Some people bake, some people knit, some people run... I write. It's what I do instead of stabbing people.
I was working on a story several months ago that I got stuck on. I had the basic outline, I just couldn't figure out which direction I wanted to go so I put it down for a bit and moved on to something else.
I woke up this morning thinking about that one story and suddenly knew exactly where it should go. So I decided to bounce it off of Dan. I explained the whys, wheres, hows, and let him give me feedback. He was stoked. He said he really liked it and couldn't wait for me to finish it.
He gets really excited when I mention a story that I may have an ending to because I am notorious for starting one and never finishing it. I have what I jokingly call "OCED" or Obsessive Compulsive Editing Disorder. I can't seem to write a chapter and leave it be- I must go back and edit the bajeebus out of it.
Anyhow, I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my laptop, and settled down in the living room.
Dan turned on baseball and I thought, "Oh good, it's baseball; I can write with baseball on in the background." Then he flipped to recorded episodes of Jeopardy. I kinda half-heartedly watched some of it while I was re-reading what I'd already written. Five episodes of Jeopardy later, he asked if I would mind rehearsing his show with him.
I replied, "No I don't mind, but can I do it later?"
He said, "But I really need to get this memorized."
I said, perhaps a bit more abruptly than I intended, "I thought you wanted me to write! Do you or do you not want me to get this done? I thought you were excited about me possibly finishing something?"
He apologized and turned off the TV. Every few minutes, he would laugh and show me something he found on Facebook or ask if I'd heard of something that happened recently.
This is what happens when I go on a field trip with my kids and he doesn't see me for an entire day. It's good to know he misses me.
Finally, I got up and said I was headed to the bathroom. I'm currently sitting here with my laptop, typing this. No, I didn't need to actually use the facilities, I'm just sitting here. I'm fairly sure it's the only room of the house in which I can sit quietly and not be disturbed.
Meanwhile, I have exactly three new sentences written on the story that I saw so clearly in my head this morning. Three.
/sigh I haven't even killed off the main character yet.
Am I the only one who's ever wondered if a recliner would fit in their bathroom?
March 28, 2015
March 22, 2015
Vida Paraiso
The following is a dream I had a few weeks ago. I wrote most of it the moment I woke up, even before coffee. Then I went back later and filled in small details. I usually keep my dreams to myself because they're typically pretty silly, but this one was so very real to me that I woke up with tears streaming down my face and it took me a few seconds to realize where I was- in my own bed. For a brief moment, I could still feel the cool breeze and smell the salty air.
I've only shared this with a few others because it is about my Mama and it is personal. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her terribly. But I also believe that wherever she is right now, she's having more fun than she's had in years and I cannot begrudge her that, no matter how much my heart aches for her.
(I'm not much for dream interpretation; I usually just take them as they come. So when Ricky Ricardo appears out of nowhere, chalk it up to my brain being silly and please don't judge. :) )
__________________________________
“Come with me!” Mama said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bow.
The ship’s ready to leave port and I know she wants to watch the people shouting “bon voyage” and throwing colored paper streamers like something from an old-time movie.
Her excitement is contagious and I giggle as I allow her to push me up to the railing. Next to us are Elizabeth and Aunt Kat, already waving as the ship begins moving away from the dock.
“Who are you waving at?” I asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled and replied, “Does it matter? They all wave back. Try it and see!”
I look at the crowd of nameless faces and begin waving and blowing kisses at the air like a haughty celebrity bidding adoring fans adieu. Several people I’d likely never see again blew kisses back at me.
The wind picks up as the enormous ship moves down the channel, blowing our skirts and nearly stealing our matching sun hats. Glancing over at Mama and Aunt Kat, I think, probably for the millionth time, how much they look alike and yet so different.
One has long red hair, tied up in a bun on top of her head; the other, shoulder-length brown hair. Both have a hint of well-earned grays at the temple. They both strongly resemble their mother.
As I catch Elizabeth’s eye, I see that she, too, has been watching them. Without her saying, I know she is thinking the same as I.
A male voice interrupts my thoughts. “Ladies, would you care for a Bon Voyage cocktail?” I glance over at the handsome young man in a crisp sailor’s uniform with a tray in his hands and it occurs to me that he could be a young Ricky Ricardo. His thick accent is melodic and I half-way expect him to break out into a rendition of “Babaloo.”
