Photo Credit: Will Pennington. Lake Moxie. The Forks, Maine. Inspired by a writer friend’s post about her 50’s being the cruelest decade – loss of old friends to sickness, Alzheimer’s, aging poorly, giving up, and to my own recent loss of two friends from my childhood church, one 12 years younger than I, one 12 years older. Time knows no Master. Time was, is, and … Continue reading Father Time Comes Knocking (Don’t make Eye Contact)
Dad wasn’t an affectionate man, while I know Mom craved his touch and sweet words. Dad always signed off on phone calls and letters by saying “We love you.” Mom always signed off saying “I love you.” I should have mentioned this in Part 1, Dad’s story: His father was a cruel man not above humiliating his children in front of others. He once ridiculed … Continue reading Saying Goodbye to My Dying Parents, Part 2, Mom
We were three days sail out of Pearl Harbor in November 1994 when the Red Cross message clattered from the teletype: Mother of servicemember requests return home. Father in coma after heart attack. Not expected to survive. “Sixty-seven isn’t old. How can this be?” Were the USS Tripoli an aircraft carrier, they might have flown me off on the C-2 Greyhound. But the Tripoli was … Continue reading Saying Goodbye to My Dying Parent, Part 1: Dad
I look for you in the white feather that floats from nowhere, the light footfalls that pause when I pause, the whisper over my shoulder while I write; I read your message in the flash across the night sky and breathe your orange blossom fragrance when the nearest orange blossoms are miles away I feel you without thinking, a touch upon my shoulder, a sigh … Continue reading The Whisper Over My Shoulder
Love arrives breathing, warming love that develops, pulses from your heart, love beating keeping time, love’s symphony surrounds us, Love. Love before death, soothing love that envelops, light dimming in your eyes, love cherished and remembered, love’s eyes closed forever, Love. Continue reading Love, Ten Times Over
Your fragrance often wafts into my head guided by the metaphysical pinings of two souls and the bond between spirits not tethered to temporal moorings. Mortal boundaries span six feet of earthly separation but the heavenly plane exists within our senses. Comforting, that thought, and breathing your scent brings thoughts of your heaven wafting through my mind. For heaven is where you took me taking … Continue reading Of Love and Fragrance
I wondered for a moment if she were kneeling, perhaps stocking the shelves, she barely peeked over the bar, but her Spanish green eyes were bright when she smiled and she told me she didn’t live far; she reached to my shoulders in her bare feet, not much higher in heels, and from my towering perch I never mentioned the few stray, white hairs she couldn’t … Continue reading My Spanish Love
Aida was the one all along, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. She has given me the half of my heart I buried with you. Yes, Tomás. I knew love would come to you again. I grieved so long for you, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. Too long. Aida makes me feel like you and I are together again. I know, Tomás. I can’t bring you back, Susanna, so I … Continue reading Susanna X
Is she the one, Susanna? I do not know, Tomás You must know, Susanna. Why, Tomás? She makes me think of you. She is not me. I want you back, Susanna. I’m dead, Tomás. You died too soon. Yes. Why? Why? Tell me. It was my time to die. It isn’t fair. Life is not always fair. Sasi makes me feel the way you did. … Continue reading Susanna IX
She dances without moving Sails billow without wind Cannons, crossed, are silent Ship’s anchor is aweigh Inked in black, his life Forever tattooed in my mind. Continue reading The Sailor
Why do you torture me, Susanna? It is not I, William. It must be. I feel you watching me. I feel you watching me. No, William, I’m not here. I’m dead. You know that. Yes. I killed you. I left you in the cold and the rain. No, my love. I died of pneumonia in the hospital after the car accident. I couldn’t find my way … Continue reading Susanna VIII
“I think I fell in love with you this morning, dear lady.” “You think you did? You are not sure? Perhaps we should try again. Shall we meet for an apple in the morning?” “I had already planned to meet you for an apple tomorrow. And the next day, and the next, and the next, and every day until….” “Every day until what?” “Every day … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Writers Envy 