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Friday, February 27, 2015

A Coulda Been Kind of Love *Short story*

1 January 2012 at 16:36
A Could Have Been Kind of Love 
A Short Story.


needs a bit of work


Midway through the service, she slipped quietly into the back row of the small chapel, adjusting her hat and small veil as she did so.  Her desire to be unrecognized fought with her need to run.  Although she herself had faced death, Lily had refused to look at it in the flesh. Today she would change that.  She listened to the remaining words being spoken by the minister, and sang quietly to herself the closing hymn, wondering what Daniel would have thought of it all.

 People began to rise and leave the chapel to the quiet tones of a classical piano and as she looked up, Lily noticed that the attendants were about to close the coffin.  As quickly and unobtrusively as possible, she made her way to the front and put her hand out to stop the closing.  She looked at Daniel, so vital in life, now looking almost like a hand painted statue.  She kissed two of her fingers and pressed them to his forhead whispering “Thank you”. She felt someone beside her and went to move on but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

 “Lily”. It was Sonya, former co-worker, friend and sometimes confidente whom she had not seen in eight years, for no reason other than there had just been no reason. Both busy women, busy lives filled with children and husbands.  “Daniel would have been surprised” Sonya said with a grin on her face. “I am too, for the record”.
“Sonnie! I thought I’d managed to creep in without notice.  Everyone else is at the door or outside.
“What did you mean by ‘Thank you’? Sonya asked.

 Lily removed her hat, she didn’t like wearing them and it was just another part of a mask she wore on a daily basis – another piece of costumery.  “He gave me my first job. That’s all.”
 “But why come in at the end? I mean, it was a lovely service and I’m sure his brothers would have loved to have seen you. Are you okay?”

 Lily gave Sonya a quick hug , “I’m fine, just facing demons and revisiting a few memories.  Tell me, what was the date of his death?” she asked as she quickly put her hat back on and glanced at the waiting attendants.
 “The 5th, why do you ask? Sonya replied with a curious look on her face.
“I’m sorry Sonnie – really, I…I must go.  Maybe we’ll catch up again soon.  I’m in the book.”  And in saying so she walked quickly down the aisle of the small chapel into the brightness of the outside world, snaking her way through the gathering of mourners that had formed at the front of the chapel.  Keeping her head down low, she made her way towards her car. Halfway down the rose lined pathway she heard her name called out in a voice she never thought she would hear again.

  “Lily!  Lily!”  She kept walking, pretending not to have heard over the voices of the crowd.
“Daisy!” Lily stopped dead. No one else had ever called her by that name.
 Nathan. The tall older brother, the only one of the four she had really gotten along with.  Max she never really knew, Daniel was the boss and Jeremy was – well, Jeremy was Jeremy.  She spent half her time avoiding his clutches, the other half despairing she’d ever get anything right if Jason, the Manager, had his way.

 Lily started to walk again but her hesitation had given Nathan the chance to catch up with her.  “Daisy, stop.” His hand reached out and held her by the elbow. She looked up into his faded blue eyes, noting at the same time the strength that emanated from presence. He did not look like a man in his sixties.

 “Nate…I must go” she started to pull away needing desperately to leave.”
“Why did you come then my Daisy? If not to pay your respects to Daniel and the family?”
 Lily sighed, “I really….I don’t….no-one has called me Daisy in over 20 years Nathan…I just…”she searched desperately for an answer that would satisfy.

“Lily….no – Daisy…it suited you much more.  I always thought that Lillies were the flower for funerals, and you weren’t meant for funerals…Lily….why?”

With barely a whisper, Lily replied “You.  I came because of you.”
 Nate was silent and still.  He reached out and pulled Lily closer, removed her hat and looked down into her face.  “You’re still my Daisy, Lily.  And I’ve not forgotten – never forgotten you.  Come, we need to talk.”  And in saying so he lead her towards the Garden of Remembrance, where white bench seats were scattered amongst the standard rose Memorial beds, surrounded by a rainbow of smaller flowering plants, Lilies and Daisys included, all of which was so perfectly manicured it was almost surreal.

