Once upon my medieval time, in a land not too far from here, I used to service the evil machines of man. One of these machines became rather sick, and
it was that which brought upon me a most gracious and kind soul, who became a friend and customer of my services. She had a once kind and benevolent
machine, which had been infected with the most vicious viruses and taken over to do the bidding of the evil men who had implanted them.
No matter how she tried, the machine would not work properly and kept luring her to evil, disgusting places in the world wide spider web, woven by
what seemed like a menacing Black Widow. It was poison.
When I arrived on my first service call, the first thing I noticed in her room was the majestic head of an ancient dragon, looking so mighty and
splendid upon her shelf.
I used to comment constantly to her how I loved that dragon head. The detail in the skin and colors were beautiful.
Hours upon hours I would spend each visit, making the machine better little by little, and carefully removing the offending plethora of sickness one
painstaking piece at a time. For the machine was also laden with a lifetime of my friend's favorite memories, and cherish them much she did. But the
evil viruses kept her from them, and this was a major problem I vowed to cure, no matter how long it took.
By the third visit, we were quite comfortable with each other, and I convinced her that I could do much better for the machine at my humble abode-
sort of like taking a patient to the doctor's office. A doctor can carry some tools into the field, but he is most effective when he has access to all
his tools. And so off I went with her machine, taking it back with me to my humble hospital.
I would be embarrassed to admit how long it finally took me to fix that machine, but a promise is a promise. And Lord knows I could not charge her for
all that time. I would have to settle for the bright smile after smile I witnessed upon calling up her cherished memories, one by one, on the next
visit when I delivered it back- along with a greatly reduced and modest charge.
So thrilled she was to finally have access again to those memories, she called me back in as I was leaving, and handed me a check. Looking down, my
"Oh no," I said. "This is WAY too much."
"No no, it's not enough," she insisted. "You have no idea what this means to me, and three other so called 'doctors' could not fix it. Only you did.
Please, I beg you- take it, and thank you so much." She gave me a hug like she was my Mom, and sent me on my way.
I would call her once in a while to check on her and her machine, and she always appreciated those calls. "Oh it's running great," she would say. Then
one day she called and wanted a new accessory for it, and I was happy to assist. Once again I found myself staring at the majestic dragon head,
totally mesmerized, as I installed the addition.
"That is awesome!" I would say. She knew how much I adored that thing.
But apparently all good things must come to an end. A mere year after I had met her I got a call from a mutual friend of ours who told me she was
sick. So I went to visit her, and she laid some very heavy news upon me: Two days prior doctors had discovered that her body was completely consumed
with a very malignant cancer. She was informed that she had only three months at best to live.
I was so sad for her. This really sucked. I didn't even know what to say other than I was so sorry, and how I had enjoyed our time together. So at the
end of the visit I hugged her one last time. But as I was leaving again she stopped me.
"Here, I want you to have this," she said. And she handed me a box. I opened it to find my favorite dragon, all wrapped up in paper.
"Wow, really?" I asked, trying to contain my excitement amid the heavy, devastating news.
"Yes, it's not going to do me any good any more with where I'm going soon. It is something you always loved, and you can remember me by. And it has a
Astonished, I thanked her profusely and gave her one last hug. It was so difficult looking at her as I left, knowing what was going to happen.
And nearly three months to the day, I got the call from our mutual friend, that she was indeed gone. Another life taken by cancer. So sad.
In the months that followed, I kept looking at it occasionally, wondering what the secret was. And then one day I removed a little piece on its
nostrils and discovered that I was now the proud owner of a real fire-breathing dragon:
For my dragon is also an incense burner.
I miss you Gail.
May your soul RIP.
edit on Sun Jan 11th 2015 by TrueAmerican because: (no reason given)