Category: Children

The Recluse (Part XI)

April 8, 2016

“Thank you for taking me to church with you, Maria. I enjoyed it very much.” Estelle opens the car door to step out onto the sidewalk in front of her house and Maria gets out of the car too. “You are very welcome, Estelle. We love your company and I so appreciate what you are doing for Alisha.” As if on cue, Alisha jumps out of the car behind Estelle and gives her an unexpected hug. “Thank you for coming to hear me sing Ms. Williams!” Estelle gasps at the surprising embrace but then accepts it and returns the favor. Maria hugs her in turn and Estelle feels an old ache momentarily fade. It’s been a very long time since she’s felt a human embrace. “I will see both of you soon.” Estelle bends to peer into the car where Tony sits behind the wheel, “Thank you, Mr. Hernandez. Have a wonderful afternoon.” Tony nods in ascent and then looks straight ahead, “Come along Maria…Alisha. We need to get going.” Mother and daughter get back into the car as Estelle walks toward her front door.

Estelle opens the door and is enveloped in the isolation she’s sheltered in for such a long time. The emptiness feels safe and familiar but also, frightening and all consuming. She looks around at the immaculate, perfectly decorated house and has a sudden urge to dirty it up and make it look like someone actually, lives here. Determined but not really understanding the force impelling her to action, Estelle defiantly strides into the living room, looks at the portrait of her mother, and begins tossing expensive, artfully placed cushions from the sofa and chairs willy-nilly and even on the floor. Then she kicks off her shoes, lets down her hair and carelessly, flops down on the beautiful blue sofa. She stretches out as for a nap then reaches for a perfect rose pillow to support her head as she stares into the painted eyes of her deceased mother.

Those eyes leave Estelle feeling frozen. “How many times did I reach for you, Emma? How many times did I need a mother and even though I could see you and touch you, my mother was never there?” In a flash, Estelle understood herself as having always been an orphan on the emotional level. In fact, she’d been forced to be a mother to Emma from the time she was a small child. “Was I a good mom, Emma?” Estelle yells at the portrait as tears begin to spill. Then she remembered what the preacher said in church that morning about somehow, being able to have a parent-child relationship with God because of Jesus’ death on the cross. The idea of having such a relationship is very appealing to Estelle but it doesn’t make sense to her. She also, remembers the words of Jesus and the validation she felt upon reading them. “Emma! Do you know or care how much pain your drinking and constant neediness caused me? Do you know how hard Dad and I worked to keep your drinking secret and how much life we lost trying to protect you? Were you ever aware of what people said to me or what our neighbors thought?” With tears streaming, Estelle counted all she’d lost to Emma’s drinking and the black hole that drinking was used to anesthetize. Much of her childhood was consumed in that hole and even more of her adult years after her father passed. “Even now Emma, you steal my life from me because you never had a life! You never became a whole person! You used me to live for you and I’ve never lived for me either…” Estelle fiercely wipes the tears from her eyes, “I’m going to find a way to be more than the arms and legs of Emma Williams! I want to be a whole woman and live my life!” Estelle moves a few more objects out of place, gives Emma’s portrait a hard stare, and leaves the room.

It’s anger that gives Estelle the energy to move despite these new inner revelations. It is also, anger that numbs and gives her the fortitude to fight her excruciating, emotional pain. In the sanctuary of the only bedroom she’s ever known, she removes her church clothes and puts on her favorite pair of yoga pants and a big t-shirt. Then she goes to the bathroom to wash her face and pull herself together. When she catches her eye in the mirror, she gives herself a hard stare much like the one she unleashed on the portrait of Emma. “I-want-more!” she states firmly just below the tone of a shout.

In the kitchen, Estelle makes a sandwich as she recalls the words she heard in church that morning and remembers the warmth of friendship she’d enjoyed with Maria and Alisha. “Relationship. That’s exactly what’s missing in my life.” Estelle counts the relationships she was never able to enjoy, the school-chums that couldn’t come over to play or for sleep-overs; then later, the young men who could never find room in her life because her life belonged to her mother. “Now, I’m left alone and I don’t know how to connect to others because I never learned.” This truth comes down cold and hard but also, clarifies the solution. “I need to learn how to relate to people.”

Estelle takes her sandwich and a glass of milk with her as she goes into her office for her lap-top. Thinking she will lay down on her bed and catch up on some reading, she starts to enter her bedroom but then suddenly turns and decides to use Emma’s room instead. Pushing decorations aside, she puts her things down and rips open the bed. The frilly comforter lands on the floor where it stays and Estelle builds a comfy seat for herself from the pillows. She opens the curtains to let the sunlight in and then settles in bed to finish eating, not caring about the crumbs spilling all over the expensive satin sheets.

