Hope…like a Butterfly

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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For the simple things….

Time has just been running away from me lately and blogging, about anything, has taken a very big hit.


It’s not that thoughts and ideas haven’t been waking me up at night, urging me to write, write, WRITE!!  Putting it all in order to make a worthy blog post has been another thing entirely.

All excuses aside, I’ve been reflecting on the joys of life as we head into the time of year when you stop dead in your frantic tracks and rejoice, giving thanks for the simple things.

Family, friends, health and happiness.

A sturdy roof over your head, a warm fire, food on the table and…a job.

The laughter of children.

Traditions that create fond memories for those we will someday leave behind.


Ahhh, yes, these simple things we should never take for granted!

Thanksgiving Blessings, one and all!


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Do I know you?

“Hey, I know you!”

“Are you speaking to me?”

“Well, I don’t see anyone else around so, I guess I am. It’s Patty, right?”

“Ummm, yes but I’m afraid that I don’t know who you are and if you didn’t notice, Trader Joe’s is jammed today with people everywhere.  Sorry, I really have to get back to work..”

“Oh, come on, wait a minute, what’s the rush?”

“What part of I don’t know you do you fail to understand?”

“Wow!  And after we spent so much quality time together!”

“Excuse me?”

“High school, we used to sit next to each other in Mrs. Klein’s English Lit class.”

“7th Period?    Oh my God, Steve… Steve Altman?”

“That would be me!  Wow, have I changed all that much?”

“Well, let’s be honest here, it’s been 47 years, we aren’t those kids anymore!”

“I had no problem recognizing you, except for the blonde hair and eyeglasses and…you aren’t wearing that sweater that you had on at our reunion.”

“Please, stop there, quit while you’re ahead, Steve.   I’m sorry if I was rude.  Gosh, I forgot about our 25th reunion.”

“Hey, no problem, it happens to me, a lot.  And to think I almost asked you to our senior prom, but…”

“Oh please, that I do not recall.  You only spoke to me in class and outside of that room we passed in the hall when we changed periods where you barely acknowledged me.  You were going to ask me to the prom…but?”

“You were seeing that guy Ronnie, weren’t you, the one who dumped that girl Joanie so he could take you to the prom?  That was quite the scandal in our corner of the lunchroom. Boy, she hated you, probably still does.”

“I’m sure she’s gotten over it by now, Steve unless, of course, she runs into you and it gets thrown up to her once again.”

“I heard you and Ronnie broke up a couple of years after graduation.”

“Yes, we did.  Ancient history, hardly something I ever think about.  Still practicing law, still married, kids?”

“Talk about a fast change of subject.  Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with that question.”

“Ahhh yes, still an Attorney, I see.  Well, I’m not on the stand but I do take the fifth.  And, the answers to my questions on your marriage situation, kids?”

“Yes to both, you?”

“Almost 41 years now, three kids, four Grandkids.”

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic…you?”

“It’s all relative, people go through so many changes over the years, you know?  Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Patty?”

“Sarcasm?  No, more like honesty.  Growing older sucks, especially when there’s still so much you want to do while time just clicks away, faster and faster.  Speaking of time, I really have to get going, Steve.”

“That’s too bad.  I was hoping we could catch up on more of that ancient history but just have to mention that I’ll always remember that one afternoon in class.”

“And what afternoon was that?”

“That Friday, in November of 1963, you came to class late and interrupted Mrs. Klein while she was teaching, you were all upset and she wouldn’t listen to you.  She yelled at you to take your seat just as the announcement came over the loudspeaker.”

“I remember as if it were yesterday.  Mrs. Klein was furious with me and when I tried to tell her what I heard, she told me not to spread rumors. As I kept trying, she demanded that I get into my seat at once and Sydney started laughing. Remember him? Boy, that was so out of character for her to lose her temper in class, especially with me, I was one of her favorite students.”

“Her anger turned to tears when we all heard what the principal had to say and Sydney was the first one to run out of the classroom. He was the class clown, a jerk who had no idea of that tragedy. All he cared about was getting out of school.”

“Yes, that was a horrible scene and I’ll never forget those words…President Kennedy has been assassinated, school is dismissed.  Most of us just sat there, in shock. Mrs. Klein put her head down on the desk and sat there, crying. Sad, sad memory.  Well, on that note, I have to run.   It was good seeing you again, Steve.”

“Good seeing you too Patty, just remember that you can’t run forever.  Memories have a way of bringing people together again if only in their dreams.”

 

Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #14: Talk It Out

For this week’s prompt, we’d like you to tell us a story using only dialogue. That’s right. There can be no “he said/she said,” no modifiers at all in fact. Just conversation, plain and simple, between quotes. Not that you necessarily have to use quotation marks…just look at Cormac McCarthy, he uses no quotations marks at all.  Tell a tale through conversation and dialogue between your “characters.” This can be fiction or non-fiction…and can even be poetry.

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