduced us, and said to them, "This is my new friend Louie, Mom and Dad, I think he is pretty cool"! And a smile beamed on his face from ear to ear! We exchanged greetings and a smile, and then they announced it was time for them to leave. Michael just looked at me sadly, and stuck his little hand out to me, and with a smile from nowhere stated, "I sure am glad I got to meet you Louie, I like making new friends". I said, "Likewise, and I hope we run into each other again someday Michael " and shook his little hand again, not realizing at that time that that would never occur again, not in this lifetime anyway. Michael just smiled at me, and took his father's hand. Michael's father smiled and nodded politely, then he and Michael began to walk up the beach towards the exit together, hand in hand.
Michael's Mom smiled at me approvingly. I looked into her eyes and she seemed to have the look of a much older women then the twenty some-odd years she portrayed, maybe 28 or 29. But in her eyes I could see a woman much older than that. She began by saying Michael was a very special, very loving child. She told me he had just turned 7 some weeks prior, and had just finished his first year of school. I smiled and told her that we had disscussed that earlier, and I also told her that I knew about Fred, the funny walking friend. An embarrassed smile broke out on her face, and tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She said "I want to thank you very much for spending some time with Michael today. It was very kind of you and I could see that Michael just loved talking to you". It was now my turn for an embarrassed smile, and I assured her that it was no problem. She then went on to explain that his brother and sister could not be there with him on this particular trip and that he had been kind of lonely. She said that they did not have the money to bring the others, and seeing as this was probably Michael's last trip to the shore, his siblings agreed that they would stay behind. What this woman was trying to tell me was not sinking in yet.
I guess the quizzical look on my face spoke something to her, and she continued, "Michael is very sick, he has leukemia, and we don't expect that he is going to be with us much longer. He was doing all right for almost 2 years now, but he has begun to come out of remission, and that is why he might have looked a little thin and pale". I did not know what to say. I was 15, and odds were if I opened my mouth something stupid was going to come out, so I just looked at this sad lady, this sad mother, and listened to her. As this was the summer of 1980, I don't believe that they had a variety of treatments for this ailment yet, nor currently, but she told me that this was the reason for this probably being his last visit to the shore. I could begin to feel myself shake a little bit, as Michael never mentioned once that he was sick, he just wanted to be a normal kid for a little while I suppose.
We sat in a comfortable quiet for a moment. I looked up on the boardwalk and saw Michael and his father standing by the entrance gate, still hand in hand, waiting for Mom. Michael smiled and waved again, I waved back. The woman thanked me once again for my time, then reached over with her right hand and grabbed mine, gave me a little peck on the cheek and said "God bless you Louie", then with eyes full of tears, she walked off to meet Michael and his father. I watched her get to the gate, then they all three looked back my way one more time with a wave and a smile, and then dissapeared into the ever growing swirl of people up on the boardwalk.
I readjusted myself in the sand, hoping to find a comfortable position. I leaned back on my elbow, still trying to maintain an air of coolness, as I watched the shadows cast over the beach and waves, from the setting sun behind me, grow larger. The last flickers of heat danced across the sand, as a three quarter full moon hung lazily in the horizon in the sky above the never ending ocean before me. I felt even smaller now, and my heart went out to poor little Michael, how small he must have felt. I tried to absorb what had just transpired in the last hour or so, and as the sun set behind me for the night, I picked myself up and joined the masses of people gathered up on the boardwalk.
It is now 20 years later, almost to the day, that I met Michael. The summer days are rolling nearest coastline. I am not sure if the word "stranded" is appropriate here or not, but I know I am no longer that 15 year old sitting on a sand dune at the Jersey shore. I have accumulated many problems since those long lazy days of my youth. I rely heavily now on memories of that youth to get me through the present, and into the future. They seem like better times, my teenage years, when it seemed as though I had more control of my life than when I was a child, but not yet faced with the burdens of responsibilities for one's self, one's actions or another life.