“If I want to know who Jesus is, I guess I need to read the Bible.” Estelle doesn’t own a Bible but quickly finds one online. Not knowing where to start, she decides to begin in Matthew, the book from which they’d read that morning. Estelle reads all of the Gospels and is transfixed by the person of Jesus described in those pages. “Such an ancient story that touches my heart in a way I don’t understand.” Estelle whispers to herself but also, to God. “He suffered so much but He stayed true to You and You were always there for Him. What a wonderful relationship. God, I don’t know what I have to do exactly. I don’t really understand but I want that relationship. I want You to be my Father too. I am all alone and I need You!”

Estelle closes her lap-top, pushes it to the other side of the bed, then sinks down off the pillows, and drifts off to sleep. Before long, she is wandering from room to room in her house-dream. She is a little girl to whom the house of her childhood though small, appears very large. The house is cold, empty, and Estelle lost, meanders circling from one silent room to the other, calling for first her mother and then her dad. There is no answer. The house is filled by an arctic wind and then goes black. Little Estelle shivers in the dark fearing she’ll also, disappear in the void; when suddenly, a bright light appears!

To be continued.

For previous posts in this series go to https://joyindestructible.com/the-recluse-series/ where posts are listed in ascending order.

The Recluse (Part VIII)

March 12, 2016

Silence in isolation is morbidly obese and Estelle feeling overwhelmed and breathless under the pressure grabs Caravana and heads straight to bed. Institutionalized thinking she developed during the long sentence endured in her personal prison drives her to seek out the only escape she can easily access, sleep. Her dreams are usually much livelier, interesting, and socially attached than her real life but just like conscious reality, her dreams also have a course and purpose of their own. Not long after drifting off, Estelle finds herself walking through her familiar house dream, once again. She steps from the room she now sleeps in, through her bedroom window and negotiates the familiar broken-down passage way into that secret, other-house-addition attached by her streaming subconscious. She wanders its halls aimlessly, inspecting each room. She wonders why she leaves these lavish furnishings here in these forgotten rooms and never moves them into the other house. She notices a door so very, familiar from the house of her conscious world but is confused as to why this door and this room are here in her private dream-house. Feeling the rising terror of a nightmare, Estelle walks into Emma’s room, and hears the door slam shut behind her. In vain, she tries to open the door and get out but the door won’t budge. She runs to each of two windows in the room but finds they are false windows and this room is an inner room with no access to the outside. Estelle feels the world begin to spin with the sensation of falling and just before she hits the ground, she wakes up to a concerned Caravana staring into her face.

Depression settles over Emma but because she is a true survivor, she valiantly lifts the invisible, leaden slab-weight off herself and slips out from under it, thereby enabling her to get up to do what she must do to continue living. She walks from her bed to her familiar bedroom window (the only one she’s ever known) and pulls back the curtain to make sure there is a world out there and not just a landscape painted on a brick wall. She hears laughter and looks over toward the Hernandez’ residence and sees the small family hugging, hurrying, talking, carrying Bibles, and piling into their car. “Church again?” Estelle thinks first critically and then curiously, “What does it mean…God?…church? Why do people believe such things and what do they get out of it?” God was never a part of Estelle’s upbringing and none of it made sense to her. The Hernandez family was her first real contact with a sort of people that always seemed otherworldly, distant, and rather threatening to Estelle. Now, a new face of Christianity is emerging and that face belongs to the small somewhat, dysfunctional Hernandez family. As they drive off down the street, Estelle considers what she just saw and compares it to her own experience of family. The William’s family consisted of only three persons, with one daughter but that’s where all resemblance came to an end. It was obvious that Tony loved Maria and Maria loved Tony. Their focus (though too subservient) was on their daughter. Her wellbeing was their upmost concern, even if they didn’t always express it in a way best for Alisha. This little, imperfect family enjoyed a lot of love. Did that love come from their religion? Was there something to this God stuff?

Estelle’s thoughts wash backward into feelings she’d rather not explore but has no power to stop, now. That bond of love was not what held the William’s family together. It was Emma’s need that formed the adhesive of her family. She and her father’s drive to fulfill a self-imposed duty to serve that gaping lack had kept the William’s family together. As to a damaged false idol, Estelle and her dad paid all homage to Emma and found their sad, life’s purpose in trying to satisfy the poverty they called wife and mother, with themselves. Their worship and service were futile because what Emma needed was the personal development of growing to become a complete person. Joe’s love for Emma was a kind of sad penance that Estelle would never understand. He worked himself hard to give her what she demanded, while not even sharing her bed but instead, sleeping in a separate room that resembled a monk’s cell. He tried to give his daughter the things she needed but was emotionally, unavailable. He was too overwhelmed with trying to complete his wife to have anything left for anyone else. He emptied himself out for her and died with nothing. Emma was a non-persona and had nothing to offer anyone, let alone her daughter. Estelle, with no deliberate thought, simply tried to relate to her mother by mirroring Joe’s relationship with Emma. In this moment, the past and the present congeal in Estelle’s mind and heart and she realizes she grew up as an invisible child. Her parents were so lost in themselves that they seldom saw her and never knew their daughter. Even worse, she knows she remains unknown, unattached to others, and is an obscure woman.

