Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column - January 28, 2022

Dear Reader,

Today our guest writer is Sandra Rafter, one of the 2021 Honorable Mentions from my Write a Dear Reader Contest. The quality of writing in the 2021 Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Thank you so much Sandra for sharing your work with us.

I've been afraid in my life.

As a youngster, Roy Rogers jerked his head back just in time. The bullet with his name shattered the rock behind him and tiny stone pellets almost seemed to split into my cheek.

All of us in 3rd grade crouched on the cold marble floor at school waiting for the bomb to explode over our heads. Ten of us might die staring at the picture of Lincoln and some of us would live for the next Russian death drill.

At quarter moon, a skeleton reached its arms from under the bed and grey bone claw fingers pulled at my sheet until I opened my eyes and screamed and screamed.

We practiced dance steps with the boys in gym class. Boys chose girls as partners for the real dance. Then, there were two girls left, and I was last. I was alone. I hurt.

There was that awful day when the road was icy when I braked, and the car slid without my steering toward the white concrete barriers no longer side of the road but floating ever so slowly over the windshield missing me and the glass but crushing my right fender and tire.

I watched submarine movies--John Wayne, Cary Grant, Glen Ford--sailor heroes, with rushing water and fire from a depth charge around them and their breath faint. My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, the sea of disease enclosed her. I gasped along with her raspy cough.

I lived my worries and hurts and knew them like Christmas presents I didn't want but accepted stoically, sometimes, with a brave smile.

I've learned to tamp down the fire of my fears, go along, try not to be too selfish. But, I saw a hermit's cabin in a museum. Small, tight, no extras, but none needed--a place to yearn for these days of pandemic. Outside my house I often seem to be picking daisies.

This petal you live, this petal you die, you live, you die, live, die.

Never so much before as this time in my life, I recede inside myself, aware I can picture winning four million in the lottery but cannot face the terrible truth and loneliness of four million Covid deaths.

Still, I believe this, we may sigh, but survive--fear vanquished, hands entwined, eye to eye, stride by stride, you and I. We hold our hands forever in hope with light near and far. I have been frightened, have hidden, and cried. But, we persevere. We live both silent and bold. Isn't hope trusting beyond ourselves?

-- Sandra Rafter
Honorable Mention, 2021 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 27, 2022

Dear Reader,

When I was a kid I was a train watcher. My Grandpa and Grandma Tindell had a trailer house parked on a lot in a little fishing community, snuggled in alongside the Mississippi River. At the
top of the hill was the world, and at the bottom was a fisherperson's paradise. Serious fisherpeople (is that the politically correct word these days?) took up summer residence there.

The fishing was great, but I fell in love with the trains. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, every couple of hours a train with over 100 cars would roll on by. I liked to get as close to the trains as I could, but in order to do that, I had to cross rattler country. The train tracks were high up on a ridge. Huge rocks had been dumped on the hill that led up to the tracks and rattlesnakes lived there. Hundreds of rattlesnakes.

I didn't mind walking by a rattler sunning himself on top of a rock. It was the ones that might be hiding down in between the rocks that always worried me. But the only way to feel the "whoosh" of the cars passing by, and to make sure that the engineer saw me waving--then he'd always tip his hat and blow the whistle--was to take the risk and climb the hill.

There aren't too many trains for me to watch anymore. But there are a lot of exciting opportunities that come my way every day, and if I want to feel the "whoosh" and hear that whistle blowin', I've got to take the risk and start climbing the hill.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise this title deserves your attention:

(FICTION)
MAN FOR ME by Laurelin Paige

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 26, 2022

Dear Reader,

In Monday's "Three is the magic number!" column I wrote about how my husband and I can never remember more than three items when we go to the market, so we always need to make a list.

Apparently we're not the only ones. Readers shared...

"Suzanne, I live off of lists. I figure, if it is on a list then I don't have to keep it in my head anymore and there is already way too much up there!" -- Tess C., Public Services Librarian, Lane Public Library

"Well that made me laugh! It reminds me of the saying, 'of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.' Sometimes I'm very good at remembering, almost too good, while at other times you would think my memory was completely gone.

While working on a project one day, I was taking photos with my phone. I received a call and answered it. While talking with the caller I continued to stage and fine tune the items for my photo. Looking at it while the caller and I continued our conversation, I thought it looked perfect and was ready to take the picture. I was so flustered though as I was completely unable to find my phone to take the picture. I'm sure you can imagine how ridiculous I felt when I finally realized I was holding my phone in my hand and talking on it! Thanks for sharing your stories," -- Karla N.

Readers also emailed about my BB-damaged window, now newly decorated...

