literature
Families and literature go hand in hand; fictional families to entertain, reflect and inspire.
Unlikely Match
EverythinEverything seemed quiet. I can see people around me, stopping to talk to me, but it all seemed surreal. I couldn't understand any of the conversations. As I sat there, my thoughts ran away with my memories. It was a sunny day in May, 1969. The sun shone so bright that it glinted off of the red sports car that stopped to pick me up. Jeff's green eyes shone as he stopped in front of my porch. "Are you ready, Nancy? " he called over to me. "I certainly am", I giggled. I walked over to the car as the driver leaned over and the door popped open. Jeff was as handsome as the first day I met him 3 years earlier in freshman year. His green eyes complimented his dark curly hair and chiseled features. He had a nice smile.. genuine. I cant believe he asked me on a date. I always thought he was into all the cheerleaders and popular girls. Not me, the book worm. I smiled as I tried to hide my nervousness. Off we went.. the sun started to sink in the sky. We were going to the Italian Villa, a classy restaurant on the other side of town near the river. I have never been there but heard all the girls talk about it. We stopped in front as the valet came to the car. Jeff handed him the keys as he came around and opened my door. We went inside and Jeff told the hostess his name. She showed us to a table near the window. The white tablecloth and the lit candle made the silverware shine. It was just as I had dreamed. I looked out the window as the river flowed past carrying a family of ducks. I smiled as i watched them. Jeff saw me smile…"A penny for your thoughts", Jeff commented. "Im just watching the ducks and how they swim together, following one another. A real family. " Jeff smiled, too. The waiter, who introduced himself as Todd, asked if he could get us a drink. Jeff answered, " can you recommend a wine?" As Todd handed him a wine list. Todd replied, " I would recommend a nice Merlot. " Jeff told him that we would have a bottle. The wine tasted really nice. Smooth and fruity. We looked at the menu and ordered. We talked throughout dinner.. the wine helped me relax. After dinner, he drove me home and asked if he could see me again...I of course, said yes....that date turned into a second, third, fourth... engagement, wedding... Someone touched my arm. " Nancy, Father Rinaldi wants to begin the ceremony." I started to hear the drone of all the people around me... and saw the priest standing in front of a .....coffin. I looked down at my hands clutching a white hankie embroidered with blue flowers. Jeff gave me that hanky years ago on a beautiful spring day. My hands were wrinkly ... I looked at a card...Jeffrey Singer, born June 23, 1943. Died July, 17, 2019 was written on it. 50 years.... 50 years had passed since my first date with Jeff. We had a wonderful life together. 50 years.. the war when he went over seas right after high school… the separation when i wasnt sure if he would come back home, alive. 4 children, a house with a white picket fence, vacations, holidays, family... And love. .lots of love.... and to think it all started on a sunny day in May and a bottle of Merlot.
By Elaine Dembowski5 years ago in Families
Gone But Not Forgotten
Chapter 9 The hospital has become Doug’s safe haven and our home became mine. I never drove anywhere anymore hell I never left the house. Somehow it just became the norm, Doug did all the shopping. The change just kind of snuck up on us. I don’t think either of us really paid attention to it. We were both so caught up in trying to cope that we forgot how to live. It started with the little things, someone always had to be home. With Edna gone that fell to me. I couldn’t even bear to walk down the drive to the mailbox-what if the phone rang and no one answered? What if it was Tim? I had figured out how long it took to get from room to room so that I never missed a phone call. It just simply got to the point that one day I just never left the house again. At first I don’t think Doug even noticed, when he finally figured it out he would try and coax me out.
By Jacqueline March5 years ago in Families
A Letter to Myself for Someone Else
To the girl who is always smiling, determined to show the world positivity even when she forgets to save some for herself. To the girl who ignites the spark in eyes that were convinced they would never be seen, who finds genuine joy in discovering other people's happiness. To the one whose heart breaks when she overhears someone being rude to their cashier, who was once on the other side of that transaction and could transform the frowns that were brought to her into belly laughs that healed both of us, even if just for a second. This is for the girl who tries so hard to love the world, despite the amount of time it has denied her of the love that she deserves. To the one who will never surrender her soul because she is certain it was made to heal the pain created on this planet, even through the moments she cannot find the energy to heal herself. You my dear, are the strongest woman I know.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Families
Dancing on the Piano.
"Dancing on the Piano" Listening to our boss reading the end report wishing this work day would be over, looking outside as the sun goes down into night fall, all I can think about is going home, take a shower and sip on a glass of Merlot. Finally 6:00 pm has come and I can go home to relax and have a good weekend living the single life.
By Shelly Maxwell Maxwell5 years ago in Families
Goodbye for now
I was at the verge of a new life. I was still there, but I could feel myself gravitating elsewhere. The life I had was fading from my thoughts and all I could focus on was the life that was ahead of me. New place, new people, new experiences, new everything that was just out of reach. I could not help but look beyond what was right in front of me and I was engulfed by the possibilities. Like any moment, but especially then, I knew I would never be the same.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Families
The visit
The visit I had seen it in movies. God bless it wasn’t raining. The window was open, it was always open because it had no handle. My pants were half way on my calves as I was in the middle of taking a crap, a large one because for breakfast I had a large burrito portion at Pedro’s, just around the corner. I heard the knocking on the front door despite the bathroom was locked and the aircon was pumping like a whore. The son of a bitch was banging so hard that the whole house was shacking. They don’t say your name, those pests. They just bang hard until you go and open the fucking door. They had come already for other reasons in the past but I knew this time they were not going to stop so I’d better prepare. I was even considering moving home but I had not yet talked to Mrs Ramirez. This was no Katy. This was east downtown, the bad part of it and before lesbians started populating it. If a landlord wanted you out, it took you five minutes to see your things thrown on the driveway but, if it was you who wanted to go, they came up with all sort of reasons to take your money. That morning I ended up going to the garage in my undershirt and that was fun for the boys who could admire my hairy armpits. They made a joke or two but I sent them straight to hell with their mothers before going back to the engine of the old Corvette I was working on in those days. It was a C4 from 1985. Under my hands that bird was going to sing again like a little robin but I needed no shitbag walking around and telling things about my underwear to do my magic. When I went back home that evening I made sure there was nobody around before I went to collect the notice that the banger had left in the porch. Without opening it, I ripped it off in four pieces and threw it straight into the black bin. As I had no keys with me I had to go back to the bathroom window to get inside. I walked around my own house feeling like a thief. Madison’s son watched in his own way, with the eyes pointing in another direction. As it goes in one’s life it was more difficult to get in than it was to get out of that bloody window. With my hands covered in grease and oil, I ended up making a mess everywhere. I went in with my head and banged on the toilet with the rest of my body.
By Davide Rubini5 years ago in Families
