Trying to trace her last thoughts, Martha found herself staring at the swirl in her cup of coffee.  It seems they were all slipping away these days—those precious memories in her mind.  Like seeds carried on the wind, her memories would scatter. 

 

What was it she was going to do today?  Oh yes, that’s right, she was going to run an errand. 

Where was she supposed to go again?  She stared a little longer, watching the swirls in her coffee made by her little stir. 

The Post Office? No.  That wasn’t it. 

The Grocery Store?  No, she was there yesterday. 

The Bank? Yes that was it, the bank.  But why? 

She really didn’t remember now.  What she did remember is that she was all alone and desperately trying to hang on to any thoughts and memories she knew she should have.   

She would call her son Davy, but he lived too far away.  She’d call Tommy, her youngest son, but he seemed to get so mad at her, like when she brought home that cat.  She didn’t want Tommy to be mad.  She didn’t need the stress.  She would call--

It didn’t matter, she couldn’t find her address book anyway.  And what good would it be?  Most of the people in it had moved or died. 

As she took a sip from her cup, she wished she could go back, return to a time when Joe was still alive and the kids still came around.  She would tell them how much they meant to her.  She didn’t do enough of that back then.  At least it didn’t seem so now. 

She’d call up her sister Orphie and make amends.  Or maybe she already did? She couldn’t remember now. She never did understand why they never got along. Too bad Orphie wasn’t around any more. Oh what she would give to go back and do it right.

And she take better care of Joe.   She’d make him quit those cigarettes.  If only she could have convinced him—he wouldn’t have died such a painful death. Her heart ached at the thought.

Most importantly, she would take lots of pictures and write things down.  She never thought she’d have these moments when her memories went missing—and how it only came back to her in bits and pieces.  She never thought she couldn’t recall the names of her kids and grandkids.  She never thought she’d forget where she was going to go that day.  It seemed now, when she pulled out a paper and a pen she could hardly remember what she needed to write down so she wouldn’t forget.

Finishing her coffee, the thought floated by, “The Bank,” and she latched onto that thought before she dared to forget again.   She stood up slowly, letting her hips, knees, and legs adjust, and then she grabbed her walker.  She went into her living room and grabbed her purse and her keys and headed for the door.

“Where you going Mom?” came the familiar voice.

“I have to go to the bank and run an errand.” she hollered back without turning around, heading out the door before she forgot.  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Whoa, wait a second!”  Her voice was really familiar, but she couldn’t quite connect to it.

“No. No!  I have to hurry!” she was out the door and on her way to the driveway.

She looked around.  Where was her car? 

It didn’t matter because the thought she clung to so desperately was gone.

“Mom, come on back inside.” pled the voice. “You can’t go without your shoes.”

She turned and looked.  Staring back at her was a woman that was a spitting image of herself 35 years ago.  Who was this woman? 

“Orphie?” she asked puzzled. 

“No Mom, it’s Gina.” she replied, directing her back inside.

“Gina?” she asked in a puzzled haze.

“Yes, Gina.  You remember, Davy, Tommy, and Gina?”

She faked a smile, “Yes dear, how could I forget?” she paused for a moment, “Where’s my car?”

‘You don’t have a car anymore mom, you stopped driving 8 years ago.”

Now she was more confused than ever.  How would she run her errand…to the----

“I couldn’t have. I need to run an errand.” she insisted.

“Which errand is that?” the girl pressed on.

“I don’t know…I just know I had to go run an errand today.”

“Mom come sit down and let’s have some coffee.  Does that sound like a good idea?”

Martha nodded.  Coffee always sounded like a good idea.

The girl brought her over some coffee and she took her stir—swirling it around.

“How’s your coffee, Mom?” her voice was gentle.

All at once it came to her as she uttered it aloud. “Gina Marie Koslowski”

“You remembered!” Her face had beamed.

“Oh how could I forget?” Martha was on the verge of tears.  “This damn memory of mine. I just can’t find …” frustration over took her and she was getting angry. “Find what I want to remember.  Like the puzzle pieces aren’t there.”

“It’s okay Mom—it is called Alzheimer's.  I don’t want you to worry though, someone is always here to look out for you.  You are never alone.”

