My favorite flower has always been a sweet little summer daisy. It has been all my life ever since my mom would buy those pretty little artificial-scented daisy air fresheners with the yellow and white daisy on the plastic or paper packaging. If you’re around my age you know the ones I’m talking about. Everyone used a daisy air freshener back in the 60s and 70s they made the toilet bowl smell so good every time you flushe...
I remember when winter came and you would come inside Your hands would be as cold as ice You would put them so close to the heater I could see the pain as the warmth would slowly return You never let on that they were hurting The whippings as a child you gave me You cried much more than I When the day came that I was leaving Going out on my own How your eyes mixed with pain and pride. I left and returned many times You ta...
Getting up to the attic is a chore these days. Hell, some mornings just getting out of bed is a chore. Still on the right side of the lawn though, which is something. So full of history up here. The weight of it lies heavy on my shoulders at times. Featherlight at others. Dusty boxes labeled with memories line the walls. Lone bulb flickering, doing its best to keep the light going. I know how it feels. Grampy used to come...
Always a car-sleeper as a young girl, I would awaken to the sound of gravel beneath the tires. To this day, that sound excites me, bringing back memories of simpler times. One week each summer, my twin sister and I were transported to what seemed like a different era and country, although in actuality it was just two hours west of our home. We never knew what our parents did after they dropped us off. It never mattered be...
“I really despise this couch. Everything about it. You need to get a new one, or I’ll stop coming to these little chats.” “Focus, Daniella,” the therapist’s voice is low and colorless, like a forced kind of calming. “You were going to tell me about that night in the village, please, let’s just stick to talking about what happened that night.” Daniella fidgets, her lithe frame squirming as if her tattoo-covered skin is cra...
It's funny how a name can take you back, revive forgotten memories, put you in touch with a simpler, more secure time. It normally happens unexpectedly as well, puts you off your guard. Take this morning. I'm coming down the stairs ready to head off to the office, the recent rumours of redundancies bouncing around my head. I walk into the kitchen and my wife is sitting at the table, over a cup of coffee, poring over the l...
She smiled at many of her memories, including her childhood adventures even her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren only believed when they are very young. Her brothers understood, since they shared those adventures, and often the three of them laughed about it. The wind blew the dormer window open suddenly, startling the old woman. Then she chuckled at her reaction. So much had happened in her life. The w...
Our “mamad” (a protected room in an apartment constructed with reinforced concrete to withstand anything but a direct impact from a conventional projectile) doubles as a TV room and contains bookshelves and a work niche. On the second shelf above the desk is a small chest reminiscent of a pirate’s treasure chest. It contains most of the coins I had in my pockets while traveling through various countries. Our grandchildren...
He opened the door to his old hut. It had been years since he’d been here. He never could bring himself to sell it, even after his mother passed on. So much had happened since that one day. His name became famous throughout the land and opened so many opportunities. He made some mistakes, but he learned who he could trust and who he could not. He found himself successful beyond his dreams and he and his mother never had t...
“Ah, yes,” she says, taping the old photograph, “that’s my father’s shop. The awning was green and, look, you can see Bevan’s Greengrocery painted on the window. Those boxes outside were heavy but I used to stack them and arrange the display.” “When you were a child?” “I wasn’t afraid of hard work,” she says proudly. “And do you remember the shops either side?” “I remember the whole street. Mr Davison the fishmonger was...
Ten forty-five they cut your cord, late evening in September. The miracle of childbirth, was a night that I'll remember. You took a breath before you cried, a sound that gave me pleasure. I picked you up in swaddling cloth, my precious newborn treasure. The first time you rolled over, you tried so hard to crawl. Now your feet have learned to walk, you've overcome it all. Several little pearl-white teeth, behind your...
I remember attic fans in the summer and radiators in the winter and if you backed into it trying to get warm, you burnt your ass. I remember linoleum floors. Stovetop percolators. Gas stoves you had to light with wooden matches. I remember glass bottles of milk with cardboard stoppers on the porch. Wall phones with 15-foot cords hanging in the kitchen. Screen doors with long springs to close them. Loudly. I remember rugs,...
I come up on deck laughing... then freeze, instantly transported in time. That smell, that unforgettable cloying aroma of funnel cake and sunburned skin leaves me reeling mid-laughter. I start trembling where I stand, unprepared for the whirring picture reel of memories that appear unbidden behind blindly staring eyes. I don't notice Bob talking. I don't notice anything except the screams of children living life at their...
Donna would tell she was in her late eighties, just not how late. She always had a smile and if she could get her hands on you, even a bigger hug. She had fallen and I went to the hospital to check on her As I got to the door. I heard voices. Thinking the doctor was with her I waited I heard Donna's voice begin to tell one of her many stories. Her words took me in as I closed my eyes and listened. She told of growing up...