 “Lily.  It’s been twenty years.  I may be an old man but there is nothing wrong with my memory.  I’ve not seen you since….”
 “Nate – it isn’t necessary, it really isn’t, I’ve got to go….”
He cut her off. “No. I need to say this. I had no right!” Lily’s eye’s flashed as she spoke sharply
“So you regret it then – it was nothing?  I turned you down, as simple as that! It was nothing, so why  bring it up?

“No, no I don’t regret it.” He reached out and stroked her hair.  “I often think of you when the Daisies fill the garden – I’m sure Gail must think I’m barmy, a sixty year old man mooning over a flower.  I’ve always had Daisys in the garden…all different types.” Lily sat quietly, her cheeks burning. “Lily, why did you really come today?”

 “So you and Gail got married then?” Lily asked trying to change the subject.  I don’t read the newspaper…it was happenstance that I saw Daniel’s funeral notice.  I just wanted to say thank you to him…being my first boss, and a good one.” She gave a bitter laugh, “I’ve had some rotters over the years.”

 “No, Gail and I never did get married.  We’ve been together for nearly twenty-six years and never really thought a piece of paper would make a difference.  No more, no less.”  So – your turn

 Yet another sigh, how much to tell?  With her head down, hiding again, she began. “Nathan, I’m a forty year old woman with a husband and children that I love……really love! But I always felt something was just….missing from me.  I’ve always felt kind of, outside of myself.  Like I wasn’t really inside me being me.  I felt that I wasn’t who I was supposed to be.”  She halted, wondering how to go on.

 “Nate, I had a dream.  In it were you and your brothers – Daniel was so young it was like a shock.  He was as young as the day he interviewed me, which really…well – you know, he was in his thirties but he was so vital and young and I thought it was Max….or maybe one of his sons. Nathan,” she looked everywhere, anywhere but at him and focused on a carpet of white alyssum. “I dreamed it the day he died.”

 At Nathan’s sharp intake of breath she looked at him briefly, but it was long enough.  He was right, he could always read her well.  Every thing she felt, he used to say, was in her eyes and she could never get away from those tells that would show. At least, not with him.  “Go on.”

 “It was like a reunion of sorts, everyone was there from the old days, everyone except for Jason thank goodness.  But it was focused on you brothers.  I saw Daniel, he gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek, Max and Jeremy the same although Jeremy tried to push it.

 “Then you came in and I just…you held me so tight….so tight….and you kissed me.  Not like your brothers, not like a friend, you really kissed me.”  Nathan took her face in his hands, stroking each cheek with his thumbs. Lily didn’t notice as her tears flowed, feeling more than a little embarrassed.   “That day you took me home, you have no idea how much….how much I really did want you to kiss me, to hold me too….I just…..the dream – the dream, that feeling was…is everything I have been looking for I think.  I have never, in my life experienced the emotion of love that strongly – in reality…that I felt in that dream.  God help me – I was only twenty! I knew nothing, not really. All I knew was that even though I said no, it was a choice I made.  Whether it was right or wrong has no bearing on my life except that the dream brought to me what love should feel like.

 As she spoke, her head had dropped lower and lower. She could no longer look at Nathan.  She didn’t want to see the rejection, she didn’t want to face him but he lifted her face towards his with his finger and looked steadily into her eyes. “I loved you you know.  I always have, and I always will. You’ll always be my little Daisy…as old as you are” He laughed softly as he saw her cheeks flush “It’s one of those things….it’s a ‘could have been’ kind of love”.

 “Which wasn’t fair on Gail” Lily stopped him. “And that’s why I stopped you.”
 “And that’s why you resigned?” Nathan asked softly.
 Lily shook her head adamantly.  “No!  Oh, it would have been a bit awkward but Jason came back.  He left not long after I resigned the first time. He was the reason then, and he was the reason the last time as well. He made it so difficult to…to just do anything right!” She shook with remembered fury and helplessness.

