Tag: writing

Quiet Dignity

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Frank ‘died as he lived in quiet dignity’, these word were engraved on his headstone.

Frank died in 1979 quietly and without fuss just like his father before him.   He was taken with Motor Neurone Disease, unlike Frank Senior who had gone to bed at the age of 98 after shaking everybody’s hand and saying goodbye.  Fit as a fiddle they said he was but he had decided it was his time, he had, had enough so he went to bed and waited to die.

Frank didn’t say much even before he got sick, he was happy sitting in his chair with paper and pipe or pottering in his garden tending to the vegetables that would grace the Sunday dinner table each week.  Frank would stand at the head of the table to sharpen the knife on the old steel before perfectly slicing the roast beef.  It was a family ritual and silence prevailed while Frank sliced the joint onto the serving platter.  After he was finished he would sit quietly and eat his lunch while the family chattered away.  Frank didn’t need to say much because his wife Francis could fill any gaps, she had plenty to say.

After he went the family wanted a nice gravestone for Frank, something fitting for a much loved husband and  father.  Black and shiny with enough space for Francis’s name when she followed him as she did twenty odd years later.

After her death they moved the gravestone to open the plot for Francis, a double plot so they could be together.   Another lovely service and everyone went off wiping their eyes remembering a lovely old couple.  After the funeral no one really visited as is the case often with all the best intentions.  Life is for the living and as much as the dead are loved they don’t tend to get many visits.

It was a number of years later when I was driving through the town I remembered my grandparents graves and stopped off.  Frank’s headstone was still under the tree where it had been moved to let the grave settle, it had never been put back and Francis had never been added to the space on the headstone.   I was shocked, angry, sad and then almost immediately okay with it.  Gran might have been ‘mortified’ as was her favourite word, not to have been included, but to me it just fitted, the headstone quietly sitting under the tree in quiet dignity.

 

 

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Connection

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Daily Word Prompt – Connected

In life we’re connected and that’s good, I like being connected.  Take WordPress, I love reading the posts of the blogs I follow.  For me it’s a bit like purification, being washed with words that evoke feelings.  Today post have made me laugh and cry in the space of a few hours.  I’ve contemplated the lives of others with sadness and joy, I’ve read and shared some dreams and I’ve laughed out loud because my sense of the ridiculous has been tickled.  I feel connected, I feel part of a community that I like and relate to.

But, I need your help as my inbox is full to brimming with email notifications on blogs I follow.  I’m keen to see them but would much rather find them on ‘reader’ so I don’t miss the important work emails I need to see.  In great anticipation I hope my connections can point me in the right direction.

Purpose

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Purpose, what do I have to offer, why might I be of use?

This is a difficult question to answer, if I set out my stall and you don’t like what I have to offer then I’m left with it.  So it might be easier if I keep it under wraps for a while, at least until I know what you are looking for anyway.

That’s the thing with being up front, purposeful in our approach sometimes, we risk getting knocked back.

If I do have a purpose, it should be firstly to be of worth in some way, be of value and keep you interested.  I need to be honest and reliable ‘do what it says on the tin’ at least, and last a good while.  I need to improve with age and be desired, collectable maybe!

Angry Me

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Daily Word Prompt – Angry

I don’t really want to write about anger, it’s not an emotion I wish to own. But if pushed on anger and I would have to be pushed, I would say circumstances can cause me to be angry more than anything else. Serious illness touching the good and undeserved, like my mother who was taken from us way too early and others I have loved and lost. Unfairness, cruelty, unkindness to others, including animals, the list is endless when it comes to pushing my buttons. Maybe I do experience more anger than I initially gave myself credit for, but it’s the injustice I find in life that upsets me and stirs up my emotions.  Maybe it’s not anger after all, maybe it is just sadness at the unfairness in the world sometimes.

If another person who has angers me, I usually make excuses for them after a while being Virgo the pacifist!  I find it difficult holding onto anger and have to kick myself to maintain it, I know this is stupid but it’s the way I am, full of excuses.  I sulk, yes do I sulk, I have also been called passive aggressive once or twice but it eventually moves on as it should.

Back in the day I could do anger, I made a reputation of it as a teenager or worked hard at it anyway. Living on an inner city estate in London, you had to be tough or at least put on an act to that effect. Walking around with an angry look on your face was your protection, although that might just be just another false memory as most of the photos I have hold a big stupid grin.

I can remember being angry, pushing my mother in a wheelchair with her oxygen cylinder attached and a man barging past us without any consideration.  Well I let rip at him and turned the air blue with my profanities.   But it was probably more to do with the situation we were in rather than his actions and just having to let it explode out of me.  That’s the problem, we often let off about something else completely, keeping the real cause of our distress buried deep inside.

