Welcome back, my fellow travellers. It is a joy to have the pleasure of your company and spending a moment together. I hope your week has gone well and you’ve gotten as much life out of that as possible.
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A Cry For Help
I was settling down to have some ‘me time’ until I had a call from Heathrow Airport from a friend about an hour before their flight was due to take off. They had a phone call from the person who was going to be looking after their place whilst on holiday to say that the place where they had left the key had been broken into. They were frantic with worry not least that their two cats would be left on their own and worried sick that their place may be broken into.
They asked for my help to go to the property and ensure all was safe and secure and, more importantly, that their cats weren’t too traumatised. I assured them I would set out immediately and do whatever was necessary to ensure the cats and their property were secure. They would be out of contact for six hours. I hoped that when they called, I could provide them with an account of what happened and how I handled it.
Top
Weekend Service Is Appalling
Their landlord is a housing association. Their main phone line was closed until Monday morning. It was just after 12:30 on Sunday. I looked at my phone battery level and silently prayed that 34% would be sufficient. I called the landlord, and the voice message informed me an emergency repair service was available at weekends. As I suspected, they weren’t able to offer any assistance. I told the girl I hoped she doesn’t have to go through this trauma with a family member of hers one day. She would be as much help as a chocolate ashtray and hung up with me saying her response was shameful.
Top
An Emergency Locksmith
I thought, ‘Well, you’ll have to find an emergency locksmith willing and able to take the job. Sure it’ll cost a small fortune but so what. It’ll be worth every penny when I can assure my friends all was well. They could relax. I’ve sorted it. Enjoy your holiday.
Investigated By A Neighbour
My friend had shared a suspicion that a neighbour may have been responsible. However, they had no evidence to support that. I got to meet the fellow. I made quite a noise as I spoke with different people, and he came out to find out who I was. He was a bit brusque and unkempt, but I was no oil painting. With my baggy trackie bottoms with goodness knows what stains on them. I’m getting trimmer, so I have to keep pulling them up. I was going commando too. I had been in the process of settling down for some ‘me time’ when I took the call for help.
I was civil and polite, answering his questions as openly as possible. He went to some lengths that he would have heard if something was amiss. I patiently pointed out that no one would be awake all night long. He accepted my reply and offered me a cup of tea while I waited. I could only manage a few mouthfuls as the phone calls to find a locksmith were lengthy. I successfully found someone willing to accept it and knew that it would be a complex and lengthy process. First, they would have to ‘break into the apartment’; no doubt this would involve power tools. Then the second part is to install a new lock and secure the property.
Top
There Was Just The Small Matter of The Locksmith Getting Into The Building
My friends live on the 10th floor of a multi-story apartment building. The lift was out of order; the intercom wasn’t firing on all cylinders either. I could tell from the locksmith’s accent he was most likely Eastern European, which all added to the challenge of responding to a cry for help. With some further assistance from the neighbour, the locksmith gained entry.
Clear Instructions and a Clear Head Made Everything Possible
His name was Cosma, and he was from Latvia. Hearing this brought my heritage to mind. My great-grandparents came from Lithuania. Along with Estonia, they are what is now called the Baltic States. The population formed part of the estimated 10 million refugees after the First World War.
It broke the ice, and I could tell he was surprised I knew so much. That led to my sharing that I was a published writer and blogger. As it does with every stranger, I meet. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to say I’ve become a bit of a whore when it comes to sharing that. I could tell that in other circumstances; he would have been happy to engage in a lengthy conversation around that. However, there was work to be done. The lock was particularly troublesome as it was one of the best available and not easy to ‘break into’. He hoped the drills he had brought would be enough. They were just. He went through four of them.
Top
The Cats Were Only Concerned About Which Of Us Was Going To Feed Them
Heaving a sigh of relief, I looked around for signs that anything was amiss. I was satisfied having been a guest in the apartment on many occasions. I was embarrassed by the state they had left the place. Food is uneaten on the stove—rubbish bags left—floor around the bottom of the bin not swept. I made a mental note to teach these men about cleaning. So while Cosma sorted out the paperwork and payment, I set about getting the place cleaner and more presentable. We continued talking as I shared a bit about my memoir and my new book that I had started only that week.