“So many times I would be doing something and he would take over and he would condescendingly show me how to do something”.  I was having difficulties with my landlord…but no, it was Jason, always Jason.  Infuriating, frustrating, bullying....”
 “Daisy….we need to….Lily….I want to….” Nathan stammered to a stop and gave up.  Instead, he leaned forward and softly kissed Lily, gently at first and then with a growing intensity.  “And that my beautiful Daisy is something I’ve waited twenty years for”.

Lily looked up at her former employer and smiled through her tears.  “And that, Nathan, is exactly how it felt in the dream.  Thank you.  For making a dream come true”.  At that, Lily picked up her hat and walked away, not looking back, only forward.

 When she got home, she held her husband close and whispered in his ear “I love you”, and, when the children got home from school she held them so tightly they squirmed with embarrassment complaining that it "hurts  mummy" and don't squeeze do hard mummy".

 Several months later, a large envelope from a solicitor’s office was delivered to her door requiring her signature.  Opening it curiously, she peered inside to find two sealed envelopes, one with hand writing vaguely familiar, the other – not recognizable at all.  Shrugging she opened the first one and saw the signature.  It was Nathan’s.  “To my Daisy…I asked Gail to marry me the day of Daniel’s funeral.  We got married six weeks later.  Thank you, Daisy, for everything you ever meant to me and for your loyalty to a woman you never met.  Our time in the garden will be with me for the rest of my days. All my love Lily, Nate.”


A warm feeling filled her as Lily opened the second letter, this time the signature read Gail.  “Dear Lily, as I’m sure Nathan would have written in his letter, we got married finally, after all those years.  So many marriages fail before they even reach the end of their first year, I think we both felt afraid it would happen to us. Relationships change with marriage and we liked what we had. But after Daniel’s funeral, Nathan changed.  He told me what happened in the garden, but I knew anyway…I saw you both and as I watched, I could see it for what it was.  A completion of something that began a long time ago. I never knew what part of himself he kept hidden, I do now and I thank you from the bottom of my heart that you gave him the opportunity to give of himself to me fully.  At fifty-eight years old I was a blushing bride!

 But I had him as a husband just a short time, and I think he knew that was going to be the case because we discussed you and he and all of us, what his wishes were..  He died in his sleep three weeks ago, peacefully, quietly, with a smile on his face.  He didn’t want you to know because he wanted you to remember him as he was.  As he put it ”A bit of a dodderer but still good for a wave or two”. He loved his surfing. We scattered his ashes over the water at his request, and no notices were put in the newspaper.  He said to tell you “Daisy, just remember the ‘could have been kind of love’”.

With my sincerest regards, Gail.

MadMikkie's Random Blogs: Cats - the owner/occupier?

MadMikkie's Random Blogs: Cats - the owner/occupier?: Our political parties in our state have decided to expand their so called 'Fox Task-force' to include feral and stray cats, as well ...

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Special Memories of Special People

Wandered around my current favourite haunt - took a fair while - and my mind just wandered around as well.  Mayhap it's the upcoming 30 year High School Anniversary Reunion that is loosening these memories but I realised today just how precious and special they are.  While I've been thinking back a lot since starting Lovan, today was special.

Today was about those first tentative teenage kisses, the bold as brass because you haza de alkyhole inside you....the one where "The D's" were heading down the street towards two underage teenagers who had already had a bit too much alcohol.....the kiss that only has me left to remember it because during some school holidays, he was killed in a tragic vehicle accident.  I figured that as Shaun was most definately more inebriated than myself, the D's would be rather interested....so we did the whole fake hot and heavy in an empty lot just down the street. They didn't seem to notice that I was the same girl who plonked herself on the lap of another over-inebriated teenage male to stop him from getting up and having a go at them.  The D's - in case you didn't figure it - were the Police, and unlike the band, were very much inclined to turn  up to Elizabeth College dances because we happened to be the rowdiest of the Colleges.