I can't help but to think of that little 7 year old boy in my current troubles in life. The strength and courage he showed me that day was, and is still, amazing to me. His life seemed so full, and yet was so short. I have heard nothing of Michael since the day we met, and I am sure due to his illness that he is no longer with us, in the physical sense of course. I can't help believing that this little boy, this awesome energy that was a child in life, was dispersed amongst the universe, and sent back to us all, maybe as a smile, or the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, or a sudden sense of feeling good, the kind that comes and leaves just as fast. That could have been Michael sharing with each of us one final time, in his own way.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002
Saturday, September 09, 2000
Copyright: 1997-2002 Pearl,M.S.
MICHAEL
I can remember sitting on the beach one late summer afternoon, many years ago. The wind whipping in from the Atlantic ocean, the waves lazily crashing into the New Jersey shoreline as a cool sea mist enveloped me. I watched the seagulls hovering in the air, looking for a free meal and a dry place to rest their wings. The ever setting evening sun was hot, I believe it was late August or maybe the first week of September. The cool air felt good in the late summer heat. I could hear the sounds of the people on the boardwalk behind me mixed with the sounds of entertainment. The spinning wheels, the popping balloons, the sounds of the amusement rides all seemed so far off in the distance, yet were so close. The sounds of men and women calling out over the dim roar of people and noise, explaining how and why they could play their game for just a quarter, were ever present in the background. The air was alive with the energy of people, yet somehow I always felt alone, as if I was off in my own little world, a world that only I knew.
I was surrounded by piers on either side of me, about 2000 yards apart from one another. Each of these piers jutted about a quarter of a mile out to sea. They hosted the usual assortment of restaurants, arcades and "booths of chance", where you could lay down your quarter for a prize, but the chances were always greater that your quarter would be lost. Although, it was always worth taking a chance that that quarter may have brought instant gratification. You could have gone home with a new color television, a stereo system, humongous stuffed animals, popcorn poppers, a new toaster , the latest albums or whatever your little capitalistic heart could desire. Imagine that, all for a quarter, or maybe you could have just taken a ride on one of the roller coasters on the end of each pier for a buck. That was where the real excitement was, and with people being as driven for fun as they are, they seem to flock to such places. This is where the people energy comes from, you can just feel it! It is funny though, how you can begin to feel a little insignificant with such great numbers of people gathered around you in one place. A half a million people plus on a good weekend was the normal body count in this particular little shore town . Vacationers abounded here, and even I was on vacation with my father, step mother and sister on this particular visit. Although, my parents vacationed there so much, you might have thought they lived there. The people who lived full-time down along the shore towns in New Jersey called us visitors "Bennie's". I'm sure it had something to do with the fact that as far as they were concerned, we were a real downer to have around. Mainly because of the younger crowd that was attracted to these places, and the havoc that usually accompanied them, not to mention the parking problems!
So, there I was, just sitting there on a sand dune, minding my own business and feeling kind of small as compared to the vast ocean stretching out for untold miles before me, when I began to feel as though I was not blending in as well as I had hoped. My whole purpose for being there on that beach at that particular time of day, was to attain some solitude to begin with, but I suppose I was not feeling as invisible to the world as I was actually hoping for at that moment. It could be very comforting at times to feel unnoticed. Although, I was feeling as if I were at one with my surroundings, like maybe my existence did mean something after all in a small, inobvious way. However, I was to find that I could not go totally unnoticed, and if I may say so, I am glad that I failed in my attempt to be so.
I can still picture the scene in my mind's eye, staring off into a sea of sparkles that glittered off of the ocean's surface for miles , with cloud puffs of white sea foam dissipating along the beach and blue waves for as far as the eye could see, with a bit of sea green thrown in here and there for balance. Small groups of late day sunbathers clamoured about the beach, trying to absorb the last rays of sun for the day, or throwing Frisbees. The local surfers were out doing there thing, and the sounds of the seagulls fighting for space seemed loud in my ears, but most of all, I remember the sounds of the happy children. Seeing these children interacting with their families and being in harmony with one another and nature, was, and still is, a wonderful sight! I can remember watching them play in the surf together, perhaps they were all there together for the very first time, the looks on their faces usually said it all. The joy and excitement of a child playing on the ocean's edge is unmistakable, unforgettable. I can happily recall playing there with my older sister Janet, the excitement and joy of those days are forever with me in my memories.
