Today is my birthday!

"The woods are deep and dark..."

“Today is a good day!” 

That phrase escaped Helen’s lips as a sigh.  Helen could remember what happened all that day:  breakfast, how good the oatmeal tasted;   and, even the joke her nurse Alice made about Helen’s thick curly white hair.

“Why, you have more hair on your head than I had when I was only twenty!”  They both had laughed.  It was true; even at the age of eighty, Helen had fluffy thick hair that looked like a cloud or a mound of snow.

‘It’s my birthday!  Today!’  The thought occurred to Helen as she moved to the window.  ‘My daughter Maude is coming in a while and she will bring my favorite cake.’  Helen even remembered the phone call she had received from Maude just minutes ago.  ‘It’s my birthday!’

Alice walked to Helen’s side and took her elbow.  “Would you like to sit on the deck, Helen?  It’s a rare lovely day, and Lord knows, we won’t have many more of those when winter moves in on us!”

“Oh, Alice!  I would love that.  Maude will be here shortly, and I want her to see me sitting outside.  To see me enjoying the last leaves.” Helen’s brown eyes sparkled at the thought of Maude coming and finding that today Helen remembered her oldest child.

Alice escorted Helen to the outdoor chairs.  Helen was still vigorous, strong, and often argued with Alice about all the ‘fussing over me—I am not a child, you know…’  Alice spread a pale pink lap quilt over Helen, and told her that Maude would love to see this quilt being used.

The woods before her were filled with leaf-covered paths.  The last golden leafs reminded her of a “yellow brick road” from that movie.  ‘What was it?  Oh, the “Wizard of Oz”…’  Her eyes followed the paths and the bare branches arched over the yellow leaf paths.

Helen used to gather up those leaves into bouquets and give them to her mother, “A last bouquet ‘fore the snows, Mama!”

An idea sparked in her tired brain, and she acted on it.  “A bouquet!  That’s what I’ll have when Maude comes!  She will be so surprised!” 

Her feet moved down the steps and onto the paths, the pale pink quilt slipping to the deck. 

Helen was sure she knew this path, from somewhere.  ‘Oh, yes!  This is the path I always take when I take walks.  Take walks?  Oh, of course.  Mama wants me to get some flowers for the table at dinner.’ 

Helen walked forward into the fog of the days behind her, into the fog that came over her mind.

Hands filled with leaves, Helen sat down on an old fallen log and looked around her.  She was so tired.  Letting herself slide down the side of the log, Helen curled up against it, and laid her head onto the rough bark. ‘I’ll rest here for just a moment.  Mama will be cross if I’m late.’

Snow started falling slowly at first and then built up speed.  Soon the paths, branches, fallen trees, and an old woman with fluffy white hair were covered in a layer that made the world white.

The voices calling ‘Helen!’  went unanswered.  As the day moved into night and the snow grew from a few inches to a solid foot, the voices turned to sobs.

On the table in Helen’s room sat a pink birthday cake.  Maude knew that Helen like the color pink.

from Bing.com

 p.s.  This story is based on a true event.  My father's cousin developed Alzheimer's in her later years, and left her caretaker's house. She was found when the snows melted, not too far from her house. 


Alzheimer's is a terrible thief.

Yes, I am sassy....

Sassy Lady Bloggers

Are you sassy enough?

Thank you, Mamawolfe, for nominating me for the ‘Sassy’ Award!  I must tell seven things about myself, and pass the award onto others. 

*In first grade, my teacher kept me after school until it was dark because I refused, and I mean refused to draw a turkey with its tail feathers up and all different colors.  I drew turkey after turkey, each time with its tail feathers down.  I kept telling her that 1) only male turkeys raised their tail feathers, and 2) they were speckled brown.  Seeing wild turkeys most of my six years, I knew this to be the truth.  She finally gave up.

*I once said “Son of a bitch” to my fourth sixth grade teacher.  A boy dared me to say it.  You see, I really didn’t know it was swearing.  My brothers, father, and grandfather said that phrase several times a day.  I didn’t get in trouble, but it was a close call.

*My brother Robert could persuade me to do almost anything.  Once he talked me into cleaning a catfish he had caught.  I had cleaned other fish, but they had scales.  The catfish had to be skinned.  I did it, but never again.

*The only thing I ever shoplifted was an English walnut.  I was four years old, shopping with my mother at our small local grocery store.  I came upon a huge box of these nuts, and each one had a blue diamond stamped on it.  I got so excited.  I took one and ran out to the car where my grandmother (a strict woman, let me tell you) was waiting.  I showed it to her, and she bawled me out.  She marched me inside, made me apologize to the owner, and put the nut back.  You can tell how traumatized I am.

*In fourth sixth grade (obviously a big year) a kind neighbor discovered that I loved art.  She painted in oil, producing lovely stuff.  One day she showed up at our farm house with all sorts of almost empty tubes of oil paint, a variety of brushes, and a “How to Paint” book by John/Jon Gnagy.  Her kindness set my love for art on fire.  I will never forget her.

*When I was a young mother with three children, my husband’s family owned real estate company purchased a hotel in Ireland.  We sold everything we owned, packed up the rest into a crate the side of a small garden shed, and moved to County Cork.  For three + years, we owned and operated the property along with my brother-in-law, Patrick.  Oh, the stories I could tell on that.

*When we returned to California from Ireland, I started/re-started teaching at the age of 37.  Everyone assumed I was very experienced and a ‘master teacher’.  It was the steepest and most exciting learning curve I have ever had to do.  I loved it.

There you go: more than you ever wanted to know about me!  Since this is such a busy time, I will select only a few other sassy writers I know:

Elephant's Child

Joanne

American in Bath

P.S.  Please cut and paste the award.  I am inept in these lines.

Sunshine!

Our granddaughter, Sunshine, continues to be a fount of wisdom, a source of great insight.  With her clear view of ‘what should be’, Sunshine gives us all a reasoned out perspective on almost anything

Want a unique view of space and the universe?  Read ‘Sunshine and the Solar System’.

Struggling with unruly spontaneous children?  Read ‘Sunshine and Self-Control’.

Ever wonder why one has eaten enough broccoli or meatloaf, and yet, has room for ice cream?  Sunshine has been explaining that to us.

I had fixed a great baked ziti dinner complete with green salad, garlic bread, and dessert.  I had worked most of two hours on it, which also included doing yesterday’s dishes while the girls cleaned the TV room. 

The delicious smell of Italian food and copious amounts of garlic greeted my son-in-law and then my daughter when they came home from work.  The table was set by the girls, my husband had filled the water glasses—dinner was ready.

With great flourish we all sat down to eat.  While the rest of the family dived in to eating, Sunshine pushed her noodles around with her fork, scraping off the sauce and meat.  After just a few bites, she announced that she was full, and ready for dessert.

Mommy handled it well.  “Sunshine, you have to eat your salad and noodles.  No, no more bread!  No, you can’t have a second glass of milk.”  The ‘No’ went on for a while.

Sunshine burst out, “But, Mommy!  The noodle and salad side of my tummy are full!”   

Courtesy of Bing.com:  Apparently this is a common belief.

She pulled up her shirt and explained how her stomach was divided in to compartments.  Over here was the noodle compartment, and it was way full; over there was the salad compartment, and it also was going to blow up.  The bread side could use another slice or two, and the milk side was virtually dry.

Since then, Sunshine has used this compartmental stomach claim many times.  She never wins, but I do believe there is some truth to her claims.  

Bring on the dessert, Sunshine.  I am with you.