If I 'went home' with anyone that night, it was only as far as the bus stop, and it was with the boy that had my heart through most of high school and college. Yes, I did have huge feelings for the boyfriends I had in grade 10.  It scared me how much love I felt....and I guess in a way, still do.  But this fellow...there's still a soft and gooey spot inside for him. He literally was the first boy who made my toes curl and my foot lift.  

Gosh if I didn't have to go and put my children to bed, I could go on forever.
.



Tuesday, January 13, 2015

THEN-TIME


Today I was having a while of contemplation (is this why they call it whiling away the hours?) waiting for the bus to take me home after dropping our pretty girl off at the service station for a service.  As I relaxed in the cool air, I began to wonder, at what point did we start seeing in our memory, our youthful selves in the locations frequented (or even just a single time) at that time? At what point did making memories become remembering them?  Some places just require a scent of significance, others a brief memory of an event and still others, a ritual or habit of the then-time.

Yesterday....I popped into an op shop for a browse (to remind myself I'm not a size 10 anymore lol) and picked up a little sachet of lavender.  I don't even know when lavender stopped being an 'old' person's plant and became one of my favourites but I found it amazing when I sniffed this particular sachet, I was instantly transported in my memory, back to 1979 - the Strathgordon Primary School trip to Melbourne.  In particular, Sovereign Hill - Ballarat.  The lolly shop....to be even more precise.  More than that - I don't know if the lavender inside was mixed with another herb, just plain old or, a different variety but I had purchased another sachet of lavender only a week earlier and it's scent was different.

The way our brains are wired is just awesome.  Once in a while I will smell just the right smell of Sunsilk shampoo or Pears shampoo, both of which remind my of my Nan.  As does the smell of Ponds cream when the right person uses it. There are so many types of creams available now that I don't even know which one is the one she used. And it is the body's chemistry that affects a change in how we smell - and how something smells to us!

We can take..........Brut 33!  I remember smelling it in the bottle - and it was yummy.  Then the bathroom at home - when dad had had a shower.....if I didn't know it was Brut 33 I would never have guessed.  Then a high school boyfriend (or possibly more than one since it was a popular after shavey thing), John Snare - the smell of it on his New Town High School cardy/jacket - SO much nice than smelling it elsewhere, not to mention how it smelled on him!  We shall stop there.

Sadly, my computer time has come to an end again - children!  They're fed, and will soon be pyjama'd and tooth brushed and I might get 10 m inutes of peace before they start mucking around in their bedrooms.
I never seem to be able to find that moment wherer I can let all my thoughts loose in my brain.  The sound of my children calling 'mummy' seems to wipe my mind like a magnet did to a cassette tape.

And why do I need to be sitting at the bus stop with just a teeny keyboard for such complex thoughts that requires scribing app I don't forget.
I like my "BUS STOP" moments....good for clearing the cranial dustbunnies away

Monday, November 17, 2014

Shards

Always back up your data.  Always. Always. Always.  I was taught better than what I had been practising.  Thank God I had at some point managed to back up most of my website writing documents onto my external hard drive.  There would have been a lot inaccessible until I'd managed to mount my other HD into this particular computer.  So, now that I'm breathing a little easier....and because it's Monday Morning and I'm 2 bodies short of awake children....a cheat.  This one is a song - with no music....as is usual






SHARDS
Running on the edge of a razor blade
wondering which side Is the bed I made
Don't look forwards, don't look back
thoughts in-turned to keep on track
Dancing on the edge of razor wire
one side hell and one side fire
Can't move to the back nor to the for
When did we begin this war.
Sitting still I often wonder
sit so still and linger longer
on memories and all the times
I felt the need to apologise
For things I did and didn't do,
for things I thought and hoped were true
Like watching shapes within the clouds
but all they were, were crying clowns.

Standing on the shards of broken glass
Being brave and being crass
Breaking up inside myself
I put myself back on the shelf.
Stepping on the tips of rusty nails
I thought I looked beyond the pale
found myself locked within its gates
It's gone to far it's far too late.