Finding it hard to breathe, Estelle opens the window. The day’s last golden rays of sun-light stream in with sparkling, intensity and a sudden gust of strong wind pushes a weakened Estelle down on her knees. With head and hands on the window sill and tears streaming, Estelle without thinking finds herself praying, “God? Oh… God…? God. I need you! I don’t know what to say…or even if you hear me…but I can’t be like this anymore! Please, help me find my way out! Please! Send someone to love me so, I can know what love is before I die!”

The powerful gust of wind now settled into a gentle, caressing breeze is comforting and Estelle lifts her eyes to witness a brilliant gold and peach sunset that she understands as a visual reply to her prayer. Peace settles over her and the painful ache of an unnamed longing she’s always born ebbs away. None of it makes reasonable sense but her heart accepts it all gladly, without question. Caravana rubs against her thigh purring and she knows he understands too.

“Oh, Caravana! I don’t know what’s coming tomorrow but I think everything has changed!”

To be continued.

For previous posts in this series visit my Page entitled “The Recluse Series” at https://joyindestructible.com/the-recluse-series/

Turn Back

March 9, 2016

I am an old fashioned girl, I guess.

Still a bit new to being an old lady;

I’ve lived long enough to see a few things.

I’ve learned a lot and I know what works,

And what doesn’t.

 

I remember many things that are now, forgotten.

 

I’m still quite taken with chivalry.

A man who offers me his coat when I’m cold,

Opens the car door for me.

He respected me enough to marry me,

Before I gave him a baby.

 

I still like that now discarded word, wholesome.

 

Values that stand the test of time;

Boundaries, manners, appropriate, even etiquette.

Masculine, feminine, equal but different.

Family formed to raise children,

“In the nurture and the admonition of the Lord”

 

“The hand that rocks the cradle rules the nation.”

 

A mother’s job is the most important.

Nurturing a stronger nation, shaping its leaders,

Reward more valuable than money:

Respect and families that stay together,

Bound by mother’s unconditional love.

 

“Wait in your room until your father comes home!”

 

The man who puts a roof over your head!

Food in your belly, clothes on your back; honor him!

Accept his strong discipline in healthy fear.

When you grow up be like him!

Work hard, take care of your family.

 

“Fashions come and go but the classics never go out of style.”

 

Yes, I’m old now and time softens the edges.

It wasn’t perfect back then, it wasn’t like Ozy and Harriet!

But everyone knew what was right and wrong.

In our high ideals there was consensus,

Truth was upheld, good wasn’t evil.

 

“When evil is exalted the innocent become prey.”

 

In this new century there is little desire for Truth.

Free morality held in by tight government regulations on everything else.

More government requires more taxes!

Working mothers can no longer rock the cradle.

Corrupt leaders rise; sociopaths, megalomaniacs!

 

God, they say is like me, old fashioned. They’ve removed the old landmarks.

Confusion is rampant and people are angry that America’s promise is gone.

While old ladies like me pray that America will turn back and bless God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Recluse (Part VII)

March 5, 2016

Alisha is wide awake a full half-hour before the time either of her parents usually, rouse each other to get ready for work. She can’t wait to get over to Ms. William’s house and gather more clues to solve “The Mystery of the Lone Lady” the mystery/fantasy game she created in her twelve-year-old mind and is obsessed with. The lines between fantasy and reality are as blurred in her thinking as her definition of person and object. At twelve, Alisha views life as a wonderful, exciting, movie unfolding before her and because of her inborn nature and the special status her parents have always given her, it is no stretch for her to place herself in the seat of movie director. Life in Alisha’s view is simply a matter of controlling the script and directing various personalities to move here or there and nudging them into her desired action. It has worked so well with her parents that she accepts it as her rightful station in life. Alisha manipulates with ease and without conscience but also, without malice. She is simply, a twelve-year-old girl who is as alone as the woman she’s become fascinated with and she is caught up in her imagination. She is only, playing a game and has no real feelings at all for Estelle.

