You were sunshine to me, pure sunshine. Even in the darkest moments, things were fine, everything was fine because we were together, because I was with you. I loved you. I love you. Whatever risks I took to be near you, to be with you were no problem. I had to do it. Just walking down the street holding on to you gave me a sense of pride. I felt fulfilled because I was doing something right with you. I felt alive. Those feelings were some of the best gifts that you and only you gave me. Now you are gone and I will never see you again. My lips kiss you on the head at a distance of thousands of miles. Goodbye, my darling. Thank you. We will meet again.
Archive for the ‘Family Life’ Category
Dry skin—the skin is very dry. The veins are blue, dark blue. They stand out in ways they didn’t before. The fingers are a little dirty on the outside. The nails are not in good shape. They need to be done with a nail file and done quickly. There is not enough hand or body lotion to make the inside and the outside of the hands look younger or better. They look like the hands of someone working hard tilling the land or doing hard lifting. The hands are a poor woman’s hands. They are not glamorous and they are not pretty.
She had them. Her eyes spoke without words. Their expression was deep and powerful. She was known as the woman with the brown eyes. The eyes told of her struggles, her attempts at getting things under control so that no one would guess the truth. She looked at you and it was understood. Her life wasn’t much good. She lived with her animals, her 3 dogs. They were the only family she had. She could count on her animals like she couldn’t count on people. Here they are, she would say. They are the children I never had. I love them and they love me. I can’t say the same for anyone else. Where are those people anyway? I don’t see them.
A long table, made of dark wood, possibly mahogany. Several people were seated around it. Everyone had cups of coffee in front of them, either cafe con leech or espresso. The women smiled and the men flirted with them. Someone came into the room. She was an elegantly dressed woman wearing a chic light brown business suit. On her head was a small black hat, the type that women used to choose when they are going to a cocktail party. Her left wrist was adorned with a shiny 18 carat gold and diamond/ruby bracelet. When they saw her, they all got up to greet her. She extended her hand to each and every one. The woman’s eyes shone. I am so glad to be here with you, she said. Being with my co-workers at this time of day is a treat. A man pulled out a chair for her. Here, Nadia. Please sit. She turned to look up at him. Thank you. You are so nice. Only for you, the man answered. I will remember these times long after they’re gone. She wiped a tear from her eyes. Enough. Let’s enjoy this. Waiter, more cafe con leche for all, please.
Proud. I am proud of my feelings. I could shout them out standing on the street. I could tell them all how much I love you. I could tell you what you will forever mean to me. But I can’t. Not even you must know. You must never guess. Perhaps you would look at me and not understand. I do not look like the type who loves deeply. Not me, with my simple little dress. The dress is off brown, a dirty type of off brown. The buttons are dark red. It is too big for me. It hides the real me. And my shoes are plain ordinary walking shoes, tied up with black shoe laces. I am a prim and repressed little thing to you. To you I am not a passionate woman. I am just invisible.
I know. Now I know where to go. Now I understand what it means. The medium shade of green, the peace, the calmness where nothing bad happens. It is where you and I were. It is near where you and I lived. The tranquility and you go together. They are with me always, in my heart and in my thoughts. We are always at the park surrounded by what we love. You and I are always smiling, and looking into each other’s eyes.
Oh, my dear! It is as if we were there now, this very minute. Just you and I together, side by side as in the old days. The heart doesn’t forget. My heart will never forget such a special friend. I love you. It was scary at first, but I did it. Loving is such a hard thing to do and one never knows how it will end. I chose you over all the others. It was you I wanted, you I stayed with, you I protected. We will probably not meet again. I want you to know this: being with you was worth it. I would do it over and over again, with the sun shining bright on us. The sun is shining bright on my thoughts of you.
She pressed her cheek against the fabric. The apron felt wet, like her mother had just finished in the kitchen. “How many dishes have you done today, Mama?’’ “Not many. But I did wash your clothes and your uniform.” She wished she was rich so that her mother wouldn’t have to do all that she did every day. “I don’t want you to be wet. Not you, Mama.” Her mother’s smile was thin and small. For a long time she hadn’t been able to think about anything except housework, the children and money. The money part was what worried her the most. No matter what people said to be polite, money did matter. Without it, there wasn’t much hope of anything for a single mother. The little girl, with her arms still around her mother’s waist, looked up. “I don’t care about your apron. I love you.”
The Grass and the Chandelier
There is a lawn with grass, smooth and silky looking green grass. A window, part of someone’s bedroom, is on the left; another window behind which there are tables, chairs and a dark green couch is on the right. A large white glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The exterior of the house is dark brown brick. This type of house is called a chalet, like the chalets in Switzerland. Stone steps, 4 or 5 steps, lead up to the porch. The main door of the house is made of wood and painted white. The kitchen is on the large side, with a door opening to a good-sized garden. Sun comes through the wide windows of the kitchen. The garden is big enough to build a studio or a 1 bedroom apartment. Someone walks up to the house. She turns her head to waive at the school bus driver and knocks on the door. A woman wearing an apron around her waist embraces the little girl. The woman’s cheeks are pink, almost red; her eyes shine like diamonds on an expensive bracelet. “Come, baby,” she says. “Yes, Mama. School was good today.”
My Little One
It has been years, almost eight. I left you behind, thinking you and I would be together one day again. I rescued you from the streets. Our walks were superb, long and hard, just the way you liked them. I had no way of knowing you would be gone. Your death far away will haunt me forever. Please forgive me.