"So, so LOVE the creative way this window was fixed! All of us need to look outside the box for creative solutions more often. What fun we would discover! Thank you for sharing, love to read with you." -- Jolaine S.

"Suzanne, your window is gorgeous, and it is a statement to taking something unsightly and making it beautiful! Thanks for sharing!" -- Brenda K. Miller, Director, New Madison Public Library

"Just read about your window. I'm the same way about things. Projects that need to be fixed or restored sit for years before I do something. Then I discover it didn't take much money, and like you, I'm thrilled with the results. I wonder why I waited so long. Your window is beautiful. What a great idea. How happy it made both you and the window. Enjoy your new view." -- Sara R.

"Suzanne, the window looks awesome. What a great idea. Love reading you every day. Thanks for brightening my day." -- Patti

If you missed my new painted window column and photos, click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

* Congratulations to the winners of Must Love Books by Guest Author Shauna Robinson: Alexandria H., Sandy M. and Linda C.

AUTHORBUZZ: Discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 25, 2022

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author...

Gia de Cadenet is a Black American expat who made her childhood dream of living in France come true in 2006 when she moved to Paris for her master's degree. She's a business school professor and former translator and editor with UNESCO.

Her debut, Getting His Game Back was described by Publisher's Weekly as "a thoroughly satisfying love story with a big, beating heart."

You can reach out to Gia, she would love to hear from you. Send Gia a note via https://giadecadenet.com/contact/

When I moved to Paris in 2006, I quickly learned that the City of Light is exactly as glamorous as I'd imagined. I taught English at an agency that worked with the great fashion houses of France. I was always a little intimidated when I had to walk into Chanel or Dior to give my lessons, but my students never made me feel bad.

I had a funny, confident student named Noura working for Louis Vuitton on the Champs Elysée. We became fast friends. She was in her mid-twenties, like me, and though she liked her job well enough, the customers really got under her skin sometimes. Having worked retail in the States, I could empathize.

One Saturday, my boyfriend and I were on a leisurely walk and ended up on the Champs. I'd never been in a Louis Vuitton but, feeling bold, I suggested we pop in to say hi to Noura.

The place was packed. It was as much an art gallery as anything else. We walked around, gawking at the luxury. Just as I thought to leave, someone called out, "Madame, there you are!"

Madame?

I turned and there was Noura, her eyes wide, smile tight, a few wisps of hair falling from a high bun. She was beside me in a second.

"Hi?" I said.

"Follow me?" she asked, voice tight, linking her arm in mine.

Back ramrod straight, she whisked us past display cases, groups of customers, and two women shooting daggers at her. Ignoring them, she led us into a small room with a window overlooking the Champs Elysée.

Noura's whole demeanor changed as we sat on a brown velour couch embossed with the LV logo.

"I'm so glad you're here. These two petasses have been giving me shit for the past half hour. I cannot take it anymore. You just stay here, yes? Do you want champagne?" she asked.

I looked at my boyfriend. We were severely underdressed for both the room and champagne. "Is it a problem if we're in here?" I asked.

"We can't buy anything."

She waved a hand.

"You're giving me a break. If I'm with a client in here, someone else has to cover the customers on the floor." She smiled and winked at me. "You're a lifesaver."

"Well," I said, "I guess we just have to have some champagne."

When Noura returned with two full glasses and a mischievous grin, I knew that nothing in Paris was out of my reach. Not even the Louis Vuitton VIP room!

-- Gia de Cadenet
Drop Gia a note via https://giadecadenet.com/contact/

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 24, 2022

Dear Reader,

Three is the magic number.

If my husband or I are going to the market, and we need to buy more than three items, we have to make a list. Two grown, intelligent adults ought to be able to remember four or five grocery items without writing them down. But nevertheless...

Just last week my husband decided to break through the "big three." His idea was to walk through the store parking lot, repeating under his breath, the five items we needed: Rice, cheese, broccoli, paper towels, and extra large eggs.

You may think people would have thought he was a bit nuts, chanting his grocery list as he walked through the parking lot. His only saving grace from people being concerned for his sanity, is that we live in Sarasota, Florida. It's a city filled with retired people and snowbirds who spend the winter here to get away from the cold up north. People drive around with their car's turn signal on (but they never turn), and even when my husband and I were shopping in a furniture store and my 89 year old father-in-law fell asleep in one of the comfy recliners, the clerk told us to let "Dad" sleep and he'd call us when he woke up. So if folks observe weird behavior, but the person is still talking, walking and breathing, they chalk it up to age. Nothing to get excited about, after all, they're aging every day, too.