Tony hears unusual rustling noises that are unusual for this time of morning. Being a vigilant protector, there is no hesitation as he jumps out of bed to investigate the source. Following the intrusive sounds, he finds Alisha dressed, polished, and pouring a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. “Mi jita! I never see you up this time of day! Que pasa? “ Alisha brightens when she sees her father and runs to him for a hug. “Oh! Hi Daddy! Didn’t Momma tell you? I’ve got a job! I’m going to be working at our neighbor’s house. You know, the lady next door who is alone all of the time? I’m going to do chores for her and she’s going to pay me with art lessons. Isn’t that great? You don’t have to worry about me being home alone, Ms. Williams won’t be alone, and I’ll be learning so many new things! Aren’t you proud of me, Daddy… mi papacito?” Tony could never be anything but proud of his daughter but he didn’t like the idea of his precious Alisha spending time with a woman he didn’t know. “No. Your mother said nothing and I’m not sure I want you spending time with a stranger.” Alisha notes the expected resistance and meets the challenge as she’s done so many times before with great success. “Oh….Daddy, she’s no stranger! She’s Ms. Williams our next door neighbor. You always say that we should love our neighbors. How can I show her the love of Jesus if I don’t spend time with her?” Tony thinks his daughter is amazing and melts into the familiar twisting around Alisha’s finger, as if into a warm hug. “Okay, you win but I want you to keep your Iphone with you at all times and call me if anything seems wrong! Call me anyway, every hour or so to check in and know this! If I don’t hear from you, I’ll do the calling, and if you don’t answer, I’ll be ringing the door bell!” Alisha placates her dad with more hugs, sweet kisses, her biggest Hershey eyes, and sparkling smiles. She scoots back into her room to wait for her parent’s departure and watches television as she waits for the clock to display 9:00 a.m.

******************

By 8:30 a.m., Estelle is up and dressed. She takes a few moments to inspect the dress she’s chosen, a burgundy-print, summer dress that hugs her slim body modestly and ends in a soft ruffle just at the knee. She loves the juxtaposition of an autumn color in a summer dress and also, notices how it sets off her green eyes. At forty-seven, her arms are still beautifully slender but she chooses to cover them with a sheer, white, summer shrug. She also, takes note of a few grey hairs at her temple and wonders how long it will take for all of her dark brown hair to fade. Estelle can’t deny that she is a beautiful woman or the fact that she longs to be loved by a man and even have children but she also, believes it a fallacy for her to indulge herself in such fantasies. She stiffens her back, straightens her dress and hair one last time, turns from the full-length mirror and then stops dead. “What have I done? Why? Uggghhh….but I’ve done it. Too late now!” Caravana jumps from Estelle’s bed with a concerned, “Meow?” and tries to comfort his mistress. Estelle bends down, scoops him up, and holds him close on her chest as she rubs her cheek on his. “My Caravana! You are the only man for me. Love of my life and my son too! Where would I be without you?” The old, white Tom jumps to the floor just as Estelle hears the door-bell ring.

Estelle walks curtly toward the front entryway, stops to straighten herself one last time, and breathing deep opens the door. “Hello, Ms. Williams! I’m here! I’m not late! Aren’t you glad to see me!” Estelle lets her breath out in a huge sigh and reservedly responds, “Good morning Miss Alisha. Yes, I’m glad you are on time. Please, follow me into the kitchen.” Alisha starts to skip but Estelle simply, stops moving; and with one green-eyed- hard-stare, Alisha’s skip stops and without missing a step, blends into the walk of a mannerly, young woman. “This is where I’d like you to start Alisha. These dishes in the sink need to be rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and the countertops wiped down. The supplies you need are under the sink. Surely, a girl your age knows how to do dishes? I have a few calls to make. I’ll be in my office and when I return, I expect this work to be done.” Alisha knows how to answer, no matter what she is really thinking inside. “Yes, Ma’am!” Then when Estelle leaves the room, Alisha looks at the mess and whispers her real feelings. “Ewwww…that’s not for me!” Alisha plops down at the breakfast bar and loses herself in her Iphone.

“Alisha? What are you doing? Why is my kitchen still dirty?” The little girl puts on a sad face and walks over to the sink in hopes of making herself appear small and helpless in comparison to the mess. “I tried Ms. Williams… but… I have this cut on my finger, see?” Alisha holds up a forefinger wrapped in a Band-Aid for a not-too-close inspection. “It stings so badly when it gets wet! I just can’t make myself do it!” Estelle’s hands land on her hips in exasperation and she starts to respond in the way most natural to her in such situations, by just doing the work herself. She takes another look at Alisha standing helplessly and petulantly beside the sink full of dirty dishes; and in a flash sees the image of another woman superimpose over Alisha. Suddenly, drunken Emma has taken Alisha’s place, with her favored Bourbon and Coke sloshing in her glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. In an echo across time Estelle hears the familiar, “I just can’t do this anymore, Estelle! Your mother wasn’t meant for this drudgery! If that dad of yours wasn’t so lame, I’d have the kind of life I was meant to live!” The visage of Emma wobbles, slurps, takes a drag and Estelle feels that old impulse to run and fill her mother’s need, do her work for her, and hope for approval in return.