I have worked with many young people over the years who have been traumatised by their early experiences. Many of these young people have been understandably angry and presented that anger through their behaviour, I can’t remember it ever doing them any good.  When these raw emotions are turned into something positive it can be life changing for these kids.  I love the quote ‘Don’t get mad, get even‘ and when these young people turn their lives around by channeling the anger in the right direction, that is exactly what they are doing.

If we can channel those emotions into something else and anything is possible.  When anger surfaces, let it come, acknowledge and consider if it can be put to use positively by channeling it in another direction if not let it move on.

Stillness

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My mother took my hand last night. She led me to a place of being, where I could just be still and rest in that stillness.

I could see her hand but no more, I followed because I could feel and I trusted in that. I understood her intent, although we did not speak. I knew there was no need for words.

I sat and just was. I didn’t think, I didn’t look around, I just was. I was everything there ever was and everything that will ever be.

I accepted and was and here today, I am.

Circus

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Daily Prompt Word – Circus

The circus in town doesn’t appeal to me, for animals I feel should wonder free.

Times you went to see beasts not yet seen, are over now, they can be seen on the screen.

I can see why you might want to see trapeze, yes it’s amazing, I can see it would please.

But the days of big lions, bright tigers and apes, have left us behind now, a big mistake.

Circuses I’m sure were big in the day, but that was now long ago and where it should stay.

Roll up, roll up, now quickly come and see, the discovery channel on your TV.

The Find

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Ella saw the carpet at the car boot sale. It was draped across a chest of draws, there was something about it that drew her in. On inspection it was covered in dust, but it kind of spoke to her.  She could see the rich reds underneath the dust and grime, it spoke of adventures.

A man who had come along to the stall after Ella was also trying to look at the carpet, but she was there first and therefore had first dibs. ‘There is a beautiful carpet over the way too’ he said, pointing off across the boot sale, ‘Why don’t you take a look if you like carpets’.  Well there are no flies on Ella and this was all she needed to give her the push  to make up her mind.  Ella paid £40 for the carpet, as that was the very lowest the trader would accept and left it with him to continue her walk around the boot sale.  It was meant to be she thought to herself, she never had more than a few pounds on her when she visited the boot sale, she came for a walk in the sun and a rummage usually.  Today she just happened to have the money she owed her sister in her purse.

When Ella returned later to collect the carpet, the trader laughed as he told her the other guy was really upset to have missed out on the carpet.  He knew all about it from its markings, he knew it was a good carpet and knew the region it was made, he had been furious to be beaten on this find.  The trader told her he now thought he had been mistaken to let it go so cheaply, Ella laughed and shook his hand as she left with the carpet.  Luckily she had help from her friend carrying it across the boot sale to where the car was parked.  She noticed the guy who had wanted the carpet too, and the scowl on his face as he saw her with her prize.

Laid on the floor in her lounge it was clear it needed a clean but even so she could see it was meant to be.  It fitted perfectly with her decor, it almost appeared that the furniture around it had been placed there afterwards to compliment it.  Ella thought this was a little like her life at the moment with pieces slotting in finally to where they were supposed to.

Later, after much scrubbing and vacuuming Ella looked at her beautiful carpet and sighed. she was really happy she got out of bed to go to the boot sale this morning.  Ella grabbed a cushion, lit a candle and laid out on her new carpet.  As she did she had a funny feeling that she had come home, how strange she thought as she dropped off in exhaustion on the  floor with her hand gently stoking the weave of the rug.

Ella’s dreams were beautiful, she travelled the universe and understood it was meant to be.

Watermarks

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Daily Word Prompt – Orderly

Ron was about as orderly as they come, slightly over the top some might say. He put it down to his time in the forces, whatever it was he liked everything to be spick and span.

He surveyed the apartment one more time and smiled, everything was gleaming as it should. He could see his face in the taps and the sink was dry and polished, not a single water mark in sight but he buffed it again all the same.

He was waiting for Miriam to arrive, she hadn’t been to his home before and he wanted to show her how well he looked after himself. He had always been the same, even when his wife was alive he took charge of the housework. That had been their deal, she did the cooking and ironing and he took care of the house. She had been a wonderful cook, she could make something from nothing all right, they didn’t need to splash out on fancy ingredients. Everybody commented on her skill in the kitchen, it had been difficult adjusting after she went. He was getting better as time went on and tonight he would be cooking for Miriam.

Ron thought he would sit Miriam in the leather chair, save the job of puffing the cushions. He would sit opposite and the could enjoy an aperitif before dinner.

