Stories | Heidi Esther, Joyologist

The Loving Eye of the Heart-i-cane

Wow, Barbara. Your 13-year-old process of deduction while unconscious is most impressive.

Heart Attack Series 2 of 2. Read First Story Here.

4:28 am: The Hospital

We park in the ER lot. We don our masks and walk to the door in the cold, pre-dawn morning. I hold Stacey’s arm in her puffy green coat. Her whole body is trembling. This is bad.

5 paces in: the Check-in desk. As casually as a conversation about the weather, Stacey is asked her reason for the visit. She nods. I tell the woman her signs of a pre-heart attack. She writes it down on a ledger, types something, and looks back up. Could this woman move any slower?

stacey might die if this woman doesn’t hurry up her cursive!!

Just who do you think you are?

Written in honor of International Women’s Day 2021 #IWD2021 #ChooseToChallenge

Hey amazing soul! You can CLICK HERE to see me read it on Facebook!

I am recovering woman.
  Watching the boys
    following His dreams.
"Wanna hear another dumb blonde joke?" 

I am recovering woman.
   Waiting for husband
     to come home from work
"I cannot live without you."

you bet this is a totally righteous poem! Read on, worthy soul!

Can you Dance in a Heart-i-cane?

What happens when Heidi Esther’s answer for everything – toast – doesn’t solve the problem? What else can she do?

(The Heart Attack Series, 1 of 2. Second Story coming March 10!)

A story, from Barbara

It’s the middle of the night. So, I’m sleeping, right? Minding my own business. Snuggled high in my Ikea loft bed under my Wiener-dog blanket and the crocheted one Stacey made me. She’s my step-mom. I’m thirteen years old. And I’m wearing my striped pajama pants with Christmas chihuahuas if you must know.

That’s when I woke up. From the scratching. What the heck? Like someone’s clawing at my window. I’m not scared; I’m the family member who picks up bugs and puts them back outside. Alive. So, I open my curtains.

what’s outside? read on, brave soul!

Love and Light Warrior: Dixie Elliott

Dixie knew she had more light and love to share. But she did not know the way. Like with many things in her life, God gave her too many nudges to ignore.

Deep in the Heart of Dixie

“One, two, f-ree, four, nine, ten. Ready or not, Gammie!” bubble from two bright hazel eyes and sandy-brown hair in curly baby piggy-tails. Alice.

OMG Alice sounds like a little doll! Read on for more cuteness!

Trapped with love: Our Corona Waiting Game

Covid Series 2 of 2. First story here!

Stacey and I get home from Covid testing.

Living room. Family meeting.

oh no! who’s in trouble now? Read more!

When one door is barred off…

I can’t go anywhere without my pillow, which, to be honest, can be replaced by one towel.

I sat there, in a looks-like-Voldemort’s-Ministry-of-Magic-Boardroom. The third story of a law office in our midwestern downtown. My cold, clammy hands clutched a legal agreement. I looked up from the papers to the outside.

but what does the paper say??? read on, valiant soul!

Attack of the Teenage Quarantine

Jason and his wife came over for football. New friends, who live next door, love wine, AND can talk football with my wife? A PANDEMIC MIRACLE. So, we went all out….

(Covid Series 1 of 2. Second Story is HERE)

The Wednesday that wasn’t

I cozied into my found-on-the-curb-and-it’s-perfectly-fine-with-two-pillows-see? desk chair. ⅓ caff coffee on the candle warmer. Fairy lights twinkling in my Apple Knockers cider jug. My favorite daytime sweatpants, warm out of the dryer. It’s gonna be a great day.

that sounds lovely! I wonder what happens next? Read on!

What happened to my new life: The grey days

Placing her hand on my heart.

Stacey: And you need time to see how amazing you are and love yourself, too.

God, thank you for putting Stacey in my life.

A crappy grey day in February, 8 years ago

Sitting at my dining room table, staring at my quiet phone.

The floor and trim, ebony. Walls, an impersonal white. One side, an equally ebony oversized Goodwill china cabinet, filled with my everyday dishes, glasses. My small kitchen sucks. The other wall, covered in preschool artwork. The table itself, awash with crayons, paper, glue. They went to Dad’s house in the middle of craft time. I’ll pick that up later, I said two days ago. An ass-cold day, throwing sleet on the window. The useless overhead light casting a smoke-stained glow.

Nobody likes you.

Say it ain’t so! How could that be? what’s going on with her?

Hamster Series 2/2: Welcome to the World’s Toughest Hamster

Hamster Series 1/2: Big Mamma Love for a Little Fur Ball Hamster Series 2/2: Welcome to the World’s Toughest Hamster

Two days later, in the early morning.

Barbara (shuffling in the kitchen with a long face): Mom, Batgirl is shaking again.

She hugs my robed-self tightly from the side. I wrap my arms around her.

Me: People also get like this, at the end, too. It’s just that we give them medicine.

Barbara: It’s not fair.

Yes, it might be time for a kleenex. Read on, sweet animal-loving soul!

Hamster Series 1/2: Big Mamma Love for a Little Fur Ball

Wow. I’ve never seen her hold anything with so much care.

Me: You’re like a hamster-whisperer.

Barbara: LOL, Mom.

Hamster Series 1/2: Big Mamma Love for a Little Fur Ball Hamster Series 2/2: Welcome to the World’s Toughest Hamster

A Texted Conversation from the Humane Society

Barbara (My 11-year-old daughter): OMG Mom! Is that a hamster?

Me: Yep! What do you think? He just came in.

Barbara: He is super cute! And not like Herman.

Me: Do you mean because he’s a different color?

Barbara: Yes, and he’s so small.

Me: No, it’s just the black fur, he’s another Siberian hamster. We’ll still have to use the rat cage.

Barbara: LOL, OK 😀

loving this hammy? what will happen next? Read on!