“Ms. Williams? Are you alright?” Alisha with real concern for how weird Estelle is behaving asks. “Ugh. Yes, I’m fine… Alisha.” Estelle answers while also, adjusting to being here in 2016 and not back in 1986. She takes another look at the little girl and like a long-sought piece of a jig-saw puzzle falling into place, understands Emma in a way she never could see before. No wonder her mother never seemed to know she had arms and legs of her own. She never had to use them. Estelle took another look at Alisha and with a resolve that feels cathartic for herself and also right for Alisha coolly states, “Life is full of difficulty, Alisha. Sometimes, we have to work around our pain in order to fulfill our obligations. There are rubber gloves under the sink to protect your hurt finger but I expect you to finish your job.” Alisha is shocked by this kind of answer and feels anger rise but then quickly, squelches it when faced with the unmovable expression of Estelle. “Yes, Ma’am, I will.” Alisha opens the cabinet beneath the sink, dons the gloves, and goes straight to work. Estelle grabs a cup of coffee to sit, watch Alisha work, and try to understand what just happened. “What’s going on with me?” she thinks to herself. “How can this little girl stir up so much from the past?” Sipping slowly, she watches Alisha’s now concentrated effort in her kitchen. Such a beautiful child, so intelligent, with so much promise, a little girl on the cusp of adolescence not much different than she’d once been…or probably even, Emma. Beautiful Emma, the helpless Queen. Had she been doted on and coddled as she suspected Maria coddled Alisha?“ It might be part of it but surely, not all of it. Nothing, especially human beings, is that simple but still, people can only become what they have opportunity to become.” Estelle’s thoughts stop here because she doesn’t want to delve any deeper into the questions surrounding her development, her stilted becoming.

“Alisha! That looks wonderful, dear. I’m proud of you. Now, let’s go out back. We’ll have an early lunch and then I’ll teach you the basics of drawing.” Alisha first inspects her finished task and is surprised by an unusual feeling of accomplishment when she sees how nice everything looks. Then she falls into her old habit of needing to be in charge and complains, “But…I don’t like drawing. I thought we’d paint or do some sculpture! Something exciting besides, I can’t draw a straight line, my Daddy says so.” Estelle replies firmly, “No child, we will start with the basics and the basic when it comes to creating fine pieces of art is drawing. There are no straight lines in nature but I will show you how to draw a nearly, straight line by a simple technique. We will also, explore circles, ellipses, and learn to connect them with straight lines to form images. Drawing is no more difficult than making beautiful letters. You simply need to learn how to do it. If you want to draw dear, you can learn to draw.” For the third time in two hours Alisha responds with a respectful, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Estelle and Alisha dine on fresh cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches and lose themselves in happy chatter about Caravana, the flower garden, and all the beautiful birds. Alisha forgets all about solving “The Mystery of the Lone Lady” as she is beginning to see her neighbor through eyes of respect and as a real person rather than a make-believe character. Estelle also enjoys this warm moment in time, feeling her somber thoughts float on the warm summer breeze and the uncomplicated conversation of the delightful, young girl. They move seamlessly from a lovely lunch to drawing lessons and soon, Alisha is enraptured in discovering the magic of line, as this lesson begins to uncover her inborn creativity. Estelle feels an inner awakening in the connection of pupil and teacher, as she guides Alisha’s self-discover by her own talented thoughts and expert hands. Alisha’s finished pieces are a reflection that is partly herself but also, partly Estelle, her new teacher. They are the expression of a burgeoning relationship and each of them is filled with new happiness as they inspect them together.

The sun begins to dip and Estelle realizes that it’s time for Alisha to return home. They say their goodbye’s and agree that Alisha will return day-after-tomorrow as Estelle, holding a tired Caravana, closes the door and notices the silence reclaim her home, as she has never noticed it before. Again Estelle asks, “What is happening to me? What is going on here?”

To be continued.

See previous posts in this series at http://www.joyindestructible.com/the-recluse-series or simply visit my Home Page and look for the drop-down menu just under the Header. Click on “The Recluse Series” and find posts listed in ascending order.

In a World of Wizards and Dragons

February 25, 2016

When the Wizards rise to power,

As men who favor magic set Nature’s God aside,

And beautiful horrible dragons fill the virtual skies!

Look but resist, don’t in fear cower;

Participate when you must, take the rest in stride;

Hold onto Truth, recognize deception and its lies.

 

“Drop your electronic device and move away from the windows!”

 

Shut it down, unplug, disengage, and go outside!

Welcome to this ancient world! Experience the joy and the pain!

Breathe deep in pleasured gasps, the air giving life to all the living.

The warm sun burns tender skin and man’s pride!

