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Christine Melton

How do we know if we are lost?

At forty-eight he still had not found that one woman he’d longed for all his life.  That one woman who would share his love of life, golf, native American lore and…John Denver.  He had been in a five-year relationship with a woman he’d known in high school.  They met at a reunion and rekindled their friendship.  The feelings between them were lopsided with little in common and he fell into despair of his bland existence.

So, in a desperate attempt to turn the tide of his unhappiness he had travelled to New Mexico to visit El Santuario de Chimayo. In the small room to the left of the chapel, the walls were covered with expressions of thanks for the cures of ailments and hopes realized.  Discarded canes, braces and wheelchairs were considered proof of the miracles of El Santuario.  He was hoping for his own miracle that his true soulmate would soon appear.  With a prayer, he scraped a bit of the dirt from the hole in which held the miracle and placed it into the metal box he’d brought. In that small thimble full of dust held his deepest desire.  He returned to his home and placed it on the mantel.

A year and a half later he began attending a church.  And there SHE was. He felt an immediate connection to her.  He fell in love. But she was very married.  Her husband was the president of the church board and very popular.  She was a pillar in the community.  It got complicated. He became a church board member as well.  She became good friends with his girlfriend.  They saw a lot of each other through their social events and all four became good friends.  People started taking note of the bountiful energy created when the two of them were together. It was becoming obvious to everyone. There was just something special about their connection. The light in the room got brighter.  People smiled a lot with them.

Then one moonless evening, at a church outing, the El Santuario miracle made itself known. In a moment when they were alone, SHE realized she was in love with HIM.  He declared he’d been in love with her for years.  And in those precious moments, their lives were changed forever.  It was an enlightening time for awhile for the members of that church. Some people had a difficult time with it all.  Here were 4 very visible congregants rearranging their lives.  With difficult decisions made, a year later 125 church members celebrated their marriage and witnessed the miracle playing itself out on their stage.

In a couple of years, they moved to the country.  It was a beautiful 30-acre parklike setting with two houses.  The perfect place for the retreat center she wanted to start.  He saw the specific spot for his Native American medicine wheel and envisioned future ceremonies. They went full throttle into their plans. Life was good.

Then one day in early spring news was given he had been diagnosed with a rare cancer that could not be cured. They saw their hopeful aspirations begin to deteriorate and life became a struggle. The treatments were worse than the cancer, and his once healthy, fit body was disappearing. He felt like he was losing himself.

He rested his right arm on the metal pad on the chair that had become his home – the wheelchair where he sat to ponder the rest of his days.  He stared out at the soon to be frozen lake. Silent. No words could he utter to explain how lost he felt.  Nowhere to go forward, too painful to look back.  He was coming to the end.  He knew it but hope still hung around his thoughts even though they were dissipating like the fog that rose from the lake each morning. He was stuck in a body that could no longer support his dreams of happiness with the woman he loved so much.  He had so much to live for; so much more to do.  Now he knew there would be no more backpacking together, driving down the country roads from small town to small town, singing John Denver songs till even John Denver would have said STOP.

He knew that not even a trip to El Santurio would fix this.   

One day she came to him and asked, “Are you dying?  Because you aren’t living either.”  It was a harsh question but one that had to be asked.  She continued, “If you want to live, then give it everything you’ve got.  Pull out all the stops.  And if you want to die, then give it everything you’ve got. Die with the same gusto in which you lived.”   

He continued staring out the window.  It was about noon and the diamonds were dancing on the lake water, glistening like stars.  He did not respond.  The question just hung in the air.  He knew he was dying.  He was done with anger.  He felt no joy.  Tears didn’t even come anymore.  He felt numb.  And he felt truly lost.


She sat in the swirling warm water of the hot tub; her evening solace after all the caregivers and friends were gone.  She was alone then. The strength to make it through the horrors of each day would melt away and she would wonder what life was going to be without him.  Where would she go?  Would she continue on with the retreat?  Would she leave this beautiful, peaceful land she had grown to love and head back to the city and begin another new life.  It had been a blissful six years full of events that create strong memories with single moments that hang forever in the mind. And more than anything she did not want that miraculous life to end. Now both their dreams were crumbling and neither of them knew what to do. They were both lost.


A sturdy log raft was built with four poles on each corner for pall bearers.  It was a cold, blustery November. As the group circled the Medicine wheel firepit, each friend placed into the basket on top of the raft an item that reminded them of their cherished friend.  The basket also contained aspects of his life.  A doctorate hood.  A mini pipe used for ceremonies.  A rock because he’d taught they were alive – as was everything alive.  But, now not him.  Or was he? Was he no longer lost?  Alive in a new way?


