Happy Halloween, Scaredy Cats!

Around the beginning of October, all the Halloween movies start crawling out of the woodwork and into the movie theaters.  I got freaked out watching some of the video trailers on television last week; they are so graphic and some of them would frighten the wits out of little children.  Can you imagine what a child would think if they got a glimpse of Freddy Krueger or the Chainsaw Massacre on a television advertisement?  Those images could leave some deep scars and sleepless nights!  

My sister and I had an experience that was chilling when I was eight and she was fourteen.  It was the weekend before Halloween and my parents had gone out to a costume party.  My sister, Libby, and I were the only ones at home and we had decided to watch The Twilight Zone (not a good choice for a child who was afraid of her own shadow; that would be me)!  

It was an episode titled, The Eye of the Beholder.  This chilling story was about a team of doctors who had completed plastic surgery on a woman’s face (the doctors implied she was born with horrifying features that only intense plastic surgery could repair).  The surgery was completed and they were preparing to unveil the woman’s face.

The doctors were hovering around her and all that was visible were the backs of their white jackets.  With creepy background music playing, I watched as the doctors unwrapped the bandages, but they were disappointed to see the surgery had not changed her appearance.  One of the doctors made the comment. “There is nothing more we can do, we’re sorry!”  At this point I was curled up in a ball next to my sister and we were smashed together in my dad’s recliner, just a few feet from the TV screen.

We hung on with suspense as the doctors hovered around the woman with their backs turned to the viewers.  Then they handed her a mirror and she screamed in horror when she saw her face.  At that moment the doctors backed away and we were surprised to see the woman was extremely beautiful!   

Then came the drama; immediately, the camera panned around the hospital room to reveal the faces of all the doctors and nurses and they were the monsters!   The surgery was an attempt to make her ugly like them, for she presumed she was the abnormal one.  I freaked out!  I wasn't prepared and it had happened so quickly that there was no time for me to hide my eyes.  Those scary faces were all over the place and every time I blinked, I saw ugly monsters!

When it was time to go to bed we decided to leave a small lamp on in our bedroom.  Fortunately for me, my sister and I shared a room together in a second story home.  Second story sounds luxurious, but I assure you that was not the case; our upstairs resembled a haunted house!   All the rooms were unfinished, which added to our anxiety.  Each time the lights from passing cars reflected off the windows, it cast spooky shadows that danced across the walls.

We had just started to drift off to sleep when we heard noises coming from downstairs.  It was a banging sound in random patterns that wouldn’t stop.  Libby and I were terrified and I had conjured up the most horrible thoughts in my mind.  I imagined everything from Booger John to Captain Hook and I even thought the Twilight Zone monster doctors were sawing on a patient in our kitchen!  I knew it was just a matter of time before “it” would find us hiding under our blankets.  

Then Libby said the unimaginable, “We have to go downstairs and find out what that is!”  

That was a terrible idea, why would she even suggest that... but I wasn’t about to stay upstairs by myself and each time she took a step forward, I took one too.  She grabbed our brother’s baseball bat that was leaning against his wall and I thought that was a brilliant thing to do, so I grabbed the closest thing I could find and it was a belt.  Libby was disgusted with my choice.

“What’re you gonna do with a belt, dress it or spank it?  At lease get something that will protect us!”  She was preparing me for battle, but my better judgment told me to hide somewhere safe until our parents got home! 

I looked around and found a board, we both agreed that was a better choice and together we crept down the stairs.   At the bottom of the staircase was a door that entered into the living room.  When Libby opened the door the noise seemed so much louder, she hesitated out of fear and I was so scared that I levitated a few inches off the ground.  I was about to run back upstairs when she gave me more instructions. 

“Hold your board up and get ready, the noise is coming from the kitchen.  Stay right behind me.”  