He thought about the music he had chosen, he didn’t want to put it on until after the taxi had left the complex, this way just the right track would be playing when she arrived. Ron looked down to the parking lot but no sign of a taxi yet.

It wasn’t long before the door knocked, Ron was confused he hadn’t heard a taxi.  He hurried over to the stereo and pressed play before having one more check of himself in the mirror and opening the door.  Miriam was standing there somewhat windswept with a dripping umbrella in her hand.  ‘I thought I would walk, clear the cobwebs’ she said, giving him a peck on the cheek and walking past him into the apartment.  Miriam still had her umbrella in her hand and it was dripping all over his freshly polished floors.  Ron quickly relieved her of the umbrella and and pointed her towards the leather chair as planned.  ‘What a beautiful apartment’ Miriam said.  ‘If you don’t mind I would rather sit on the couch, it looks so lovely and comfortable with all those cushions to support ones back’.  Ron screamed silently, he hadn’t sat on the sofa in a year, the cushions were heavy and he wasn’t getting any younger. ‘Of course’ Ron obliged, knowing he should have been faster.

Ron prepared drinks and nibbles and brought them over to the sitting area on a tray.  He purposefully left the tray on the glass coffee table, to protect it from ring marks and crumbs.  Miriam, must have missed this as she pushed the tray slightly to put her glass down on the table.  Miriam told Ron she had brought some photos along to show him and popped her bruschetta on the side to dig into her handbag.  Ron watched as the oil and glass met, he missed what she was saying as she handed him the photo.

Miriam said she would like to use the bathroom before dinner and Ron pointed the way, quickly wiping the table with his nicely ironed hanky chief as soon as she was out of eyesight.  Ron listened as the taps in the bathroom ran and thought about the splashes, thought about the fresh clean towels now creased.

Maybe it was too early to consider lady friends he thought, after all his wife had only been gone six years.

Password to Life

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Michael entered the password numerous times, in every format possible. He knew his password for goodness sake, why wouldn’t it work! He tried it in countless ways, big B, little b and with a 4 and then a 7 but to no avail.

This was ridiculous, he slammed his palm on the table. It wasn’t him, it must be the other party’s end, that, or he’d been hacked!  Michael let out a loud groan and held his head in his hands in despair.

‘Is there something wrong my dear?’ Michael looked up to find a woman standing over the table. Michael had forgotten he was in a cafe, he had come to try and see if he would have any more luck with a faster internet connection.  She looked about his age, maybe a little younger as she still had a softness about her.

‘Oh I’m sorry, I forgot where I was, it’s this damn contraption that’s driving me crazy’, he mumbled pointing at his iPad. I’m trying to top up my Skype credit so I can talk to someone, I wanted to call my son in Indonesia, but it won’t recognise my password. I don’t think I’ve changed it but maybe I did and forgot as I sometimes do.  Please do sit down, I am so terribly sorry for my outburst, let me buy you a cup of tea’.

Mary sat down and smiled across the table at Michael ‘perhaps I can help you remember, let me think.  I believe that most of my own passwords are connected to memories of my life.  I think from speaking to friends they are usually connected to ones life, an event, place, name or number with significance.   I know they recommend you shouldn’t do this but my memory just isn’t what it was’.

Michael nodded in agreement, ‘I have tried most of the places where I have lived, I have used these before but that just doesn’t seem to be working.  I have also tried my children’s names and businesses I have had, but the password eludes me’. Michael thought once more about what the password could be.  ‘I’m sure it is Mississippi and a year, but the year escapes me.’  Michael thought about his time in the US with his wife, they had a wonderful time wherever they went, she had told him she had loved their life together before she died.   Michael was lonely, he depended on his iPad to be in touch with people, he knew probably drove them mad, but it was better than loneliness.

‘Tell me a little about your life, we might come up with the password if we are lucky’ Mary suggested.  So Michael spoke and Mary listened, laughing at times and dabbing her eyes at others.  Mary shared some of her own life stories, it was so good to talk to someone she thought.

They were the last to leave the cafe, arranging to meet the next day and talk some more.  Both had smiles on their faces as they parted, they had thoroughly enjoyed their afternoon.

Later that evening when the iPad beeped to indicate a Skype call coming in, Michael was able to tell his son about the lovely afternoon with his new friend.  He told him about how he had been reminiscing and remembered things he hadn’t thought of in years.  Michael said he would be meeting Mary the following day and wanted to take along some photographs.  He didn’t stay on the call as long as he usually did and when it ended, strangely he didn’t feel sad.

It wasn’t until much later he realised he still hadn’t remembered his password.