Posts Tagged ‘Family Life’

The Invalid

April 14, 2017

The Invalid

You still don’t understand. You were not there. You don’t know. I saw him when he was sick. I saw him at his worst; I thought it was about over for him. He lay in bed with his eyes closed. I would touch him to feel his pulse. Fine, I would say. It’s fine. I’m so happy. You’re still with us. The minute he opened his eyes he looked around the room. The sadness he must have felt was heartbreaking. I didn’t dare ask him, but I knew. He wanted his family. He wanted to see them. He didn’t care about anything or anybody else. I could imagine his wondering if they’d come back from that far away country. Nobody except them was allowed to hug or kiss him. I wanted to comfort him many times, but something held me back. I cared deeply for his welfare, yet I had to pretend to him that we were almost strangers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eyes

February 3, 2017

Eyes

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.

 

 

 

Never

October 18, 2016

Never

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.

 

 

The Grass and the Chandelier

October 5, 2016

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

September 25, 2016

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.

 

 

 

 

 

Again

September 14, 2016

Again

I look at pictures of our old places, our old haunts. I want to be there again. I know I can’t. The places wouldn’t mean much without you. They wouldn’t mean anything if you are not with me. The clothes you wore when we went out. I have kept them all these years. It doesn’t matter if they are old; they mean everything to me. They are yours. Even if you are gone, never to return, they are yours, an important part of our life together. You taught me what that word—together—means. It is two beings walking on the same street, side by side, with the sun always shining. It is companionship at its highest level.

 

 

 

 

Head Off

September 3, 2016

A chicken with its head cut off–she sighed and turned to look the other way. She felt like those poor chickens art a live poultry place just before they’re taken by the legs to be slaughtered. How much more of this, of this need to cry, to express her feelings some how, some way? Something on TV caught her eye. A little girl, no more than 2, whose life was saved by a miracle. Tears flowed down her face. It was dark and nobody saw her. The tears helped. She felt in control. She was human instead of a smiling robot.

How

July 5, 2016

The days when we were together are gone.You were my secret treasure. I could not not love you. I could not want to be with you. Being with you saved me. I looked at you and my unfortunate circumstances disappeared as if by magic. I would have risked anything for you. I woke up in the morning with a purpose. You were my goal.

Many

June 11, 2016

Many

How many? How many have there been? She lost count. She can’t remember. She probably doesn’t want to remember. The mere mention of the word move makes her cringe. If she could hide under the bed, under somewhere, and make all of it go away! But she’s not a coward. Whatever else she is, she is not that. Now there nothing to do, but go forward, whatever that means. Now she’ll get together the suitcases, the books, the clothes, the china, the pots and plants. The china reminds her of home. The saucers and cups and teapots give her a feeling of comfort. She makes believe she belongs.

The Circles

June 10, 2016

The Circles

From here to there and from one place to another—that’s how she did it. She survived; she put in her best effort. At times it was hopeless. She felt like asking herself: Why am I doing this? Why do I even bother? There has to be a reason. There has to be something I can use this for. There wasn’t anything she saw—not at first glance. Time passed. She seemed to be making no progress. She got older, older and wiser—or just plain older. She didn’t know anymore. What could she think? Who could she ask? Where to put herself? Where could she be safe and secure?