“Kiss the Son” while time remains, from virtual blindness refrain;

Don’t fear the dragon’s darkening in random smote so unforgiving,

Powered by fear, reprobate imagination to deride!

 

“Look up! Jesus is coming soon! Wash your mind in His Word and in Spirit pray!”

 

Don’t be overwhelmed by the Beast’s dazzling image!

Resist when they want to place a small chip inside your head, on your brain;

With the desire to govern over you, even through your inmost intimate thought.

If you must choose instead to be homeless, eat garbage,

Or die; Do this rather than surrender your eternal soul for only, temporary gain.

Soon this rising evil specter will vanish in its preset limit of which we’ve been taught.

Brother, remove your mind’s eye from this evil visage!

 

“Focus on Jesus, live in the real world. Take a walk, plant a garden, and hear the birds sing!”

 

Remember your children; Satan desires to devour them all!

Don’t allow them to live their childhood locked inside fantasy behind virtual walls!

Do they know that dragons aren’t real? Or that a sword in reality hurts and draws blood?

Mom! Dad! Take them outside, teach them to run and play ball!

Give them a puppy, a kitten, to hold, and to tend beyond the world of digital halls!

They need empathy now to ensure that the future they govern won’t end in a cruelty flood!

Show and teach them; Nature’s God is watching over all!

 

“Wizards and their dragons will vanish in the instant of a solar flare or crash of electronic grid.”

                                                                     Nature’s God Remains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart of Blue

February 9, 2016

I cut this heart of blue,

From special paper I saved for you,

In love’s cooler hue;

Trim in fine lace, used time as my glue;

Binding of hearts true;

Ribbons weave through and through,

Defining edges anew;

Now, tiny hearts of pink and baby-blue!

My how our years flew!

Happy Heart Day! True love share with you!

 

The Recluse (Part III)

January 30, 2016

Part I http://wp.me/p6iXvK-dQ

Part II http://wp.me/p6iXvK-eh

On this beautiful, late June morning, Estelle is outside tending to the roses and Rhododendron before the humidity becomes unbearable. The rare treat of a clear, blue, Pennsylvania sky fills her with a sense of elation so intense that part of her interprets it as a premonition of something exciting on the way. Estelle dismisses this idea as quickly as it rises because she knows there can be nothing new in her hum- drum life. With intensity, she focuses on clipping withered blossoms from the Rhododendron hedge that forms the eastern boundary of her property. They are in full bloom, pink, white, and red; the favorite of the humming birds whirring around her garden. Caravana, her fluffy white cat, contentedly weaves himself in and out of her ankles as she works. The two are inseparable. A sudden breeze picks up, turning the leaves on the oak tree upside down, and Estelle takes note that it will rain later today. As she pushes to finish her work, she hears the door-bell ring, looks at her watch, and makes a mental inventory of any deliveries that might be coming on this new Tuesday. Nothing coming to mind, Estelle decides to ignore the bell, a bit irritated at the interruption from the outside world. Being alone is her normal state and any feelings of loneliness were buried deep, a long time ago.

“Hello? Is anyone home? I’m your new neighbor!” Startled, Estelle looks up and her eyes lock with two large, brown eyes peering over the top of her back gate. With no way to escape, she pulls herself together and politely asks, “Yes? May I help you?” Though she is very poised, Estelle is alarmed not only, by the uninvited intrusion but there is something in those eyes that she recognizes. Those eyes draw her like a magnet but at the same time frighten her to her very core. Then she chides herself, “It’s just a little girl!” Alisha determined to make meaningful contact doesn’t hesitate, “I made some Bisquochitos and I thought maybe we could try them together? I copied my mother’s recipe and Momma says that Bisquochitos should never be eaten alone.” Estelle is caught off guard by someone bringing her a gift and offering companionship, as well. What could this child be up to? “Well, thank you for the thought dear. What are Bis..quit…cheatas?” Alisha laughs, “They are Mexican sugar cookies and they’re very good with milk or hot tea! If you open the gate, I’ll show you!” Estelle hesitates and timidly lifts the latch, as the gate swings open she asks, “Are… you from Mexico?” “Oh, no!” Alisha giggles, “I was born in Virginia. My dad was stationed there. My parents are from Arizona but I grew up in Philadelphia. My dad works on computers and we moved here so he could start his own business. We moved in three weeks ago. Did you notice?” “Oh yes, I noticed.” Estelle answered, “Many neighbors have come and gone during the time I’ve lived here.” The implication is a show of strength meant as a defense. Estelle struggles to keep her walls up despite the very forward attempts on the part of Alisha to tear them down. “Oh, you’ve lived here a long time then? Do you have some milk or tea so we can try my cookies?” Not knowing quite how to turn this little girl aside, Estelle plays the role of hostess, from memories of long ago. “Yes, I have both but little girls should have milk, I’ll have tea.” By this statement, Estelle hoped to establish authority and retrieve control. “Come this way, sit here, and I’ll be back in a moment.” Alisha sat down at the patio table, disappointed that she didn’t make it all the way inside. Through the glass door, she couldn’t make out many details of the kitchen and before long, Estelle re-emerged with the beverages.