“Our special tonight is ‘Vida Paraíso’,” he informs us. “It’s a lovely tropical fruit concoction with rum and coconut. You will love it.”
“’Vida Paraíso’?” I ask.
“It means ‘Paradise Life’,” He replies with a twinkle in his eye.
We burst into laughter at the translation, remembering a time when several of us drove vehicles with one of the many “Life” stickers on the back.
“Yes, uh…” I glance at the young man’s name tag, “Balthazar, we’ll each have a ‘Vida Paraíso’, please.”
“’Balthazar’?” Mama interrupts. “Like one of the three Wise Men?”
He nods and gives Mama a slight, regal bow. “The same, Senora.”
Though I know it’s incredibly rude of me, I cannot help myself. “I thought you were Persian!”
“Sometimes I am,” Balthazar smiles enigmatically and then winks at me, “Today, I am Ricky Ricardo.”
As he disappears to get our drinks, Elizabeth links arms with mine and begins walking towards a miraculously empty table with four chairs.
Mama and Aunt Kat follow and before long, we’re simply enjoying each other’s company, chattering away about everything and nothing.
Brilliant rays of gold, pink, purple, and orange paint the cloudless sky as we watch the sun dipping slowly into the sea to the west. Behind us, delicately shimmering blue begins creeping across the sky.
“What’s it like…” I begin but have to pause to clear the sudden lump in my throat. “What’s it like at the port where the ship stops?”
“It’s indescribably beautiful,” Mama tells me. “Think of the most beautiful place you’ve ever been- times a billion- and it’s even better than that.”
I’m speechless for a moment, trying to comprehend what she’s telling me.
“What do you do there?” I ask when I find my voice again.
Mama grins and shrugs, “Anything we want! Yesterday, we played on a tire swing and picked buttercups. Then Kat made a pot of Seven Minute frosting and we ate the whole thing.”
Caught up in her happy mood, I laugh as I find myself remembering a time when we made ourselves sick by eating an entire pot of Seven Minute frosting.
My heart smiles as I imagine Mama and Aunt Kat playing on a tire swing and picking buttercups like the little girls they once were.
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…” Elizabeth sings softly. “I wish I may, I wish I might,” Mama and I join in. “Have the wish I wish tonight,” we all finish the rhyme together.
“What did you wish?” Aunt Kat asks.
“Oh no!” Elizabeth says in a mock-serious tone, wagging her forefinger back and forth. “If I tell, it won’t come true.”
Balthazar returns with four brown coconut cups with bright pink paper umbrellas skewered through pineapple sticking out of the top. “Compliments of the Captain,” he says with a dramatic flourish as he places them on our table.
We each lift the little coconut cups and toast. “To before,” I say, though not sure why I chose that word.
My companions seem to understand. “To before,” they repeat in unison and we sip our fruity rum cocktails.
Mama puts her cup down, reaches over and grasps my hand, tenderly squeezing. “It will be again, love; one day. It’s just not time yet.”
“It’s peaceful here, don’t you think?” Aunt Kat asks quietly.
A comfortable silence descends as we watch the very last sliver of fiery sunshine slip below the waves. Slowly, the gold, pink, and orange give way to crimson, purple, and finally, a deep jewel-toned blue.
Millions of stars begin to glitter above us, peeking out from their daytime hiding places.
The deck is nearly empty now; only a few whispering couples linger on, taking advantage of the ample shadows and the rhythmic sway of the ship.
Reaching over, Mama pulls off my hat, freeing my long auburn hair to blow in the breeze. “It’s time, my girl.” Her tone is wistful and I know she wishes I didn’t have to go.
“I know, Mama. Just a few minutes more? Please?”
Standing, Mama pulls me to my feet and into her arms for a long hug. She’s strong; much more so than I remember. The last time I hugged her when she could hug me back, she felt so frail and weak, and I hugged carefully so I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s so strong now that I hold on tightly.
“You don’t have your oxygen tank!” I suddenly realize, shocked that I haven’t noticed before now.
“Nope!” I can feel the rise and fall of her shoulders as she sucks in a deep easy breath and then lets it out. “I don’t need it here.”