The raft was carried to the edge of the lake and dowsed with gasoline.  With a full-throttled shove, the pallbearers sent it into the middle of the lake.  As the flaming arrow pierced the basket, it burst into flames. Joyous hurrahs were heard from the friends standing at the bank. He was sent on his way and hopefully no longer lost. 

As for her, she remained there to continue the work her husband had helped her begin.  Over the next few years, she found her peace in knowing he was always around her, guiding and helping her.  Finally, one day, she realized she, too, was no longer lost.  She was alive in a new way.


Copyright 2023, Christine Melton All Rights Reserved


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FOUR SEASONS A story by Christine Melton Sally tried very hard to put on a happy face and act like it was just another Thanksgiving. Everyone felt sad, but no one wanted to say those words “Dad’s not here”. He’d only been gone six months. It felt wrong. It was too soon to be celebrating – anything. But here they were trying to be ‘normal’ and carry on their yearly tradition. Sally and her husband had 4 children – 2 girls, 2 boys. As with about every family, they were each as different as the seasons. Seasons. They had said “Four seasons”. She’d heard that so many times during the funeral. Sally, “It will take four seasons and then you’ll begin making new memories”. She didn’t want NEW memories; she wanted the old ones back. Sally was trying hard to do everything the same. Turkey cooked by her, stuffing on the side. And that stuffing couldn’t be anything new. Always the same. Seasoned day-old bread with homemade chicken broth. No fancy oysters, cranberries or nuts in this recipe. There would be a revolt! One would think the turkey was the star of the meal. Not in this family. A tradition passed down from many generations was…. the gravy! Oh, the gravy! It was a careful process to create the best gravy. After the turkey was roasted, the precious bird was plattered to rest, and the roasting pan was gently heated on the stovetop, while being watched carefully so all those little bits could render the fond to make the richest, tastiest gravy of all time. But that wasn’t the special ingredient. THAT unique element was the “potato water”. The potatoes for mashing were cooked and then carefully drained through a colander and the precious juice – the potato water – was set aside. It was the base liquid that added a layer of flavor to the gravy that made it SO good and was the secret ingredient in Sally’s family recipe. It was a family ritual. An honored tradition. And it MADE the gravy. There was excitement coming from the other room when the youngest daughter, Lisa, introduced her new beau. For Lisa, dating was like a career. She had developed a criterion of qualities she desired in a partner that were neatly organized in her mind. So, when she was bringing him home for Thanksgiving dinner, it meant more than a casual meal. Lisa thought this was a good time to introduce him to meet the family. Breaking into this family tradition was a big deal. The family had been through this once before when the oldest daughter, Georgia, had brought home her love – who became her husband two years ago. You’d have to be brave to step foot into this group. And particularly on THIS Thanksgiving, with so much at stake for keeping the atmosphere light and happy in spite of the sadness. Georgia’s husband was glad to have a new male be the butt end of the family jokes and questions. Lisa’s new beau’s name was Matt. Naturally, he was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Matt took the needling and back-slapping from Sam, the brother-in-law, and older sister with questions of “what were his intentions towards Lisa”. Matt had good manners and Sally liked that. He said ‘Yes, ma’am” and “please and thank you”. He seemed genuine. And his offer to help added to the list of things Sally liked about him. The youngest of the family was Robert. He was ten and the baby who’d been a surprise. Having grown up with two older sisters he was constantly, and irritatingly teased. He didn’t quite understand “girls”. They had mysteries about them he often struggled to comprehend. They’d giggle together with private secrets. They kept strange boxes of things they called ‘sanitary napkins’ in their drawers. He didn’t know what was so special about them. Regular napkins seemed fine to him. They’d bribe him to go to the store for these special napkins. He thought it odd to buy those special items once a month, but his sisters paid him well to run their errands. He was given the task that night of setting the table. He’d watched his sisters before so he knew the drill and prided himself that he knew where the silverware should be placed. He really wanted to impress his family with this new job. He considered how special the day was and thought he knew exactly what would make it even more historic. He quietly slipped into his sister’s room and snagged one of the special napkin boxes. And while everyone else was in the kitchen watching the meal come together, he carefully and delicately placed one special napkin under the fork by each plate. He excitedly thought, “This will make Mom so happy!” Meanwhile in the kitchen, the rest of the group was huddled around sipping on assorted wines and an array of appetizers. It seemed no one had imagination as the nibbles were always the same. Lisa brought a bowl of guacamole that was never large enough to feed everyone but with enough chips to last till next holiday. Georgia brought something called hummus that no one ever ate. It was her futile attempt to help everyone get healthy. No one really cared. In strolled the last of the siblings. Richard was always last. And always empty handed. No wine. No appetizer. Nothing to share. He was always odd man out. Quiet and