She looked at her confused again. “Why are you here?”

“I live here,” she chuckled.  “Besides, someone has to look after you when you go to the bank without your shoes.” she said reassuring.

She found that last part funny, who goes to the bank without their shoes she thought.  Then she looked down.  Trying to put the pieces together wasn’t easy. She insisted one last time, “I have to go run an errand.”

“You don’t have a car.” Her daughter reminded. “You stopped driving 8 years ago.”

She stirred her coffee some more. Eight years ago was a long time not to remember she stopped driving.  What did she remember?  Oh yes, there was one thing she remembered, “Joe died.  He died 12 years ago.”  She was confident she got this right.

She could see the girls face—somber with a tinge of sadness. “Daddy died about 16 years ago Mom,” she said softly.

16 years?  How could it have been that long ago.  She only remembered it being 12 years ago.  She slowly brought the cup to her lips.  She took in a sip.  She could never forget the taste of a good cup of coffee.

“I think I better go lie down.” Martha said.

“Okay, come on Mom, let’s take you to your room.”

Martha followed the girl on an unfamiliar path, to an  unfamiliar bed.  She didn’t remember any of it.  She laid down and her daughter covered her with a blanket.  “Get some rest Mom, I’ll be here when you wake.”

She didn’t want to wake.

She closed her eyes and she thought of her sister, Orphie.  She thought of her three children, Davy, Tommy, and Gina.  She dreamt of her Joe.  A few more pieces of the puzzle began to scatter once again, although she tried to hang on to what she could.  If only she could turn back the clock, and remember all she used to know.

**This was written for BFF 241 Turn Back the Clock.  This is a work of Fiction.**

The stars gaze down, twinkling in all their splendor.  The nascent tide rolls in—waves gently crashing onto the shore.  The wind breezes softly, carrying the scent of the salty ocean—refreshing my mind and awakening my soul.

I find myself in a precarious spot—as I walk along this starlit beach.  Which direction shall I go? My spirit is adventurous and seeks to explore and learn of new places. I want to experience this world, travel, and live life.  I am young and I know no boundaries.  And yet, there is a love so real and so desirable, right here, if I choose to stay.  A love that is steadfast and unwavering, and wants only to be with me.  A love that makes me feel secure and I feel I belong.  And yet, that love won’t wait for me.

So it is a choice I must make—here tonight.  To stay here with the love of a lifetime—or live the life of my dreams.  Will I have regrets…will I feel held back if I stay or will I miss the feeling of being rooted if I go? What awaits for me either way—is unknown and there are no guarantees.  I know my decision will not be easy…for in each there is a loss and a gain. 

I stroll further down the beach and rest on a large rock.  I pick up a few stones and toss them one by one into the ocean.  Each stone I throw into the sea represents a thought.  One stone in the ocean is a thought about staying here and the next throw is a thought about living my dreams.  As each stone meets the water—I feel the weight of my decision as it ripples out from my center.

The breeze turns into a light wind…I feel the chill across my shoulders and long for his touch.  I envision his arms around me, his sweet words whispering in my ear, tickling my soul while shielding me from the cold.  At the same time—the coolness makes my senses come alive, the scent enchanting, the sounds musical, the sight dazzling, the touch riveting, oh I can taste the desire in my soul.

Desire and Love have never crossed my path in such heartbreaking and enchanting ways.  My decision is no closer to resolution. My mind can only be delighted by the here and now—by the wonder of the ocean as it moves mightily beneath the night sky.  I’m torn and I’m whole all in the same breathe.

A couple passes by and breaks the spell. I watch for a moment as they stagger along the edge of the sea.  Happiness is a choice.  Love can come around more than once.  The desires of the heart never fade.  My choice seems to renew a sense of urgency within me.  I climb down from my spot and I turn to leave, for there is no holding back a dream when you’re this close.

 

xxx

**Written for BFF #113—Sweet Dreams and Wishes**

***Also Written for The Writers’ Post picture prompt + use the word nascent***

 

 

 

The water was beginning to boil and she noticed the condensation on the window.  It was brisk outside for this early September afternoon, as the steam in the kitchen made her wipe down the window several times so she could see out. 

