Saturday, July 25, 2026

What’s real and what isn’t? You may discover the answer in a very unimaginable way.

 

As you age, your life may change dramatically, and a question plagues your mind, . . .

 

 

Since When?

 

     Time marches on. Getting older may not unfold in a way you wanted it to. But it happens. And, in doing so, as lifelong friends, you may not always see eye to eye. That autumn night, sitting on my living room couch, things took a turn for the . . .

     “Since when did you have all the right answers?” I asked Mona, with a bit of anger in my voice.

     “Forever, she stated emphatically. Does that come as a surprise to you?”

     “We’ve known each other since we were five years old. And you’ve followed my lead, at times.”

     “Yeah, ‘Princess Lisa,’ once, when we were six. It was Halloween. We’d just gotten home from going trick or treating. And you knew I liked vanilla ice cream.”

     “You’re impossible, Mona. I don’t know how I’ve put up with you all these years.”

     “Lisa, you wouldn’t have reached your twenty-fifth or even your sixty-fifth birthday, if it wasn’t for me.”

     “And, Mona, you wouldn’t have reached yours, if it wasn’t for me. Remember . . .”

     “Let’s stop this crap and move on, Lisa.”

     “Move on? Move on where, Mona?”

     “See, once again, I’ve got to come up with all the answers.”

     “I hear music. It seems to be coming from above,” Lisa said softly.

     “Above? All music flows through the air, Lisa. But I don’t hear anything.”

     “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s a wonderful melody. Like angels singing.”

     Mona looked at me, as if I’d been dropped from outer space. If looks could kill, I’d be lying in the middle of a road somewhere. My mind wandered, and then . . .

     “Lisa, you’re nutty as a fruitcake.”

     “And Mona, you’re a muffin that hasn’t risen. Totally deflated.”

     “This has got to stop.”

     “What? The beautiful music?”

     “There you go again with the music, Lisa. It doesn’t exist. It’s all in your head.”

     “Are the voices in my head, too, Mona?”

     “Voices? Oh, my, I can hear them.”

     “Guess we’re both ready for the loony bin, my friend.”

     Applause resonated through the room. I stood with Mona, hand in hand, in front of the classroom and bowed.

     Mrs. Ambrose smiled. “Ladies, that was a wonderful skit about getting old and facing the possibility of losing some brain power. I just turned sixty and I’m a bit uneasy about what comes next.

     “Okay girls, please turn off the music. It worked for the performance, but we don’t need it now.”

     Sitting in the front row, Jonathan had a perplexed look on his face, as he asked, “What music?”

 

 

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