I stand there inhaling her precious scent, knowing there is none other like it in the world.
Looking over, I see Elizabeth and Aunt Kat are in a similar embrace. “There’s no need for tears here,” Aunt Kat says, “you can come back again tomorrow and the day after if you’d like.”
“And the day after that too,” Mama adds and then she pulls back, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “I am so proud of you! Never doubt that,” she says with a slight squeeze of my hands, “Make sure you kiss those boys and your Daddy for me. I miss them all so much!”
When I promise I that will, she lets go reluctantly, steps back, and I know that it’s time for me to go.
“We’ll be right here,” Aunt Kat says in a slightly echoing voice.
Elizabeth reaches for my hand, gripping it tightly, and the two of us begin to slowly ascend, as though a breeze has scooped us up.
As we drift away, Mama and Aunt Kat hold hands and wave at us. The thought comes to me that they’ve never looked more beautiful, happier, or more at peace than they do at that moment. There's no pain, no regret, no hurt, and no anger between them; only two sisters reunited once again.
We watch them fading into the distance, becoming smaller as we rise higher, until they’re nearly out of sight.
“I love you, Mama!” I call.
“I love you, too,” her voice little more than a whisper, “I’ll always love you.”
I've only shared this with a few others because it is about my Mama and it is personal. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her terribly. But I also believe that wherever she is right now, she's having more fun than she's had in years and I cannot begrudge her that, no matter how much my heart aches for her.
(I'm not much for dream interpretation; I usually just take them as they come. So when Ricky Ricardo appears out of nowhere, chalk it up to my brain being silly and please don't judge. :) )
__________________________________
“Come with me!” Mama said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bow.
The ship’s ready to leave port and I know she wants to watch the people shouting “bon voyage” and throwing colored paper streamers like something from an old-time movie.
Her excitement is contagious and I giggle as I allow her to push me up to the railing. Next to us are Elizabeth and Aunt Kat, already waving as the ship begins moving away from the dock.
“Who are you waving at?” I asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled and replied, “Does it matter? They all wave back. Try it and see!”
I look at the crowd of nameless faces and begin waving and blowing kisses at the air like a haughty celebrity bidding adoring fans adieu. Several people I’d likely never see again blew kisses back at me.
The wind picks up as the enormous ship moves down the channel, blowing our skirts and nearly stealing our matching sun hats. Glancing over at Mama and Aunt Kat, I think, probably for the millionth time, how much they look alike and yet so different.
One has long red hair, tied up in a bun on top of her head; the other, shoulder-length brown hair. Both have a hint of well-earned grays at the temple. They both strongly resemble their mother.
As I catch Elizabeth’s eye, I see that she, too, has been watching them. Without her saying, I know she is thinking the same as I.
A male voice interrupts my thoughts. “Ladies, would you care for a Bon Voyage cocktail?” I glance over at the handsome young man in a crisp sailor’s uniform with a tray in his hands and it occurs to me that he could be a young Ricky Ricardo. His thick accent is melodic and I half-way expect him to break out into a rendition of “Babaloo.”
“Our special tonight is ‘Vida Paraíso’,” he informs us. “It’s a lovely tropical fruit concoction with rum and coconut. You will love it.”
“’Vida Paraíso’?” I ask.
“It means ‘Paradise Life’,” He replies with a twinkle in his eye.
We burst into laughter at the translation, remembering a time when several of us drove vehicles with one of the many “Life” stickers on the back.
“Yes, uh…” I glance at the young man’s name tag, “Balthazar, we’ll each have a ‘Vida Paraíso’, please.”
“’Balthazar’?” Mama interrupts. “Like one of the three Wise Men?”
He nods and gives Mama a slight, regal bow. “The same, Senora.”
Though I know it’s incredibly rude of me, I cannot help myself. “I thought you were Persian!”
“Sometimes I am,” Balthazar smiles enigmatically and then winks at me, “Today, I am Ricky Ricardo.”
As he disappears to get our drinks, Elizabeth links arms with mine and begins walking towards a miraculously empty table with four chairs.
Mama and Aunt Kat follow and before long, we’re simply enjoying each other’s company, chattering away about everything and nothing.