I always had my sister Janet along with me during our family vacations, I can not remember a time that she was not there with me. She was my big sister, and my best friend for many years. She and I were very close at this time in our lives and we still are. My older brothers and sisters usually chose to not come along, and just stayed at home to take advantage of having the house to themselves, for which I do not blame them in the least. Janet often had to fend for me when my parents were not around, as they were commonly out drinking somewhere along the boardwalk, and that was most of the time, or so it seemed. We got "some" time from my parents during the day, breakfast if you were awake yet, a quick trip to the beach, or a lazy morning or mid afternoon around the pool that was at our hotel, then it was off to the bars of south Jersey for what remained of the day, late into the night. My stepmother would make sure that we had what we needed for the day though, and always left a list with my sister of where they might have been found during the night in case of an emergency. I do not recall much interaction with them in those days, we always seemed to be taking care of ourselves. We stayed at a motor hotel, which I believe was owned by a friend of my parents, I remember him as Frank. My father and stepmother spent at least three or four weeks per summer down at the shore, and we usually got to go one or sometimes maybe for two of those weeks. We always stayed at the Golden Nugget Hotel on Ocean Boulevard. in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. I can reacall a lot of memories there, most of them happily spent with my sister, when we were not fighting, as kids of our ages usually did. I could be very diffacult to deal with at times, and we had our share of arguments. I just happened to be alone on the beach this particular day, I would have to say normally that Janet was with me everywhere I went in those days, but this time I just happened to be by myself.
I was just sitting there in the sand minding my own business, all of 15 years old, pudgey, gawky and trying way too hard to look cool. I was at that age when girls are forefront in one's mind, and I was no different. I was just trying to look cool and take in the sights, when this child, who could not have been more than 7 years old comes walking up to me. A little boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a pair of blue shorts, that were obviously 10 times to large for him, and a yellow and white striped long sleeve T-shirt. The sleeves were too long and hanging over the tips of his fingers, of course. He stopped and looked at me and said "Hi, my name is Michael!". I replied, "Hi Michael, my name is Louie!" and extend my hand for a shake. His eyes lit up like sparklers at the sight of my oncoming hand, and he grabbed it and shook it and he smiled and said "It's really nice to meet you Louie!", with all the enthusiasm of a 7 year old. He asked me if I lived here or was I just visiting like himself? I told him that I was just visiting, and he told me how "cool" it would be if he could live at the shore. I remember I laughed when he said that. What a cute kid he was, he definitely had control of the conversation right from the get go.
We sat in the sand and talked for awhile, as he told me about his family, and his brother and sister who could not be there with him right now. Oh how he missed them he told me, "I wish they could be here with me now" he said with a sad smile on his face. "I think you would really like them too"! I felt for this child for some reason, I really liked him. He radiated an energy that was very pleasant, very comfortable, yet he had an unusal aura about him, he looked pale and a little sick, but his eyes were bright and full of life. He continued on and told me about his mom and dad who were there with him, "See, right over there" he said as he pointed down the beach and waved at them. I saw his parents standing there, looking at us, and smiling quietly. I believe they saw that there was no harm in our sitting there talking, so they simply waved back and allowed him to speak with me He continued on and told me of his house, his friends and his first year in school. He told me of his dog Rocky, his pet fish with no name and his best friend Fred. He said Fred walked kind of funny, but he was his best friend and he loved him none the less. Ahhh, to see through the eyes of a child again. I believe it would do the world a lot of good!
Michael and I spent the better half of an hour talking on the beach that day. A chance meeting of two kids wandering around in their own little seperate worlds, like two souls passing in the breeze. Shortly thereafter Michael's Mom and Dad came walking up. Michael excitedly introduced us, and said to them, "This is my new friend Louie, Mom and Dad, I think he is pretty cool"! And a smile beamed on his face from ear to ear! We exchanged greetings and a smile, and then they announced it was time for them to leave. Michael just looked at me sadly, and stuck his little hand out to me, and with a smile from nowhere stated, "I sure am glad I got to meet you Louie, I like making new friends". I said, "Likewise, and I hope we run into each other again someday Michael " and shook his little hand again, not realizing at that time that that would never occur again, not in this lifetime anyway. Michael just smiled at me, and took his father's hand. Michael's father smiled and nodded politely, then he and Michael began to walk up the beach towards the exit together, hand in hand.