I was so close to her that I could feel her heart beating through mine!  If she had spooked me at any time, I probably would have hit her in the head with the board!  We walked step by step and hardly breathing, fearing the monster would hear us.  The noise was banging and clanging as we rounded the corner into the kitchen.   We had our weapons held high, but we were shocked and relieved to see that one of our little kittens had it’s head stuck in an empty Campbell's soup can.  

Apparently, the soup can had fallen off the top of the waste basket.  The kitten started licking the inside of the can and when it’s head got far enough inside, it became stuck!   The kitten was banging around blindly against our metal cabinets in the kitchen and trying to knock this Campbell’s soup can off it’s head!  It was a hilarious sight to see.  We pulled the can off the kitten’s head, washed it’s face and laughed about how scared we were through the chilling experience.  

We definitely were "Scaredy Cats" that evening!  I am still amazed at how powerful a child’s mind can become when engaged in fear.  If there was a way to harness the amount of energy exerted by my sister and I that night, it could have powered the city for several days. by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.

“.... Come in Earthlings.”

It would be impossible to contact anyone on this planet because most of the inhabitants are already floating somewhere out there in cyberspace.  Their eyes are transfixed on computer screens while their cell phones are embedded deep inside the ear canal next to the brain!

The people of the 21 century are enslaved by cyber technology and from the neck up they are becoming computerized robots.  They have abandon their inherent physical and spiritual strengths for the mechanical beast, but not without a price to pay.  I would like to believe we are still sensitive, interactive and intelligent life forms and that we haven't substituted the uniqueness of our individual characteristics to be an Apple or a Blackberry!  

When was the last time you looked at a sunset, (excluding the one on your screen saver) had a conversation with a person face to face (not using your computer, cellphone or texting) and do you remember the last time you went for a walk with no alterier motives?  Times have changed in the last 30 years and it’s whirling around like the clocks in Alice and Wonderland.  

Wouldn’t it be nice to go back to those days when life was much simpler?  Do you remember how time dragged by when you were young? If there were 24 days until Christmas it felt like 24 light years to another planet. Everything appeared to be evolving in slow motion and in reality, I believe time was on our side.  We demanded our privacy and enjoyed our freedom... in the good old days when we were the master of our soul.

People seemed more laid back and content.  Computer technology was no where in sight and in someways we might have been a little better off without it.  We worked an 8 hour shift and not a minute later; no one wanted to pay overtime and when the work day was done, it was, “hit the road Jack!”  And your boss would never think of calling you at home after hours, unless the office building had burned down or you were fired!  It was important to keep the personal life separated from the professional life and we managed to do it without a hitch!

Resting in the palm of our hand was usually the hand of a loved one, not a cellphone.  If someone called on the home phone while preoccupied, nine times out of ten we would have said, “I am busy, take a message and I’ll call them back later.”  

Our children had fingers they used for something more productive than texting.  They playing the piano, loading the dishwasher, cleaned their rooms, took out the trash, mowed the lawn and even scratched their own heads. They also knew how to tell time on a traditional clock and count change using real dollar bills and coins; these abilities are becoming obsolete. (A few weeks ago, I had to assist a sales lady in counting my change when her digital register shut down.)  Hello, is anyone in there? 

Our society believes that computers, cellphones, iPods, Touch Pads, gadgets and widgets are the greatest innovations of all times.  We were told the computerized generation would free up precious time by allowing us to be more productive during working hours, thus providing more quality time to spend with our families or our private lives.  

Wrong Captain Cyberspace, this generation was taken prisoner in the 1970s by the Darth Vader of computerized technology and the inhabitants of Earth are being held captive according to their free will.  Earthlings now resemble zombies similar to those in the movie The Night of the Living Dead, but the facts conclude that this technology came like a thief in the night!  It crept in slowly like the body snatchers, stealing the souls of our loved ones and leaving us with someone we hardly recognize!  

All the valuable time we dreamed of spending with our families in the privacy of our homes was really just a dream. The average person spends 4 to 6 hours on the computer daily, 1440 minutes on their cellphones, and texting has surpassed all those figures.  