Brilliant rays of gold, pink, purple, and orange paint the cloudless sky as we watch the sun dipping slowly into the sea to the west. Behind us, delicately shimmering blue begins creeping across the sky.
“What’s it like…” I begin but have to pause to clear the sudden lump in my throat. “What’s it like at the port where the ship stops?”
“It’s indescribably beautiful,” Mama tells me. “Think of the most beautiful place you’ve ever been- times a billion- and it’s even better than that.”
I’m speechless for a moment, trying to comprehend what she’s telling me.
“What do you do there?” I ask when I find my voice again.
Mama grins and shrugs, “Anything we want! Yesterday, we played on a tire swing and picked buttercups. Then Kat made a pot of Seven Minute frosting and we ate the whole thing.”
Caught up in her happy mood, I laugh as I find myself remembering a time when we made ourselves sick by eating an entire pot of Seven Minute frosting.
My heart smiles as I imagine Mama and Aunt Kat playing on a tire swing and picking buttercups like the little girls they once were.
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…” Elizabeth sings softly. “I wish I may, I wish I might,” Mama and I join in. “Have the wish I wish tonight,” we all finish the rhyme together.
“What did you wish?” Aunt Kat asks.
“Oh no!” Elizabeth says in a mock-serious tone, wagging her forefinger back and forth. “If I tell, it won’t come true.”
Balthazar returns with four brown coconut cups with bright pink paper umbrellas skewered through pineapple sticking out of the top. “Compliments of the Captain,” he says with a dramatic flourish as he places them on our table.
We each lift the little coconut cups and toast. “To before,” I say, though not sure why I chose that word.
My companions seem to understand. “To before,” they repeat in unison and we sip our fruity rum cocktails.
Mama puts her cup down, reaches over and grasps my hand, tenderly squeezing. “It will be again, love; one day. It’s just not time yet.”
“It’s peaceful here, don’t you think?” Aunt Kat asks quietly.
A comfortable silence descends as we watch the very last sliver of fiery sunshine slip below the waves. Slowly, the gold, pink, and orange give way to crimson, purple, and finally, a deep jewel-toned blue.
Millions of stars begin to glitter above us, peeking out from their daytime hiding places.
The deck is nearly empty now; only a few whispering couples linger on, taking advantage of the ample shadows and the rhythmic sway of the ship.
Reaching over, Mama pulls off my hat, freeing my long auburn hair to blow in the breeze. “It’s time, my girl.” Her tone is wistful and I know she wishes I didn’t have to go.
“I know, Mama. Just a few minutes more? Please?”
Standing, Mama pulls me to my feet and into her arms for a long hug. She’s strong; much more so than I remember. The last time I hugged her when she could hug me back, she felt so frail and weak, and I hugged carefully so I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s so strong now that I hold on tightly.
“You don’t have your oxygen tank!” I suddenly realize, shocked that I haven’t noticed before now.
“Nope!” I can feel the rise and fall of her shoulders as she sucks in a deep easy breath and then lets it out. “I don’t need it here.”
I stand there inhaling her precious scent, knowing there is none other like it in the world.
Looking over, I see Elizabeth and Aunt Kat are in a similar embrace. “There’s no need for tears here,” Aunt Kat says, “you can come back again tomorrow and the day after if you’d like.”
“And the day after that too,” Mama adds and then she pulls back, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “I am so proud of you! Never doubt that,” she says with a slight squeeze of my hands, “Make sure you kiss those boys and your Daddy for me. I miss them all so much!”
When I promise I that will, she lets go reluctantly, steps back, and I know that it’s time for me to go.
“We’ll be right here,” Aunt Kat says in a slightly echoing voice.
Elizabeth reaches for my hand, gripping it tightly, and the two of us begin to slowly ascend, as though a breeze has scooped us up.
As we drift away, Mama and Aunt Kat hold hands and wave at us. The thought comes to me that they’ve never looked more beautiful, happier, or more at peace than they do at that moment. There's no pain, no regret, no hurt, and no anger between them; only two sisters reunited once again.
We watch them fading into the distance, becoming smaller as we rise higher, until they’re nearly out of sight.
“I love you, Mama!” I call.
“I love you, too,” her voice little more than a whisper, “I’ll always love you.”
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