He was a fascinating man. A complete anti-establishmentarian and a believer in visions. A subject that I felt prompted to bring it up. The issue of images provided an opportunity for him to tell me about a particular vision from his childhood when he saw lights and shapes of spacecraft in the skies above their village and has never forgotten it—convinced that it was Extraterrestrials he had seen. A subject I, too, have found fascinating. I asked if he would like to go for a drink sometime and talk about things some more. He was thrilled that I had offered and beamed a lovely smile as we shook hands and took care of the rest of the business.
Top
Relax, You Asked For My Help, and I Sorted It
Down adage. In my experience, it holds more often than not. So it wouldn’t be until Tuesday I would finally have my ‘me time’. However, the fact it was in my mind and mattered to me meant that it was all the sweeter an experience for me, and I was thankful for the issues that had made it so.
I’ve said it many times over the past couple of years. Words of wisdom from my grandmother would take me years to understand. Her words went over my head at the time. ‘It isn’t what happens to you that matters; rather, how you respond to what happens to you. That will determine your character’. If you respond with doom and gloom, then the things that happen and their effect will linger until you find peace in them.
In contrast, someone who finds a way to find their peace with it as quickly as they can experience a level of ease and comfort that few manage to find. Or put another way, I heard from Dr Jordan B Peterson conflict avoided = conflict multiplied (perhaps exponentially). Decide which type of person you would aspire to and make choices that are more likely to draw you closer to that ambition. Even a distance of a millimetre in the direction of selection is progress.
One of my choices has been only to refuse a cry for help if one of two things is true. Either you get an impression that the cry isn’t genuine. Or you don’t feel you have the money to say yes and have to say no in the best way you know how with the least harm done in the process.
Top
What are your feelings about responding to a cry for help? The first time you did it, what happened? Where are you able to help? Was it challenging? How did you feel afterwards?
Well, that’s it for another week. Remember to hit the like button and subscribe straight for future posts to go straight into your inbox for future publications.
Leave a comment by hitting the “comments” button, and leave your feedback which I value greatly.
Click the links below for my social media sites, website and published work.
PUBLISHED BY
tomgalewriter
An LGBTQ+ writer living and working in Salford UK. A published writer whose new book (due Summer 2022) a memoir tells of how he as a young man in an Edinburgh slum from 1970 – 1990s fought through poverty, violent abuse, the Mormon Church, the British Army, marriage and fatherhood. Whilst all the while struggling to understand his sexuality and inner spirituality leading him to make a decision that could shatter his life and the lives of those he loves most. Will the weight of the past drag him back down? Or will he rise and triumph against all the odds?
He has written short stories, one of which titled ‘Oh Mum’ a fiction based on actual events published in an online magazine Here the Summer 2021 edition. He has written a clutch of Flash Fiction, poems, a radio comedy, and has a weekly blog on his website http://www.tomgalewriter.com He considers himself to be a survivor of two pandemics. He is referring to the HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 1980s.
View all posts by tomgalewriter Posted on January 30, 2023Author tomgalewriterCategories Blog
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tomgalewriter
An LGBTQ+ writer living and working in Birmingham UK. A published writer whose new book (due Summer 2022) a memoir tells of how he as a young man in an Edinburgh slum from 1970 – 1990s fought through poverty, violent abuse, the Mormon Church, the British Army, marriage and fatherhood. Whilst all the while struggling to understand his sexuality and inner spirituality leading him to make a decision that could shatter his life and the lives of those he loves most. Will the weight of the past drag him back down? Or will he rise and triumph against all the odds? He has written short stories on of which titled ‘Oh Mum’ a fiction based on actual events published in an online magazine at http://shortsmagazine.com in the Summer 2021 edition. He has written a clutch of Flash Fiction, poems, a radio comedy, and has a weekly blog on his website http://www.tomgalewriter.com He lives with his partner and are engaged to be married. View all posts by tomgalewriter
Posted on January 30, 2023Author tomgalewriterCategories Blog
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A Cry For HelpThat was until I had a call from Heathrow Airport about an hour before their flight was due to take off. They had purchased temporary visas, and I thought they might have had an issue. They were worried as the person they had left their key with couldn’t get it. My friends had left the key in an electric metre box. The box had been prised open, and the key was gone.