Sharon felt the emptiness of being home alone.

Katie now off to college—she wasn’t prepared for the empty nest syndrome.  Sure she had heard of it—never really contemplated it—until it was suddenly her turn.  She thought perhaps she would have been prepared for this because Craig and Devon had left years earlier, making the house a little less full.  But nothing could prepare her for letting the youngest go.  Sure she was only 50 miles away, but the house was still empty, she was still alone.

Her broth was at a full boil—now what was she planning to make? Oh yes, Hodgepodge soup.  She had a separate smaller pot boiling water for the pasta.  Where was that box anyway?  There it was, on the top shelf.  Surely, she wasn’t losing her mind.  It was just the stress—of silence that surrounded her. It really wasn’t supposed to be like this—and she pushed the thought from her mind.

That was when Charley hobbled into the kitchen.  Charley was an adorable, overweight basset hound.  She and Charley had bonded when her husband  suddenly left in June.  They both had taken to eating through this emotionally turbulent time—way too much—and both were in a race for the finish line.  Which one could gain the most pounds by the next phone call from that no good two-timing, I’m off in the Bahama’s with my sexy 20-something of a girlfriend, male whore, would be the clear winner—or loser.  Perspective says a lot.  She was supposed to be on that trip.  That was her ticket he used to take that bimbo.  PUSH-PUSH-PUSH.  No she was not the only one that felt Bill’s loss—poor Charley did too.  You could tell just by looking at his bloodshot eyes.

She poured the noodles into the boiling water…gave it a quick stir and set her timer for 8 minutes.  She chopped up some chicken breast and took her frozen vegetables and added them in the larger pot of boiling broth.  Yes—hodgepodge soup was just what was called for on a day like today.  Something to warm the soul.  She turned the radio on, that hung under the cabinet next to the kitchen window and found a station.  Within moments, she had to shut it off.  It had to be a cruel joke that they would play Strawberry Fields Forever.  Yes a song that was memorable to her and that man-whore of a husband, way back when.

But really, what could she have done?  She kept the house neat and tidy for years.  She worked part-time, bringing in a nominal income. She played soccer mom and PTA president.  She attended social functions with her husband, worked out regularly, gave him the best of her.  It was maddening what he had done.  It hurt.  And yet—all she wanted was for Bill to come home and give her a second chance.

Stirring the pot again she had to chuckle.  But really, would she give him a second chance??  And that is where her heart was conflicted.  Part of her really wanted to…but part of her could never completely forgive him for what he’d done.  Part of her wanted to strangle him and castrate him and make him feel her pain.  Part of her just wanted to walk away.  Another part—just wanted to put things back together the way they were.  But then—how could he not have been happy with the way things were?  How long had this infidelity gone on?  STOP!! Push-Push-PUSH!

She had to push it from her mind and not deal with it. Not tonight.  The timer rang.  She took her ladle and tasted the soup.  Pepper! It needs pepper!! She declared silently.  And she reached to the spice rack to dash in some black pepper.  Stirring again, she tasted it.  Perfect.  Now she would let it simmer for an hour.  Charley gave her that look.  It was time.

She grabbed her jacket and took Charley for a nice walk.  Came back in from the outdoors and fed him a treat.  Something good had come from all of these changes.  She and Charley had made friends.  Both betrayed by Bill—they finally formed a friendship…whereas before…they were both vying for his attention. PUSH PUSH PUSH!  She walked over to check on her soup.  Almost done.

The phone rang and had nearly startled her into a heart attack.  Whose idea was it to turn the volume up that high?  She recognized the number and answered, “Hello…I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever hear from you again?”  His soft tenor voice sent chills up and down her spine. “No, not much, just making Hodgepodge soup.” 

The pushing got easier.

Maybe she wouldn’t be home alone tonight.

She could feel him even though he was on the other end of the line.

She hung up the phone with a slight grin on her face.

“You’ll understand, won’t you Charley?”

 

**This post was written for both the BFF and the McBlogerry groups on Facebook under the themes: Positive out of Negative, Home Alone, Strawberry Fields for Ever and Second Chance.  Interested in blogging challenges—consider joining one of these groups!!