Blowing wishes in the air
Watch them float without a care
To become a weed in someone's life
Create a mess of grief and strife
Wishing that the grass was green
This side of the fence it seems
Pandora's box is opened wide
And all but hope is left inside

Running on the edge of a razor blade
wondering which side Is the bed I made
Don't look forwards, don't look back
thoughts in-turned to keep on track
Standing on the shards of broken glass
Being brave and being crass
Breaking up inside myself
I put myself back on the shelf.
Stepping on the tips of rusty nails
I thought I looked beyond the pale
found myself locked within it's gates
It's gone to far it's far too late.
Dancing on the edge of razor wire
one side hell and one side fire
Can't move to the back nor to the for
When did we begin this war.

Cats cradle with a spiders web
Stuck by fear inside my head
In case of fire please break the glass
All good things they will come to pass
Til that time it's barbed wire fences
Idle thoughts and idle dances
watching through a mirror so dark
reflecting what is inside my heart

Running on the edge of a razor blade
wondering which side Is the bed I made
Don't look forwards, don't look back
thoughts in-turned to keep on track
Dancing on the edge of razor wire
one side hell and one side fire
Can't move to the back nor to the for
When did we begin this war.
 .

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Sea Glass

Today I sat and listened.
 




 I went on a mission for sea glass and came away so relaxed it didn't hurt to climb the hill back home.



More than that...I listened to the water. To the different sounds it makes as it's waves form, crest and break.....and the sound the rocks make on this section of foreshore. The rocks here croak. Yes, they do!  As the water runs back out into the river, the movement of the water and rocks together sound very much like Kermit with a head cold.


With realising that I was not hearing frogs and an extended amount of time on hands and knees as I searched for sea glass (and gave some walkers the sea glass bug it seemed), I also realised the cyclical nature of that which is glass and that which becomes sea glass.





And of the tactile nature of sand....and grit....and stones....such a soothing hand massage I had as I rubbed my hands thoroughly through the shell grit and pebbles.  It's a shame that it was still too cool a spring morning to be taking my boots off and giving my feet the same sort of 'pebble rub therapy'.  Can I patent this or has it already been done!??

Sunday, April 27, 2014

....and a catfish named Francis.




As part of my new found sanity....or new found obsessiveness, I bought a lovely, huge, fully glazed pottery bowl from Mitre 10 in Kingston.  For the record - I had it on lay-by because it was the only way it was affordable.  My plan was to grow water plants and gold fish in it.  So I get it all set up and go get me some gold fish whom I named Thelma and Louise ( but of course) and thought - right - that's it.  However it became clear after a few days, that these fish were depressed....and so began my quest for a fish tank.

I've not had fish for over a decade so I had to start over and the best thing I could think of that might get things moving was a post on Hobart Freecycle.  It  worked and I ended up with a tank or two (both needing extra silicon), multiple pumps and in one instance - I got a fish as well.

Once the children realised there were goldfish in the bowl outside they became a little difficult to tear away from watching these poor fish in the tank.  Yes, Thelma and Louise perked right up once they got in the tank - and the water temperature was the same....and the pH level was also the same - perfect.  I bought two more fish in the hopes of cheering Thelma and Louise up even more - and a catfish.  And so began the children's naming of the fish.  



1 - Princess Yellow (Isaiah) 
2 - Boo (Elijah)
3 - Prince Gold (Micah)
4 - Bill - the Freecycle fish ( Malachi)
5 - Thelma or Louise (me)
6 - Francis the catfish (Malachi)

To date - each child has requested to feed the fish at various times of the day.  They've also taken to schmoodling the elderly cat, Fifi and, it's not strange to see the three younger ones perched on the desk next to the fish tank, watching the fish swim.  This, I think, is a good thing.  It is calming them.  Alas - the one who needs it right now due to his reaction to his asthma steroids, isn't doing it.  Poor sausage!  

Anyway - I'm starting to feel blissed out with my plants and fish.  I wish the body felt the same as today I have an overload of cold sores that developed overnight, a whopper headache and my sinuses are cactus plus, mouse number 6 was caught in the trap.  First one in a week but still!


Cheers

M.