“Here you go. Hmmm…what did you say your name was?” Estelle asked. “Oh! I’m Alisha…Alisha Hernandez. My mom and dad are Maria and Tony. May I ask your name?” “I’m Mrs. Williams.” Estelle said firmly, hoping to stop further inquires and keep the relationship formal. “Do you like my Bisquochitos?” “Yes, they are quite tasty, dear and thank you. I thought all Mexican food was spicy but these have a delicate flavor. Thank you for bringing them over. Drink your milk up now. I appreciate your kindness but I’ve a great deal to accomplish today.” Alisha feeling that she is losing her opportunity fast, asks with the abruptness of a child, “Why don’t you have any family or friends?” The words pierce like sharp shards of broken glass shot into Estelle’s heart, “It isn’t appropriate, dear to ask such personal questions of a stranger. I think it is time for you to run along.” With gentile niceties, Estelle rushes Alisha back out the gate and out of her safe, quiet world.

Estelle looks up and marvels at how quickly the blue sky had turned gray. With storm clouds looming and the humidity intensifying, she turns to putting away her gardening tools, and then suddenly, misses Caravana. “Kitty, kitty! Handsome Caravana! Where are you?” Thinking he may have followed her into the kitchen, Estelle goes inside to look for him. The door bell rings, again! Still calling for her feline best friend, Estelle dutifully, answers the door and there stands Alisha, holding a purring Caravana. Not waiting for an invitation she knows by now, probably won’t come, Alisha pushes her way in. “He followed me out of the gate and I was back home before I noticed him. He likes me I think.” Alisha is stunned by the interior of this average home. Everything is up-to-date and perfect like in a magazine. Above the fire-place is a portrait of a woman who resembles Mrs. Williams but she realizes right away the painting isn’t of her neighbor. There were also, lots of photographs of the same woman, in frames, scattered here and there around the room. So many clues to take note of but they only added to the mystery of “The Lone Lady” and offered no answers. “Your house is beautiful! Who is that woman?” Estelle weary of the intrusion decides to ignore Alisha’s questions, “Thank you for bringing Caravana home. Have a good day.” She takes the cat from the girl and shoos her out the door, locking it behind her.

Holding Caravanna close, Estelle sits down, gently on the pale-blue velvet couch and admires the expensive decor. Walls the color of banana cream pie add warmth to the light blue draperies and furnishings, highlighted with silver and a hint of rose. The fabrics are rich and expensive; the rugs thick with soft luxury. She feels proud of the work she’s done here and as she looks up at her mother’s portrait, asks out loud, “Do you like it, Momma? I know it’s still a small house but do you like it this way? I did it for you, Momma. Now, do you love me? Is it good enough?” Caravana responds to Estelle’s deep longing, stirred by the unwanted interaction of the morning, and snuggles his nose into her neck. Comforted but still shaken, Estelle tries to decipher the feelings Alisha brought to the surface. Still waters run deep and she preferred to keep the waters still with the hurt and confusion resting at the bottom. What was it about those eyes? It was Alisha’s huge, chocolate-brown, child eyes that drew her irresistibly, toward her but also, filled her with dread. She looked up at the portrait again and understood. The little girl’s eyes held the same expression as her mother’s. A chill she couldn’t name passed over her as the weight of the void pressed down. Exhausted, Estelle made her way to the back of the house and sought refuge in the heart of this shrine. Her mother’s room speaks of royalty, frivolity, and fairytales. Estelle faithfully, places fresh pink roses in this room every day, and their scent permeates this secret haven. With Caravana, she lies down on the sacred bed and cries herself to sleep, not understanding who she is crying for.

Estelle’s dreams tell her the truth of her inner mysteries and reveal the reason for her isolation. A nightmare that is somehow also, comforting. Most of her dreams will fade and the reckoning taking place in them will be forgotten by morning. What will remain is only a clue to the truth that is the key to unlocking the door shut on her life.

(To be Continued)

The Breach

January 7, 2016

An old woman sits on a bench, placed against a south facing wall, enjoying the sun as it melts aches and pains away. Lost in the bright warmth on her face, she begins to dream in reverse. Riding the rays of the sun, she finds herself transported to that special place, sitting on flag-stone, beneath the blooming bows of the old Lilacs at Grandma’s house. Such a sky on this day in early May; a vast dome of the bluest blue that only a child’s eyes can see! The scent of Lilac permeates everything, with the bushes themselves joining overhead in an embrace that provides protection for two little girls, immersed in imaginative play. With tulips and other spring flowers turned upside down to become dolls dressed in ball gowns; these happy girls dance the day away. Light gleams on the hair of the cotton-top girl’s curly hair, as if in competition with the sun. The older girl is darker and even this bright day only manages to pull a few golden highlights from the ashen, darker waves beneath. Sisters in deep contrast to one another but locked together by blood, trust, and love.

