And he never did, even after the many plans that we made; fantasies I now know.
The meeting at the bar in the hotel where I would wait with the excitement of young lovers, restrained familiarity. The coming upon each other on our favourite beach, where he, like me, would love to sit and listen to the waves in. The anticipation of the airport first encounter when he would exit the arrival hall and into my arms, or more I into his.
There will be no sitting on the deck of our beach home, at peace in each other’s company. No back rubs in the afternoon after a weary day of writing. Those meals we had savoured in our minds, the diverse flavours which our adventurous selves had vowed to experiment. Those carefree mornings, though few but complete with sensuous lovemaking and a bagel and coffee to follow.
To have the children visit on special occasions, bringing laughter and joy while we secretly looked forward to being on our own at night, if only so we could sing their praises of how they are faring in their world. To be comforted by how contented we are in ours.
So many dreams that will never come to pass.
Here they all are… my people here for me. I watch them making their way over, despite the dis-ease of being here, their love I can still feel. My boy holding himself so tightly… “It is alright, breathe”, I used to say to him. Wish I could now. It is indeed a beautiful gathering… everything organised to the finest detail. That’s her work. If this is how she copes, then I won’t complain. “Mum loved these purple hues,” I hear her say, graceful always no matter the circumstance. Losing one’s mother is not easy. I know.
If only they could see me… released from the ties that had bound me to them. If only they knew how important these ties were yet how restrictive they had been, how much sacrifice they had demanded of me. I had made them all. Perhaps they feel it now. Ah, but what use is that to me now. And …
Oh, who’s that… almost hidden behind the casuarina… looks like him… it cannot be … but how… It is him. He made it after all this time, well I guess better late than never. He looks as I remember him. Ironic after such indeterminate silence … I wonder if he will make his presence known, his identity … us. What will my people say?
That is no longer my concern. Time to go.
Is he waving at me? No… yes, he sees me but how… Oh dear man, is that why you never said goodbye.
“Oh my love…at last.”
********************************
My flash fiction challenge with RonovanWrites. Somewhat morbid…well, I sat down to write with the challenge of “Write about a family gathering” and this is what turned up.
– FlorenceT
© 2015 FlorenceT Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.
I loved this prose. The way you unfurled the story was very good. The last lines… perfect. I enjoyed this 🙂
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Thank you Vivian, I have a soft spot for this post… 🙂
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🙂
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Reblogged this on MEANINGS AND MUSINGS.
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I’m not as quick to realize the whole story as Sarina. I’m going to reread.
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Meredith, ☺ it’s no competition and hope you enjoy. Wishing you a beautiful Christmas filled with love and joy!
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Oh yes, I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t re- read if I didn’t. I being fitted with a sleep device for apnea. Hi I had a doctors appointment and complained about losing my memory. Dr. set up a sleep study and that’s how I found out.
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Hi Meredith, annoying gadget… 😯 though it would be brilliant to sleep through the night ☺. Be well. Be kind to yourself. 💙
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Er, both parents of the boy dead?
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Um, who do you mean? 🙂
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The boy in the story, you are writing from perspective of the deceased mother? But I re-read it- she had a lover, the family did not know about and it seems the lover is also dead at the end. Or am I reading it totally wrong?
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🙂 Sarina, you got it. Phew, for a while there I thought I wasn’t making sense…
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It’s a very catching story. Made take notice. 🙂
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