Sarah holds the door as her mother shuffles into the club.
Brunch every Sunday after Temple at the Boca Grande Golf and Country club. Father loved golf, a member for years.
A big smile from Cecelia, the hostess, greets us as she escorts us to mothers favorite table. A Mimosa, Mrs. Cohen? Teary-eyed, she remembers past days with Moisha when its placed in front of her.
Your father went far despite Auschwitz, Mother said with a blank gaze. You’re a good girl, Sarah, a good daughter.
***** This week our challenge is to edit our previous story with this prompt or create a new on. Due to time restrictions, I’ve added my edited story from April, 2015.
Although weakened by her chronic arthritis, she managed to make her usual egg, toast and coffee breakfast.
She enjoyed her quiet mornings. She’d never thought she would. Age had greatly slowed her vitality.
Eyeing her window garden, the sun shone brightly on it. She cherished it. Thomas had planted the herbs for her.
He was the sweetest caring grandson. He’d told her to add the herbs to her salads and foods everyday. He’d said they’d help with her arthritic pain. They did.
She’d never been much of a gardener but would hate to disappoint Thomas if they didn’t continue to grow.
Mom says she wants to travel. She’s thinking Europe; alone and at 75.
Where did she meet this friend, Jean, she plans to travel with all of a sudden?
My sister and I decide we should allow her this last frivolous adventure.
Safety Harbor Nursing Home can wait until she returns.
While she’s vacationing, we can put the house up for sale and gather what each of us wants from the many collectibles. Then, we’ll have our own European vacation.
In her mailbox arrives a postcard for us.
“Marrying Gene in Paris!” “He’s 65 and hot to trot”. “Tomber amoureux!”
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
This poem was written for Maud Goone for which he had a vey complicated relationship of unrequited love. In deep depression from the death of her two year old he wrote the poem.
She was an Irish revolutionary who ended up marrying another man despite many proposals from Yeats. He himself would go on to marry another, but many see ‘When You Are Old’ as a poem highlighting the failed relationship with Goone.
The poem is seen as one that is filled with love, but the last stanza is dark; the speaker is reminding his former mistress that their love did not last, and this is something she should regret for the rest of her life.
William Butler Yeats, widely considered one of the greatest poets of the English language, received the 1923 Nobel Prize for Literature.
This is an encore of a previous entry for Friday Fictioneers. Our Purple Goddess has granted permisson to repeat our story since the photo prompt is having another go-round. Enjoy ….
The parade was on Sunday.
Nana was excited. She’d be driving Pop Pop’s antique car.
He’d purchased it at an auction. It took him 8 years to restore her.
Sadly, he never got to show her off.
“Will you be able to see, Nana?”, I asked.
“I’ll be dazzling wearing my wide brimmed yellow hat”, she beamed.
“But, the ophthalmologist said to limit your driving.”
“Lily, I wouldn’t miss showcasing your Pop Pop’s car for anything.”
She slept soundly, with a dazzling smile, that night.
I drove the car wearing her wide brimmed yellow hat.
The nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the hospital bedside.
“Your son is here,” she said to the old man.
She had to repeat the words several times before the patient’s eyes opened. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent.
He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man’s limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.
The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man’s hand and offering
him words of love and strength.
Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused.
Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital – the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.
Along towards dawn, the old man died.
The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse.
While she did what she had to do, he waited.
Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.
“Who was that man?” he asked.
The nurse was startled, “He was your father,” she answered.
“No, he wasn’t,” the Marine replied. “I never saw him before in my life.”
“Then, why didn’t you say something when I took you to him?”
“I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn’t here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed him, I stayed.
“I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His Son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him,” the Marine said. “What was this Gentleman’s Name?”
Namaste
I honor the place in you
in which the entire universe dwells.
I honor the place in you
which is of Love, and of Truth,
of Light and of Peace.
When you are in that place in you
and I am in that place in me.
We are One.
Cinderella was now 75 years old. After a fulfilling life with the now passed-away Prince, she happily sat upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with her cat named Alan for companionship. One sunny afternoon, out of nowhere, appeared the Fairy Godmother.
Cinderella said: “Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years?”
The Fairy Godmother replied: “Well, Cinderella, as you have lived a good, wholesome life since we last met, I have decided to grant you three wishes. Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?”
Cinderella was overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, almost under her breath, she uttered her first wish:
“I wish I was wealthy beyond comprehension.”
Instantly, her rocking chair was turned into solid gold. Cinderella was stunned. Alan, her old faithful cat, jumped off her lap and scampered to the edge of the porch, quivering with fear.
Cinderella said: “Oh thank you, Fairy Godmother!”
The Fairy Godmother replied: “It’s the least I can do. What does your heart desire for your second wish?”
Cinderella looked down at her frail body and said: “I wish I were young and full of the beauty of youth again.”
At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful youthful visage returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside her that had been dormant for years. And long forgotten vigor and vitality began to course through her very soul.
Then, the Fairy Godmother again spoke: “You have one more wish, what will you have?”
Cinderella looked over to the frightened cat in the corner and said: “I wish you to transform Alan my old cat into a beautiful and handsome young man.”
Magically, Alan suddenly underwent a fundamental change in his biological make-up, that, when complete, he stood before her a boy so beautiful – the likes of which – neither she nor the world had ever seen – so fair, indeed, that birds began to fall from the sky at his feet.
The Fairy Godmother again spoke: “Congratulations, Cinderella. Enjoy your new life!”
And, with a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, she was gone.
For a few eerie moments, Alan and Cinderella looked into each other’s eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most stunningly perfect boy she had ever seen.
Then Alan walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, and held her close in his strong, youthful arms. He leaned in close to her ear, whispered, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath:
“I bet you regret having me neutered now, don’t you?”
******Google Images
*****A friend sent me this funny Cinderella tale.
I think we all could use a little humor right now.
“ Nereida, meet me at our usual spot on the beach.”
~~~~~~
Memories rapidly flooded her mind. She remembered the first time they’d met. He was walking with his metal detector along the shore. She was photographing the hazy afternoon sky. He had glanced her way.
“Do you always photograph people passing by?”, he said.
“No, only the good looking ones,” she replied.
Thus, the beginning of what would turn out to be a whirlwind romance.
He’d found an antique timepiece that day. It would be her wedding gift.
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Inside the Mind of Isadora 