|Nineteen Thirty-Five Once More (standard:poetry, 438 words)|
|Author: Sarah||Added: Apr 02 2001||Views/Reads: 2240/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Reflections on my aging parents.|
Nineteen Thirty-Five Once More A tear rolled slowly down my face and then another as the song playing on the radio forced its way into my consciousness breaking my concentration as I sat at my computer typing the stories from the tapes Someone is singing about love and an old-fashioned girl . . . An old-fashioned girl that was my mom, for sure straight from the farm in Tennessee visiting her Michigan relatives when she and my dad first met it must have been one reason my shy, handsome father fell in love with her A mental picture of my mom and dad young, beautiful, and happy as they stand beside a 1934 Ford decorated with wedding day paraphernalia appears before my misting eyes The image comes with vivid clarity the result of seeing the photograph many times in the years since they posed on that long ago day in Nineteen Thirty-Five The tears flow freely and my heart is squeezed with pain as I am forced to acknowledge the reality of the present The present . . . in which they are old, and frail, and fragile Daddy with his failing eyesight and broken knee cap from a recent fall down the porch steps encased in a cast from hip to ankle unable to sit at his computer to enter, compute, and rearrange the data that helps keep his mind alert (Eighty-two in years he may be, mentally a man of the nineties is my dad) Mom conscientiously puttering about her home as usual frequently disoriented and forgetful the ten-foot fall from the dock at the lake four years ago has broken more than a vertebrae something broke inside her head as well and now she can't remember where she puts things and forgets what you say to her Sometimes she knows she's forgetful and it hurts her so sometimes she doesn't and it hurts me so That beautiful unlined face as youthful as a woman half her age a visible legacy of her Indian ancestry I put my now forgotten tape aside and go to the phone to call my aging parents and tell them once again how dear they are to me I make them promise they will sit on the couch and hold each other's hand and stare at the frayed and fading pictures of those long ago times that evoke precious memories of a time when they were young and new in love * * * * * As they gaze into each other's eyes the years will fall away and for a little while today it will be Nineteen Thirty-Five once more Tweet
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