reserved. During family gatherings he was in the other room on his phone, or out for a walk. He was like Rudolph who never joined in the reindeer games. Second oldest, he’d had a really hard time when his father passed away unexpectedly. His dad always seemed to “get” him. And now he was gone. This thanksgiving was particularly difficult as he had some important news to give the family and there was no good time to give it. It had to happen tonight. The beautiful traditional meal was coming together. They were all hungry. Each family member was given a final task to prepare for the meal’s presentation. Georgia and her husband were to carve the turkey. Robert had already set the table in the other room. Lisa tended to warm the sweet potato and green bean casseroles. Mom was pulling out of the refrigerator the freshly made cranberry sauce and gelatin salad. Also tradition. And last was finishing the gravy. The best part of the meal. Matt was asked to drain the potato water. It was the toughest, most important job as the pot was big, hot and precarious holding the precious liquid. Suddenly, with shock and horror, it was realized that Matt, the new guy, had thrown out the potato water! Into the sink it went. All hell broke loose. Mom’s mouth gaped, Lisa crumbled in total embarrassment, Georgia shrieked while her husband bent over in hysterical laughter. Robert came running from the other room to catch the drama and Richard stood at the doorway slowly shaking his head. Matt turned white. He had no idea what had just happened. Matt knew this was his defining moment with this family for the rest of his life. In the midst of the kitchen drama, they barely heard the front door fly open. Her perfume wafted into the room before her. Aunt Mary had arrived. She had more airs than heirs, so everyone put up with her flamboyant personality and style. She wore a bright red turban hat that matched her overdone lipstick. With her flowing patterned cape, she looked like a clown. “Hello my darlings!”, she exclaimed. It was not an endearing term as everyone was a darling to Aunt Mary. She always desired to be the center of attention. All 4 siblings gaped at Sally. “Mom, you didn’t!” Well, Sally said, “She IS your father’s aunt and under the circumstances…”. Her voice trailed off as Aunt Mary began her recital of her most recent adventures and unabashed extravagant lifestyle. The potato water incident had almost vanished with her appearance. Matt felt a slight relief. For this reason, he would always hold a special gratitude for Aunt Mary. Richard fidgeted with the tin foil from the turkey. He wanted to give his news. This was the time he’d gone over and over in his mind. He had NOT planned on Aunt Mary. So, he just blurted it out. “I’m getting married.” Dead silence hit the room. All eyes turned to Richard. The room was a swirl of confusion. First the potato water, next Aunt Mary and now Richard. They all just looked at each other. What could possibly come next? Well, it was now or never, Richard thought. He then said, “My bride will be here in a few minutes. I thought I’d give you all a few minutes to adjust to this news”. Richard had never brought any of his dates to meet the family. As a matter of fact, no one even knew Richard had ANY dates. So, this was a baffling surprise. What happened next was more memorable than the potato water accident. The doorbell rang. As he ran to the door his family eagerly trailed behind him. Upon opening the door, bright flashes of light hit all their bewildered faces. A dozen Papparazzi cameras captured the first images of their famous celebrity’s mystery flame. They were nearly blinded by the light. Completely engulfed in the moment, the dazed family parted like the seas to let Richard’s soon-to-be bride elegantly stroll into the room while the camera crew followed in tow to take in the entire scene. And there she was. Bigger than life. Richard’s fiancé. It was a surreal moment as they all knew their lives were ultimately changed. To have a celebrity in your family was not normal. And this, already, was no normal Thanksgiving. Sally stood there in her printed apron, thinking she had entered the Twilight Zone and wondered who this man was with this beautiful woman. In that moment her feelings were mixed with maternal pride that he had brought his gorgeous woman to Thanksgiving and irritation that he had dropped his news this way. Aunt Mary’s face was lit up like an LED bulb. She was so stunned and excited to be in celebrity company she almost fainted. She was already envisioning becoming Richard’s fiance’s best friend. Sam and Matt were drooling like teenagers, and the two sisters, completely star-struck, were unable to speak. Robert jumped around like a ten-year-old with no idea what was going on. Everything was a flutter. No one expected THIS from Richard. It was so unlike him. But then, they didn’t really know Richard, did they? Did their dad? Finally, with all the introductions made and the excitement fading, someone asked “What about the gravy?” Matt melted into the wall. Sally said she could fix it and into the kitchen they all headed to bring the food to the table. As the meal was brought in and each found their respective chair, they looked at the table - perfectly set by Robert – who was now beaming. It was then they all noticed the other thing that made this Thanksgiving so special. The napkins. One more click of the camera and the perfect scene was captured forever in pictures. It was clear that no other season could ever top this one. There would be no need for three more. The End. Copyright 2023 Christine Melton All Rights Reserved
By Christine Melton 13 Dec, 2023
Our lives are filled with stories. These are a few of my stories I've written over the years....and will continue to keep adding more. Enjoy! 
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