I was siting in the airport trying to have a moment of peace and there were several cellphone conversations going on around me at the same time, bouncing off my ear drums (which was so frustrating because everyone was trying desperately to have a conversation 50 decibels above all the others)!


The average daily work hours have increased considerably because of the cyber world in which we live. People work in airports, coffee shops, restaurants, hotels and even their automobiles.  They sacrifice their personal time and late nights at home to complete work related business.  

When cellphones first came out, I resisted getting one for years; I wanted to preserve my anonymity.  One fine day when I was at my daughters home visiting, she left me one of their cellphones while she went to run some errands.  She wasn’t gone too long when I heard it ringing somewhere in the living room.  I quickly grabbed what I thought was a cellphone, pushed the green power button and placed it to my ear.  My 9 year old grandson said, “Grandma, that’s the channel changer.” That's when I realized I was inept and had to get with the times.

Now, I have become a product of the environment and today I am striving to catch up with technology as it whirls by at the speed of sound.  As a writer, I have my computer running at least 8 to 14 hours a day and my cellphone is always next to me.  Most nights, I sleep with it by my pillow just in case there is an emergency.  A few mornings I have found the button imprints on the side of my face. 

I truly miss the days when we worked less and played more, when a control panel operated the USS Enterprise, a disk was an Unidentified Flying Object, a download was a long time in the bathroom, an upload was hitting the fridge around midnight, a floppy was a bad hair day or a worn out brassiere, a hard drive was when I wrecked my dad’s car, icons were The Beatles, Paul Newman and Elvis, the Scroll Bar was on the corner of 5th & Main Street, the server was the waitress at the Scroll Bar, a boot was what you got if your spouse caught you at the Scroll Bar, user friendly was someone with a bad reputation, a megabyte was the mistake of sharing your pizza with a big brother, and a memory was something we all had when we were young!

Time is the gift of life and must be spent wisely, it cannot be duplicated or replaced!  We cannot kill time, but time can kill us!  We are blessed to have the time to choose, the time to love and the time to live.

                                                                                         by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day

I want to thank everyone who has supported my blog and shared it with friends and family.  I love creative writing and enjoy sharing my bizarre experiences and craziness with others. I believe laughter is the best medicine and second best would be sharing a box of chocolates with your best friend.  Thanks everyone, you brighten my days!

In My Father’s Light.

I have had many people ask me where I found the inspiration behind the book, My Dad is Forever.  They say that it brings about deep reflections of their lives and the love they experienced with their father. It’s difficult to read without shedding a tears, but they are tears of joy and edification.  I have been told the book has a spirit of it’s own and the pages emulate the purest love between that of a father and his child.  I had a magnificent childhood and my father is the reason this book is so successful. 

My father was dedicated to his family and the most wonderful dad a little girl could dream of having. To me, he was a prince and his love overflowed into all our lives like a song from the heart.  He didn’t put work, friends, extracurricular activities or himself before his family life and I truly believed that he would be there for me forever.  To a child, their dad is invincible, they are a hero and the magnificent knight that slay the dragon underneath the bed...

I learned how to walk, run, ride a bike and navigate through the trials in life from my dad.  My mother was more reserved, but my father was a character not easily forgotten.  His stories were bigger than life and he loved everyone surrounding him.  He had the ability to make people laugh about life and feel blessed to be in his presence.  My dad made the sun shine directly on those around him; it felt warm to be in his presence.

When I was in high school my father became very ill with arteriosclerosis and his condition was life threatening.  He was not expected to survive more than a few months; although he was scheduled for surgery, the procedures were high risk.  There were three separate times my family was summoned to the hospital by my father’s doctor who told my mother, “he wasn’t expected to live through the night.”  

I was distraught by the reality of losing my father and my world began to unravel.  I didn't realized how frail and vulnerable the mind could become, until I was faced with my father's death.   It’s impossible to describe the levels of pain a child goes through when they believe a parent is leaving them behind.  Everyday becomes a nightmare, soon you are suffocating in your own fears and the sorrow is heavy, thick, and lonely.  