The other day, when my husband and I were driving to the store to buy three items (that I can't think of at the moment), I reminded him that we also needed to mail a letter I brought with us, since the post office was right across the street.

Jokingly my husband said, "How much do you bet we'll forget to mail the letter?"

"Not to worry," I told him. "I'm actually going to hold the letter in my hand until you get back from the store." After a few minutes, feeling a little ridiculous, I decided to set the letter in my lap. But then I felt nervous. 'What if I forgot the letter was in my lap, when I got out of the car? I might find it next week, tucked alongside the seat in the car.' So I started fanning myself with the letter. An "active" letter surely will end up in the mailbox across the street. So there I sat in the passenger seat of our car, waving a letter back and forth. I think people assumed I was having hot flashes. But apparently I have more hot flashes than I realize, because waving the letter back and forth in front of my face must not have seemed strange to me or my husband--because I was still waving the letter back and forth when we pulled into our driveway.

So what's the lesson in all of this? One, two, three, four, five items (my husband's parking lot chanting didn't work)...we're always going to make a list.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

MAN FOR ME (FICTION) by Laurelin Paige

I've seen it happen--one friend's deeply smitten, the other's oblivious (or pretending to be). Then one day, something changes, and BAM! The relationship is suddenly something more for both of them. That led me to Eden and Brett and a new novella set in my Men in Charge world about a woman who realizes she wants more from her best friend, just when he's finally got his eye on someone else.

I'm giving away five copies, to enter the drawing, click on the link to Authorbuzz and the book jacket to enter or email: 1001DarkNights@gmail.com

Go to AUTHORBUZZ click on MAN FOR ME to read more and to email author Laurelin Paige, you'll get a reply.
_________________________________________________________________

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 21, 2022

Dear Reader,

I always enjoy hearing from readers. Book club reader, Sue C., shared this Chinese parable with me...

"Suzanne, perhaps you have seen this story. There is a Chinese story "Good luck Bad luck Who knows?" of an old farmer who had an old horse for tilling his fields.

One day the horse escaped into the hills and, when all the farmer's neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, 'Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?'

A week later the horse returned with a herd of wild horses from the hills and this time the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, 'Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?'

Then, when the farmer's son attempted to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this was very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, 'Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?'

Some weeks later the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmer's son with his broken leg, they let him off. Now was that good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?

I am going to try and stop complaining when stuck in a long line at the grocery store or in a bad traffic jam. Who knows--it might be good luck."

The parable reminded me of a column I wrote about my own good news/bad news experience...

Good news; bad news. Labeling news makes for an exhausting day. I'm feeling successful at 9:00 in the morning, but later that afternoon I feel pathetic. You'd swear I just saw myself on the cover of "Loser" magazine.

The good news is no problem. The bad news sets me to worrying--way too much. And many times my initial label wasn't accurate in the first place, so I spent hours--sometimes days--fretting about the wrong thing. The bad news turned out to be good, and the good news--well, that was the bad news.

A few weeks ago someone sent me an email, and I decided it was definitely bad news. I worried myself sick about an upcoming project. But in the end, people were thanking me and telling me what a great job I'd done. What a waste of worry.

Good news; bad news. From now on I'm labeling all of my news "generic" until I see how it all shakes out.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 19, 2022

Dear Reader,

Today our guest writer is Dorie Furman, one of 2021 Honorable Mentions from my Write a DearReader Contest. Thank you so much Dorie for sharing your story with us.

The Mistake That Turned Into a Blessing

Mistakes have always seemed to find me. When I bought an electronic air cleaner to attach to the furnace, I paid extra for a remote button to put on the kitchen wall because the furnace was in the crawl space. The electrician installed it in the crawl space. The manufacturer's engineer had to reinstall it in the kitchen.

When I bought new shoes on a lunch hour, I opened the box to show co-workers. Out came two left shoes. When the astronauts were moon landing, I rushed to the department store to buy a TV, got home, opened the box and there in all its splendor was a TV with the picture installed upside down. We rushed to my parents' house. We didn't want to stand on our heads watching the moon landing.

Then one day it happened. The good mistake of my life that made up for all the bad ones. We had recently lost our Beagle. I found a rescue dog online. I wanted a mature dog that I wouldn't have to potty train. They brought out a little Cocker Spaniel whose fur was so matted that I couldn't tell which end was which. He's 8 years old, they said. Since he was a purebred, I asked why he wasn't on the preferred list. They said he was an old dog. Nobody wanted him. He was pathetic, but I took him home.

My niece was visiting, and the dog I named JoJo, was jumping everywhere. That dog, she said, is not 8 years old. I took him to my vet, who said the shelter was mistaken. He's a puppy! I didn't have the heart to send him back.

