By David Newcomer
My brother and I didn’t always fight, but that’s mostly what I remember. When the island was overturned in the kitchen and the tile floor was cracked, my mother disappeared for three days. At the time I didn’t understand where she’d gone. I assumed to my aunt’s house.
Talking to my dad now—and with the perspective afforded by the passing of twenty-five years—I’ve forgiven my brother and myself for their divorce.
The house hasn’t changed much. The brown fiberglass awnings and the evergreen shrubs are gone from the front. The neighbor glances a second time as I drive on.
Memories sometimes are pretty sad 🙁
Sad, but written well. Nice work.
Thanks, Lisa.
Poignant. I particularly like the neighbour’s second glance.
Thanks, Cath. I’ve always liked that word.
Beautifully written. I like the emotional-camera-like qualities within it. Very clever in places: talking to my dad NOW. The last paragraph is great.That first sentence in it, takes you SO much further….. There is huge awareness & feeling in this work. Learned wisdom too—-always SO much better than hate, bitterness, anger, resentment…..
Lyn Bowler.
Thank you, Lyn. I appreciate the feedback and am glad I was able to convey those feelings.
In my book, this one easily wins Best Story of the Day.
Thanks, Bobby.
Oh, yes – well done. And so many of us have had that view, sometimes from inside, sometimes from outside.