I didn’t want to know life without my father in it, he was the safety net and I always knew that no matter what happened out in the world, home was a much better place!  It got to the point where I couldn’t endure the pain and I was unable to comprehend how life could go on without him.  Everything eventually dies, I knew that, but not now and not him!  

It got to the point where I couldn’t concentrate in school anymore and my grades began to suffer.  I spent evenings at the hospital and my days consumed with the anxiety that this could be the last time we have together. 

I was the youngest of 9 siblings and it was obvious to me how difficult this was for everyone including my mother.  No one prepares you for something like this and I didn’t know where to go with the anger!  I wanted to cry out, but I didn’t want my mother to hear because she was already in too much pain.  Days stopped passing by, they just hovered over my head like a dark cloud and I felt detached from the world.

When I went to school, each day became more difficult and in reality, I wasn’t present.  There were times when I listened to the teacher talking, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to hear what was being said.  None of it really mattered anymore; I wasn’t emotionally, mentally or physically attached to my world.  

One day a boy in my french class was teasing me because I was unprepared with an assignment.  He taunted me relentlessly and called me an idiot!  I was too shy to say anything to anyone, so each morning as I climbed the stairs of the bus, I had two things to worry about; my father dying and someone making inconsiderate and rude comments to me in my darkest hours.  

It’s important to teach children to be kind, (it’s nice to be important but it’s more important to be nice).  One never knows what trials or tragedies others are going through in their personal life.  They may be at the edge and needing love and light from another soul to give them the strength to endure and those words spoken could either make it or break it for them.  Wouldn’t it  be a heavy burden to bare knowing that your negative comments were the last that person heard before they slipped off the edge.   

My father’s surgeries were successful and it was indeed a miracle in all our lives to have him come home and bless us with his wonderful countenance.  Every soul in this life is a light unto the world and when that light is extinguished, there is an empty space and darkness where that brilliant light once shined.  It cannot be replace by another light, for each soul has a special place to shine.  I counted the miracles in my life and I was grateful that my father would be there to warm my life once again with his love. 

I graduated from high school two years later and attended a local university in my home town.  One day I came home from school around 5:00 p.m.  My mother was working late, I prepared dinner and then went in to wake my father, whom I thought was resting.  This night would be very difficult for me as I realized my father had passed away and I was alone in our home when this experience happened.  There was not going to be a miracle for me on that day, he had slipped away quietly and unassuming, but that was his way -  never wanting to cause any more pain than necessary.   

I don’t think a child can sufficiently prepare themselves for the death of a parent.  I stood next to my father’s lifeless body and felt a part of my life slipping away with his spirit.  The faith I had in the life hereafter was not strong enough to sustain me and the sting of death was overpowering.  I was, however, grateful that I was the one to be there and spend a sacred moment telling him goodbye.  There was no doubt in my heart for I knew that his spirit was still in the room and I could feel the power of his presence.  There was a level of love that was exchanged between a daughter for her father in a quiet reverence that only angels can hear.  Then the room became still - and I knew he was called beyond the veil and the light extinguished, never again to shine in this world. 

After he was buried, I fell into a black abyss.  I mourned for his brilliant countenance and the excellence that had surrounded my family throughout his journey upon this earth.  If one could be fortunate enough to meet my father in the spirit world, they would indeed understand why I wrote the book, My Dad is Forever.  The story emulates the greatness of noble fathers and the legacy of love they instill in the hearts of their children.  

I was fortunate to receive an endorsement by Stephen R. Covey, author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and The 8th Habit: From Effectiveness to Greatness:  "My Dad is Forever is an uplifting and inspiring story of the love between a father and a son.  The Childhood memories evoked by this special book will bring laughter, tears and joy to the reader." 

My Dad is forever is dedicated to my father, my sons and their sons who have inspired the magnificence of genuine love, warm tones and tiny miracles.  Every soul is a gift of life.   

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