When I took him to the groomer, he came out looking like new. He was beautiful with soft velvety fur. The shelter's paperwork said he was adopted and returned three times. I soon found out why. He would run to my bedroom, climb on my bed and scream. He screamed at the groomer but I thought he was just scared. He screamed every day for 14 years. He scared the neighbors to death, until I convinced them he was just venting. Everyone got used to hearing him. He had the sweetest nature and loved everyone. His special thing was kissing everyone on the nose.

JoJo loved bones. His collection grew to 50 bones. Every day he picked one, took it to the yard, hid it in bushes and took the one from the day before back inside. I never heard him growl in all the years I had him. He slept on my bed until his legs could no longer lift him. He had moods. In one of them, he stayed on a rug under my dining room table. He and I shared Thanksgiving dinner together under the table.

This year was his last. It was heartbreaking watching him grow old and begin failing. He was such a trooper. Even though blind and almost deaf, he found his way through the dog door, and to his dish. He followed me to the computer room where he liked to sit near me while I typed.

JoJo lived to be 16 and I loved every minute of every year he was with me. The shelter's mistake was the happiest mistake of my life and it was worth going through all the bad mistakes, to have him for over 14 of the happiest years of my life, a mistake that turned into a blessing.

-- Dorie Furman
Honorable Mention, 2021 Write a DearReader Contest

* Congratulations to the winners of Why Some Animals Eat Their Young by Guest Author Dallas Louis: Kathy D., Susan G., Susan M., Paula T. and Rebecca V.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 18, 2022

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Shauna Robinson, is originally from San Diego, but she now lives in Virginia with her husband and their sleepy greyhound. Shauna is an introvert at heart--spending most of her time reading, baking, and figuring out the politest way to avoid social interaction. Her debut novel, Must Love Books, was inspired by her time working as an editorial assistant at a publishing company.

If you'd like a chance to win a copy of Must Love Books, email shaunarobinsonbooks@gmail.com to enter the giveaway.

Please welcome author Shauna Robinson...

How much can you trust your favorite recipe?

For years, I had a go-to chocolate cake recipe, but it wasn't until recently that I stopped to consider why it was my favorite. It wasn't as though I'd tried every recipe in the world--I'd just baked a cake one day and decided I liked it enough to continue using that recipe. But how would it fare if I baked several chocolate cakes, all from different recipes, and then held a taste test to determine, once and for all, which was the best?

And so my great chocolate cake experiment was born.

After some research, I selected four different chocolate cake recipes and set about baking all of them in one day. (I did scale these recipes down so that each one produced a few cupcakes rather than an entire cake. I love cake, but the human stomach has its limits.) I then tasted each one to decide my favorite.

The most surprising result? My go-to cake recipe came in last. Its flavor and texture were lacking compared to the other three cupcakes. While my go-to recipe uses all-purpose flour and butter, the winning recipe uses cake flour and oil. It produced a cupcake that was soft, moist, and flavorful. Since making that discovery, I've ditched my go-to recipe and have been using the new one ever since.

The problem is, now I don't trust all the other recipes I once thought I loved. Cookies, brownies, biscuits, breads--how many of these recipes are favorites simply because I don't know any better? How much of my love for these recipes is born out of ignorance?

But there's a wonderful lesson in this discovery: as much as I loved the recipe I knew well, there was something even better right around the corner. Of course, I'm not suggesting that we doom ourselves to discontent and spend forever chasing perfection. But it's a good (and humbling) reminder that we don't always know what we're talking about. I would have sworn that my go-to chocolate cake recipe was the best--until experience told me it wasn't.

It's also comforting to think that if we're ever not quite content with something--a recipe, a book, a job, a city--there may be other alternatives waiting to be discovered. All we need to do is give them a chance.

--Shauna Robinson

If you'd like a chance to win a copy of Must Love Books, email shaunarobinsonbooks@gmail.com to enter the giveaway.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 17, 2022

Dear Reader,

Herman Martin, the 2017 First Place winner in my annual Write a DearReader Contest, wrote to me...

"Suzanne, this email is my way of thanking you for your kind words and inspiration. A couple of years ago [2017] I wrote a piece for your contest, this was before the pandemic. I did not think I had a chance. (It seemed all of my writings were rejected for one reason or another and I was not in a good frame of mind.) I have always told myself as long as someone reads what I write, then I'm okay. No matter if they like the piece or not. WRONG. I do care. Then you happened. You read my contest entry and book club readers read it too, and all I got back was praise and support. I am truly thankful for that.

