At last..

July 11, 2012 by 4 Comments

 

 

Traffic, toll booth, parking lot. 

Run!  

Smiles, hugs. 

My family.

At last.

 

Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #58: Eleven

 

Eleven.

Like the number. Just like the number, actually. Exactly, even. You might go so far as to say that the number (11, that is) is in fact the prompt. Because it is. That’s what’s going on.  Can you tell a story in 11 words? Can you tell 11 stories in one word? Can you tell a story using only words with 11 letters? Can you tell an 11 using only letters of word story?
Go with that first one. Tell a story using exactly 11 words

Here’s my story and I’m sticking to it!  My Florida family arrives early Friday morning.  It’s been eleven months and twenty-nine days since they were last here in New York.  My home is a hustle and bustle of activity as I get the guest room ready and stock the shelves and fridge full of everything my two Grandsons love.  I get to spoil them absolutely rotten for their entire visit.   At some point, I’ll sit back while my head explodes as all four of my Grandkids run everywhere, ask to be fed and insist that I go bowling with them. 

That’s my job and I do it rather well.

My hubs is just finishing some major Tree House construction in our backyard.  Unlike most of his projects, the cusswords during this one were kept to a minimum this time.  Almost.

That’s his job.  Our local Home Depot has given him a preferred parking space and they call our home if he doesn’t show up there once each week.

Right now I’m busy making two signs for the Tree House….

“No Girls Allowed” and “No Boys Allowed“. 

They can all fight it out.  That includes Grandpa.

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She waits..

July 2, 2012 by 5 Comments

Love once lived here within these walls, now they are barren guardians of lost dreams.  Roses bloomed along with the laughter of children playing in the yard.  The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through rooms, wrapping the house in a blanket of comfort.  As darkness fell, she would sit by her favorite window that faced the sea, cradling her youngest child.  She watched the endless horizon and hoped that one more sunset might bring him home..again.

But, that was so long ago, before she lost count of the days and endless nights.  Before she realized that he would never return.  Her children grew and the roses slowly withered while silence danced in and out of the trees.  Her tears mixed with the pounding spray from the ocean.

Some say she walks the halls still.  Her shadow is often seen, waiting by the upstairs window, in this house where love once lived..and hope died.

 

 

Flicker of Inspiration #57: Speed Photo Prompt and Linkup

This week we’re bringing you another speed prompt, but this one has a twist. This time we’re mashing up a photo with speed. We want you to look at the photo. Let it take you somewhere. Let it tell you its story. Then, for ten solid minutes, write down words inspired by that photo. You can give us fiction, non-fiction, or poetry. Whatever the picture stirs within you.

 

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Hope…like a Butterfly

June 26, 2012 by 12 Comments

Hope departed when she died.  I often talk about it being the second time she left me…without saying good-bye.

Throughout her illness, I held out the hope that she might remember.  She rarely did.  Like a butterfly struggling to break free from its cocoon, her memories darted in and out of the sunlight, fought against the darkness of every night, and me.

Still, there was always that chance she might turn her head and recognize that I was part of her life.  Or had been, once.

It was overwhelming, at times a helpless feeling, as I stood  in the shadows of that familiar stranger wanting to become the missing piece of her puzzle of forgetfulness.  A puzzle left scattered, never to be completed.

Hope, for me, departed on June 29th, 2006, on the wings of a butterfly who never looked back, taking with it many desires and needs and dreams.  While hope can carry on its back an entire soul, lifting up sorrow and bringing back joy, it also takes many forms, depending on your perspective; wildly positive or very reserved, almost cautious. Most of us hope for better days, health, happiness or just some release of a heavy burden.  For me, it was the hope that my late mother would remember something beyond the walls of what Alzheimer’s allowed.  I kept hoping she would remember…me.  

 

When she passed away, that hope went along with her.   

 

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