They asked for my help to go to the property and ensure all was safe and secure and, more importantly, that their cats weren’t too traumatised. I assured them I would set out immediately and do whatever was necessary to ensure the cats and their property were secure. They would be out of contact for six hours. I hoped that when they called, I could provide them with an account of what happened and how I handled it.
Weekend Service Is Appalling
Their landlord is a housing association. Their main phone line was closed until Monday morning. It was just after 12:30 on Sunday. I looked at my phone battery level and silently prayed that 34% would be sufficient. I called the landlord, and the voice message informed me there was an emergency repair service available at weekends. As I suspected, they weren’t able to offer any assistance. I told the girl I hoped she doesn’t have to go through this trauma with a family member of hers one day. She would be as much help as a chocolate ashtray and hung up with me saying her response was shameful.
An Emergency Locksmith
I thought, ‘Well, you’ll have to find an emergency locksmith willing and able to take the job. Sure it’ll cost a small fortune but so what. It’ll be worth every penny when I can assure my friends all was well. They could relax. I’ve sorted it. Enjoy your holiday.
Investigated By A Neighbour
My friend had shared a suspicion that a neighbour may have been responsible. However, they had no evidence to support that. I got to meet the fellow. I made quite a noise as I spoke with different people, and he came out to find out who I was. He was a bit brusque and unkempt, but I was no oil painting. I had been in the process of settling down for some ‘me time’ when I took the call for help.
I was civil and polite, answering his questions as openly as possible. He went to some lengths that he would have heard if something was amiss. I patiently pointed out that no one would be awake all night long. He accepted my reply and offered me a cup of tea while I waited. I could only manage a few mouthfuls as the phone calls to find a locksmith were lengthy. I was successful in finding someone willing to accept it and knowing that it would be a complex and lengthy process. First, they would have to ‘break into the apartment’; no doubt this would involve power tools. Then the second part is to install a new lock and secure the property.
There Was Just The Small Matter of The Locksmith Getting Into The Building
My friends live on the 10th floor of a multi-story apartment building. The lift was out of order; the intercom wasn’t firing on all cylinders either. I could tell from the locksmith’s accent he was most likely Eastern European, which all added to the challenge of responding to a cry for help. With some further assistance from the neighbour, the locksmith gained entry.
Clear Instructions and a Clear Head Made Everything Possible
His name was Cosma, and he was from Latvia. Hearing this brought my heritage to mind. My great-grandparents came from Lithuania. Along with Estonia, they are what is now called the Baltic States. The population formed part of the estimated 10 million refugees after the First World War.
It broke the ice, and I could tell he was surprised I knew so much. That led to my sharing that I was a published writer and blogger. As it does with every stranger, I meet. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to say I’ve become a bit of a whore when it comes to sharing that. I could tell that in other circumstances; he would have been happy to engage in a lengthy conversation around that. However, there was work to be done. The lock was particularly troublesome as it was one of the best available and not easy to ‘break into’. He hoped the drills he had brought would be enough. They were just. He went through four of them.
All Was Accounted for, Cats Not Showing Signs of Trauma
Heaving a sigh of relief, I looked around for signs that anything was amiss. I was satisfied having been a guest in the apartment on many occasions. I was embarrassed by the state they had left the place. Food is uneaten on the stove—rubbish bags left—floor around the bottom of the bin not swept. I made a mental note to teach these men about cleaning. So while Cosma sorted out the paperwork and payment, I set about getting the place cleaner and more presentable. We continued talking as I shared a bit about my memoir and my new book that I had started only that week.
He was a fascinating man. A complete anti-establishmentarian and a believer in visions. A subject that I felt prompted to bring it up. The issue of images provided an opportunity for him to tell me about a particular vision from his childhood when he saw lights and shapes of spacecraft in the skies above their village and has never forgotten it—convinced that it was Extraterrestrials he had seen. A subject I, too, have found fascinating. I asked if he would like to go for a drink sometime and talk about things some more. He was thrilled that I had offered and beamed a lovely smile as we shook hands and took care of the rest of the business.
