Wednesday, November 23, 2011

One veteran's help years before Teaching Hands

The first day I met Jeff, I wondered, "where have you been all my life." Don't let his quiet exterior fool you. Being an analytical person Jeff observed before he spoke. His golden tan covered some of his 6'1" body frame. Included were those rippling muscles throughout most of his body. This told you he was strong. Not so with his insides -- fighting for his life.

One warm fall afternoon Jeff and I took a walk. I chatted away about a website (not Les Bois Arts) that need some help - content. (This was before experts told you the importance of the written word.) Around thirty seconds or so went by when my six sense kicked in. Looked behind me to see Jeff way back there. Did an about face picked up my pace to see if he was alright. Reached Jeff and found him frozen, staring at me. 

"Are you okay?"

"Ma, told me I would write someday."

Those words were music to my ears. We continued to walk and talk. The conversation had me firing questions at him as though I was a machine gun. Jeff stated, "Slow down." Flashed him a grin cause, I needed to catch my breath.

The walk continued however, the talk came to an abrupt stop. At that time a silly thing called a computer was not in Jeff's vocabulary let alone in his life. Jeff showed me that electronics will not be in his way from his writing. He was the fastest learner I ever had with a PC and Macintosh.

Being a morning person helped me to get my writing accomplished. During this time my character creating and dialog was in bloom. There are more parts to a book than being a script writer. Jeff was a night owl he did the editing. He also, added in the scenes and taught me how.

Jeff and I would joke about our past lives. Added to this are the things we did when we were younger. When Jeff turned nineteen he was drafted into the war -- Vietnam. All of his body parts came back home with him and two Bronze Stars. Something else chose to come back to the states too. Agent Orange and another nasty little bugger called Heptitus C.

Jeff's battle with his "little buddy" took his life on February 13, 2003. Our written material is on hold at this very moment. At the time we did not know, readers and publishers are not interested in a soap-opera book. Already working on a different angle for our hard work to come to print. There is another work in progress that came to Jeff in a dream. Before he went home, Jeff, made sure I had the outline to the book.

Another important task for Jeff was to help one vet.

In the beginning the written word was a daunting task without Jeff. The pain seems to have lesson when most of my time is spent with my fingers typing away and a "cup of joe" by my side. There are those times while my fingers are flying through the keyboard I wonder, if Jeff is near by. Some times I believe so, the delete key is erasing something before I've had time to read it.