Michael's Mom smiled at me approvingly. I looked into her eyes and she seemed to have the look of a much older women then the twenty some-odd years she portrayed, maybe 28 or 29. But in her eyes I could see a woman much older than that. She began by saying Michael was a very special, very loving child. She told me he had just turned 7 some weeks prior, and had just finished his first year of school. I smiled and told her that we had disscussed that earlier, and I also told her that I knew about Fred, the funny walking friend. An embarrassed smile broke out on her face, and tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She said "I want to thank you very much for spending some time with Michael today. It was very kind of you and I could see that Michael just loved talking to you". It was now my turn for an embarrassed smile, and I assured her that it was no problem. She then went on to explain that his brother and sister could not be there with him on this particular trip and that he had been kind of lonely. She said that they did not have the money to bring the others, and seeing as this was probably Michael's last trip to the shore, his siblings agreed that they would stay behind. What this woman was trying to tell me was not sinking in yet.
I guess the quizzical look on my face spoke something to her, and she continued, "Michael is very sick, he has leukemia, and we don't expect that he is going to be with us much longer. He was doing all right for almost 2 years now, but he has begun to come out of remission, and that is why he might have looked a little thin and pale". I did not know what to say. I was 15, and odds were if I opened my mouth something stupid was going to come out, so I just looked at this sad lady, this sad mother, and listened to her. As this was the summer of 1980, I don't believe that they had a variety of treatments for this ailment yet, nor currently, but she told me that this was the reason for this probably being his last visit to the shore. I could begin to feel myself shake a little bit, as Michael never mentioned once that he was sick, he just wanted to be a normal kid for a little while I suppose.
We sat in a comfortable quiet for a moment. I looked up on the boardwalk and saw Michael and his father standing by the entrance gate, still hand in hand, waiting for Mom. Michael smiled and waved again, I waved back. The woman thanked me once again for my time, then reached over with her right hand and grabbed mine, gave me a little peck on the cheek and said "God bless you Louie", then with eyes full of tears, she walked off to meet Michael and his father. I watched her get to the gate, then they all three looked back my way one more time with a wave and a smile, and then dissapeared into the ever growing swirl of people up on the boardwalk.
I readjusted myself in the sand, hoping to find a comfortable position. I leaned back on my elbow, still trying to maintain an air of coolness, as I watched the shadows cast over the beach and waves, from the setting sun behind me, grow larger. The last flickers of heat danced across the sand, as a three quarter full moon hung lazily in the horizon in the sky above the never ending ocean before me. I felt even smaller now, and my heart went out to poor little Michael, how small he must have felt. I tried to absorb what had just transpired in the last hour or so, and as the sun set behind me for the night, I picked myself up and joined the masses of people gathered up on the boardwalk.
It is now 20 years later, almost to the day, that I met Michael. The summer days are rolling nearest coastline. I am not sure if the word "stranded" is appropriate here or not, but I know I am no longer that 15 year old sitting on a sand dune at the Jersey shore. I have accumulated many problems since those long lazy days of my youth. I rely heavily now on memories of that youth to get me through the present, and into the future. They seem like better times, my teenage years, when it seemed as though I had more control of my life than when I was a child, but not yet faced with the burdens of responsibilities for one's self, one's actions or another life.
I can't help but to think of that little 7 year old boy in my current troubles in life. The strength and courage he showed me that day was, and is still, amazing to me. His life seemed so full, and yet was so short. I have heard nothing of Michael since the day we met, and I am sure due to his illness that he is no longer with us, in the physical sense of course. I can't help believing that this little boy, this awesome energy that was a child in life, was dispersed amongst the universe, and sent back to us all, maybe as a smile, or the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, or a sudden sense of feeling good, the kind that comes and leaves just as fast. That could have been Michael sharing with each of us one final time, in his own way.
Louis Jay Weinberg
Copyright: 1980-2002
Saturday, September 09, 2000
Copyright: 1997-2002 Pearl,M.S.