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The Power of Keep Moving On by Michael T Smith

The Power of Keep Moving On by Michael T Smith

Jean strolled along the New Jersey beach near her parent’s cottage. Since she was ten, when they’d first purchased the cottage, they’d spent every weekend during the summer here. It used to be her favorite place, but now it was just painful memories. The white sands, nice homes, and good friends meant little to her. She wanted Steve.

Today the ocean water was warm, not offering much relief from the relentless heat. It was July 23rd, an anniversary she honored, by returning to the spot where her life had changed so dramatically. It was the date she’d met Steve.

She’d been twenty two, in medical college, on her way to become a doctor. Her friends from summers past invited her to a beach party. It was there she met Steve. The moment she saw those deep blue eyes, the dimpled chin, and trim body, she was lost.

She knew he was the one.

They sat by the fire, sand clinging to their wet skin, and talked. It was instant love. He was eight years older, but that didn’t bother Jean. She liked his maturity. She’d always been more mature than others her age. It was refreshing to talk to a man who matched her mentally. They talked for hours. The drinks flowed. They drifted from their friends, and it was then Jean’s life changed. Three months later, she dropped out of medical school. She was going to be a mother. They were married at Brooklyn City Hall by a justice of the court.

Steve worked for a small advertising firm in Brooklyn. He did well. They decided they could manage financially until they could afford a nanny and Jean could return to school.

Steve worked hard, as Jean took care of their new son Alex. Life was good. He moved from that small company to a bigger one in Manhattan. He was assigned a contract for a moving company. His slogan, with bill boards, flyers, and TV advertisements, pushed his client to the top in their market.

She was proud of Steve. His hard work and dedication paid off. He was made a partner in his firm. The moving company contract led to more. He worked long hours, but when they could, they spent their weekends at the beach, where they’d fallen in love.

Jean stood staring at the waves splashing her feet. It had been almost four years since she last heard from Steve. He went to work one day and never returned. No one has seen him since. She called the authorities, told them he was missing, but no trace of him was ever found.

She moved to ”their” spot, the place where Alex was conceived, remembering Steve’s touch. The experience that night was more than she ever dreamed - two people coming together as one - true love.

Jean winced. Something cut into her bare foot.

She looked down and saw the edge of a laminated business card protruding from the sand. She pulled it free, brushed the sand away, and read, “Manhattan Movers - Keep moving on.” It was Steve’s slogan, the one that drove him to the top of his firm.

Jean sank to the sand. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, and stared out over the ocean, remembering the morning Steve disappeared, the morning terrorists flew a plane into his building. It was the day her life and much of the world changed.

Like millions of others, she’d watched the news that morning and saw the buildings collapse. She knew there was little hope. For more than three years she clung to the possibility that Steve had been able to escape, perhaps hit on the head, and not able to remember anything. It was an impossible dream, but she couldn’t let it go - admit that Steve was dead.

Five-year-old Alex splashed water as he ran to his mother. “Mom! Mom! Look what I found?” He held out a shell for Jean to see, and then saw the tears on his mother’s cheeks. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

Jean’s voice failed her as she pulled Alex into her arms and cradled him. She looked at the card again, “Keep Moving On.” It was Steve telling her she had to move on. She had to let go of the hope and realize he wasn’t coming back.

Jean held Alex at arms length. He was a miniature Steve. Steve was still with her. His son would carry his name and his genes. She would give Alex everything he needed to make him as successful as his father.

They were going to keep moving on.

Michael T Smith
http://heartsandhumor.com/blog/

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