Relax, You Asked For My Help, and I Sorted It
Down adage. In my experience, it holds more often than not. So it wouldn’t be until Tuesday I would finally have my ‘me time’. However, the fact it was in my mind and mattered to me meant that it was all the sweeter an experience for me, and I was thankful for the issues that had made it so.
I’ve said it many times over the past couple of years. Words of wisdom from my grandmother would take me years to understand. Her words went over my head at the time. ‘It isn’t what happens to you that matters; rather, how you respond to what happens to you. That will determine your character’. If you respond with doom and gloom, then the things that happen and their effect will linger until you find peace in them.
In contrast, someone who finds a way to find their peace with it as quickly as they can experience a level of ease and comfort that few manage to find. Or put another way, I heard from Dr Jordan B Peterson conflict avoided = conflict multiplied (perhaps exponentially). Decide which type of person you would aspire to and make choices that are more likely to draw you closer to that ambition. Even a distance of a millimetre in the direction of selection is progress.
One of my choices has been only to refuse a cry for help if one of two things is true. Either you get an impression that the cry isn’t genuine. Or you don’t feel you have the money to say yes and have to say no in the best way you know how with the least harm done in the process.
What are your feelings about responding to a cry for help? The first time you did it, what happened? Where are you able to help? Was it challenging? How did you feel afterwards?
Well, that’s it for another week. Remember to hit the like button and subscribe straight for future posts to go straight into your inbox for future publications.
Leave a comment by hitting the “comments” button, and leave your feedback which I value greatly.
Click the links below for my social media sites, website and published work.
PUBLISHED BY
tomgalewriter
An LGBTQ+ writer living and working in Salford UK. A published writer whose new book (due Summer 2022) a memoir tells of how he as a young man in an Edinburgh slum from 1970 – 1990s fought through poverty, violent abuse, the Mormon Church, the British Army, marriage and fatherhood. Whilst all the while struggling to understand his sexuality and inner spirituality leading him to make a decision that could shatter his life and the lives of those he loves most. Will the weight of the past drag him back down? Or will he rise and triumph against all the odds?
He has written short stories one of which titled ‘Oh Mum’ a fiction based on actual events published in an online magazine Here the Summer 2021 edition. He has written a clutch of Flash Fiction, poems, a radio comedy, and has a weekly blog on his website http://www.tomgalewriter.com He considers himself to be a survivor of two pandemics. He is referring to the HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 1980s.
View all posts by tomgalewriter Posted on January 30, 2023Author tomgalewriterCategories Blog
Leave a Reply
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PREVIOUSPrevious post:#0057 Writing Tips From Authors On The Novelry Blog
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#0053 How Are We Doing?
January 2, 2023
In “Blog”
#0054 RIP DOMA
January 9, 2023
In “Blog”
#0057 Writing Tips From Authors On The Novelry Blog
January 28, 2023
In “Blog”
PUBLISHED BY
tomgalewriter
An LGBTQ+ writer living and working in Birmingham UK. A published writer whose new book (due Summer 2022) a memoir tells of how he as a young man in an Edinburgh slum from 1970 – 1990s fought through poverty, violent abuse, the Mormon Church, the British Army, marriage and fatherhood. Whilst all the while struggling to understand his sexuality and inner spirituality leading him to make a decision that could shatter his life and the lives of those he loves most. Will the weight of the past drag him back down? Or will he rise and triumph against all the odds? He has written short stories on of which titled ‘Oh Mum’ a fiction based on actual events published in an online magazine at http://shortsmagazine.com in the Summer 2021 edition. He has written a clutch of Flash Fiction, poems, a radio comedy, and has a weekly blog on his website http://www.tomgalewriter.com He lives with his partner and are engaged to be married. View all posts by tomgalewriter
Posted on January 30, 2023Author tomgalewriterCategories Blog
Leave a Reply
Post navigation
PREVIOUS
Previous post:
#0057 Writing Tips From Authors On The Novelry Blog
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Exit mobile version
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