Then 'it' happened. Corona. Pandemic. Fear. I was staying home not knowing if the sun would come out tomorrow. (Sorry Annie.) I was becoming bored and angry. What could I do?

The first answer that came to me...WRITE.

But when I thought about all the rejections, I did not want to. Then I reread what you had written about me in your introduction about my winning piece. And this is what I did. I wrote. I created. I published. And I want to tell you again. Thank you."

(Suzanne replies:) Herman, I really appreciate it that you let me know that winning the contest, and the words I wrote about you, have made such a difference in your writing experience.

To read Herman's winning entry and my introduction about him, click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Rory is in sixth grade and he still can't say his r's, but that's just the beginning of his troubles. Nancy Tandon's THE WAY I SAY IT is "a touching story about friendship, feelings, and support" (Kirkus), ideal for for ages 10 and up. For a chance to win a free copies, to talk with the authors, and more, see http://www.authorbuzz.com/kidsbuzz.

 

 

 

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - January 14, 2022

Dear Reader,

Congratulations to the winners of the January Chocolate Chip Cookie Giveaway, Danielle M., Heather M., and Kelly P. Your cookies are going out on Monday, so you'll be dunking and munching soon.

Today our guest writer is Victoria Stuppy, one of 2021 Honorable Mentions from my Write a Dear Reader Contest. The quality of writing in the 2021 Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Thank you so much Victoria for sharing your story with us.

I'm not sure who first said travel is exciting and glamorous, but I'm certain they never traveled to the Pacific Rim and back to the U.S. in 10 days. Don't get me wrong, the trip to Hong Kong and onto Thailand was a wonderful experience. My husband and I knew we'd miss the exotic locale and wonderfully sweet people, but there is no place like home when it comes to sleeping in your own bed. And after our non-stop agenda, sleep was fast becoming a precious commodity. The almost four-hour flight back to Hong Kong was mercifully quick and it appeared we'd make our tight connection and be home in time for Mother's Day!

And here's where it all began to go terribly wrong.

Our next flight was delayed by over three hours until nearly one o'clock in the morning. Then four hours into our flight we were awakened by the pilot asking if there were any doctors on board for a medical emergency. About an hour later, the pilot announced that the medical situation had worsened and he would have to turn the plane around and land at Narita airport in Japan. What?! We were nearly halfway to L.A. Okay, perhaps not that close, but I was sleepy and a bit cranky.

Not much to do about the situation short of commandeering the plane and forcing the crew to land at LAX. On to Tokyo. Sadly, the woman was very ill and died just before landing in Japan. While the family had been prepared for weeks that she probably wouldn't make the flight due to congestive heart failure, we felt the shock of their loss and spent time in prayer for her soul and for her family.

Upon landing the plane was swarmed by officials and Japanese police. It appeared that landing a dead body in Tokyo is not something the Japanese Medical Examiner takes lightly and they were not accepting the corpse. So the flight staff had to make some highly unusual arrangements to allow us to fly off the island by encasing one of the passenger seats in numerous sheets of plastic secured with tape, covered the seat with blankets and then with the assistance of four flight attendants, quietly escorted the body back to the seat.

Almost no one on board knew what had transpired save for those of us closest and so as not to alarm all of the passengers, the flight attendants seated the woman in her seat, tucked a blanket up to her chin, balanced her face against a pillow, buckled up her safety belt and then put on the finishing touch--they placed her reading glasses on her face! We were flying this poor woman to the States and we were spending the next eleven hours with a dead body three seats in front of our tray table.

We considered disembarking in Japan, but assumed we wouldn't think anything more about it until the flight attendant came around with the hot moist towels prior to our meal. Imagine our surprise when she stopped at the deceased woman's seat, removed the woman's eyeglasses, wiped her face and then replaced the glasses.

About six hours into the flight, I awoke and I still wonder to this day, did I really see the attendant gently spritzing eucalyptus oil on the body or was I dreaming? The moist towel scene was repeated once again before we landed. It was truly an academy award winning performance by the flight crew.

In the end, it is a lesson for all of us. To the family, it didn't matter where death took place, it was important that life had been lived. And to the few of us that witnessed it, it only reminded us to live and love each and every day.

-- Victoria Stuppy
Honorable Mention, 2021 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise these titles deserves your attention:

(FICTION)
HAUNTED HOUSE by Heather Graham

(FICTION)
THE BAIT by C.W. Gortner and M.J. Rose

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

This month's Penguin Classics book is HOW THE GARCIA GIRLS LOST THEIR ACCENTS, by Julia Alvarez, with a foreword by Elizabeth Acevedo. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.