Lost in the dream of her memory, in the past as important as now, the old woman sighs as from this point in time, she starts to dream forward. She begins to roll away from this heavenly moment, this snippet of blissful harmony, down her road of life. So many rough spots, navigational mistakes, mud-holes, missed stop signs, and confusing intersections. Somewhere on the way, harmony was lost and the contrast became glaring. Blood wasn’t enough to hold these sisters together. Trust was broken. Love does remain but only, as a reminder of the relationship that once existed; but now, is a relationship severed in a fierce misunderstanding. Pride over-rode the bond of blood and to this day, frustrates love.

A dark, wet cloud passes overhead, blocking the sun. At the same moment, the old woman’s heart sinks with grief and her eyes flood with tears of loss; if only, they could go back to that happy day and find a way to blend the contrast of their personas. Though one child was assigned to be golden, and the other to be twilight, in that happy moment, the contrast worked as compliment. Was it jealousy that loomed and turned sisters to adversaries? Or was it as it seems to this old woman; that the golden child wanted to rule over the child made of twilight and when twilight came into her own, the one who shines even in competition with sun, couldn’t abide it. She knows deep down that neither of them can help the role they were assigned. For each there is no choice but to play it out. In heart, the old woman embraces her little sister, that cotton-topped little girl, and lovingly, forgives her(again) . Then more tears flood in realization that her forgiveness isn’t enough to restore them to sisterhood; it’s only half of what needs to be done. On the other half she must wait and never give up hope in the waiting.

When the longing is too much, she drifts backward to the moment that is part of her now, and warms her aches in the trust that only, loving sisters can know. Though trust is broken and takes two to mend, love remains. Where there is love, there is always hope for reconciliation.

Hope for a Little Girl in the Dark

January 3, 2016

Caste into the outer darkness by the forces of illness and neglect, a child grows in the absence of the comfort and nurture that ensures a child’s becoming whole. Suspended in isolation with nothing but childish, undeveloped thoughts and the voices from the outer-world (of the family) to keep her company, Ester gives into sleep. In her dreams the door to freedom opens and allows her to escape the loneliness of her dusky room. If it were not for sleep and dreams, the vacuum would consume her and she would evaporate to nothing. However, the benevolence that surrounds Ester, the presence she can feel but not name, enters her dreams and speaks the loving words she so desperately needs to hear. Ester has a destiny greater than the one assigned to her by poor health and negligent parents.

Floating in the void of aloneness, Ester knows nothing different and is unaware of the threat to her existence. The void wants to swallow her whole before the world knows of her but Ester has a gift; the ability to fight the void by the power of imagination. The presence never leaves her and though the isolation she endures would destroy most adults, Ester never feels lonely. The warmth of divine love surrounds her and keeps her alive in her dimly-lit room and fills her dreams with joyful images, experiences, and even a sense of self. In the world of flesh and blood, Ester is small and weak. However, in the world of her benevolently guided dreams, Ester is very strong.

In this gloomy room, Ester will face death and win. Even though she’s been in bed for many months and her legs are too weak to support her, she will learn to walk again. She will leave this room one day and enter the real world because the One who loves her has predestined it so. Though Ester will embrace the void for a short period of time, in a wrong-headed effort to subdue and overcome it, the void won’t be able to destroy her. Instead, the emptiness she will for a time internalize will make greater room for the filling of the Spirit of God, who hovers around her, limiting evil and working all to ultimate good. Though Ester has no definition now, of either the loving presence or the void, she knows each as her constant often, only companions. Though she is nothing in the world, even valued little by her parents, God will be glorified through her. Her life, her very existence will be a testimony of Jesus; when she lets go of the void and knowingly invites Him in. Though the world views Ester as having no identifiable purpose, as only a sick little girl wanted by no one, God has predestined His purpose for her in Christ and her purpose will be completed. The void will be filled by the divine light that is Jesus and Ester will know the outer darkness no more.

Hope Eternal

January 1, 2016

In the blush of a young child’s cheek,

And in the wrinkled smiling face

Of a kind old woman,

Hope is seen with no need to speak;

Good banishes evil, leaves no trace,

A journey to transcend;

Aged kind face, youth’s blushing cheek,

The Alpha and the Omega lace,

And form the eternal;

When child and grandmother, so meek,

Bonded in God, by His Grace,

Embrace and strengthen

Each; to overcome evil despite being weak.