Through My Eyes....
By: Jacqueline E. Hughes
The woman sits at the breakfast nook sipping her second cup of coffee of the morning and stares out at the swimming pool which lies beyond the thick panes of glass of the cozy little room. The gentle rainfall is sifted through the screen enclosure and reminds her of confectioner's sugar being used to decorate baked sweets. Instantly her outdoor scene is illuminated by shafts of golden light as the cloud cover parts just enough to allow the glorious sun to take stage front and center. She's been down here long enough now to have witnessed this spectacular scene often and never takes for granted the heavenly merging of water and light that has certainly produced a Kodak moment up in the sky somewhere beyond the roofline of the neighboring houses.
Deftly unscrewing the cover of the carafe in front of her a half a turn, she proceeds to pour herself another cup of the steaming brew while subconsciously humming an old familiar tune. John Fogarty wants to know if she's ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day? as she twists the cover closed once again. Chuckling to herself, she takes pride in the fact that the music produced in the '60's and '70's thrives today and has gratefully been passed down through the years to remain as popular as ever.
Often she thinks of herself in this same way; produced in the '50's yet thriving sixty-one years later and humming a CCR tune while sitting under an unseen Floridian rainbow. This makes her very happy and a smile slowly spreads across her smooth, unblemished face.
She lifts the coffee mug up towards her and sees the picture of two of her young grandchildren emblazoned in living color on its front.....a perfect gift for Mother's Day. A perfect gift because they live so far away now. Life has changed so much for her within the last twelve months or so, at least how she had come to perceive her life to be. She has never been afraid of change, at least not before last year, that is. For her, now, change has become unbearable at times. After all, she is living in a new, unstable world and lifestyle changes have blindsided her life so often lately.
Gently scooting away from the glass tabletop, the woman walks to the sink to rinse out her precious mug and proceeds to place it in the dishwasher. She knows that Life can be wonderful. Having five adorable grand babies to love proves that. Having an adoring, attentive husband proves that. Knowing that together they have raised two fantastic daughters, also proves how important her life has been for so many others who comfortably reside within it. Doesn't it? She asks herself why does she feel so sad most of the day? Is it normal to be able to smile while thinking of rainbows, music and beautiful babies and then do a one-eighty into the dumpster ten beats later? She thinks that it never use to be that way....... Now, it's a fact of her life.
She notes that the sun has conquered the best efforts of the morning drizzle and is quickly drying off the shell embedded pavers that surround the custom-shaped pool. She remembers how much fun it was to design their pool almost seven years ago and to implement texture and color into the design with good use of tiles, Pebble-Tech finishes and brass Fleur de Lis fountains adorning the backdrop she now associates with having her morning coffee. She remembers the many hours her husband slaved landscaping around the pool deck perimeter as a stone retaining wall was built to contain the earth around the structure because the elevation of the backyard rose some three feet above the level of the foundation of the house itself. At least they could retain the young live oak tree that lives to the right of the pool on a small hill. She's amazed at how that smallish tree now lords over pool, yard and house today.
Grandchildren, pets and armies of small lizards have marched repeatedly along the network of narrow stone paths they created to nurture her desire.....no, her need to assimilate a life in France, complete with a small bistro table and two small chairs glazed over with characteristic rust from living out among the elements for so long. The table is tucked behind the house and resides under the infamous oak tree. She can remember purchasing each one of the cobalt blue ceramic pots of various sizes and shapes that flank the paths offering a visual of deep color on the outside, as well as muted colors from the seasonal arrangements of plants and flowers growing from the aromatic soil within. Often her mantra is "nothing dies in Florida" and she has many resurrected plants to prove this theory considering her thumb has never taken on any known shade of the color green. She chuckles to herself whenever this theory is wishfully applied to humankind. "What an interesting world that would be" is an understatement.
Detecting movement out of the corner of her eye, she turns slightly to see three scrawny squirrels playing a game of tag along the tall fence behind the pool. If her dog wasn't napping under the window in their spare bedroom, he certainly would be, tail wagging wildly, begging her to be 'let out' beyond the massive sliding glass door that separates him from his chattering foe. She harbors animosity toward the critters herself recalling the damage to property they've inflicted by chewing through the plastic water lines of the solar panels up on the roof used to heat the pool. "Those damn rodents!," her husband would shout, secretly wishing a timely demise to each and every one of them. She thinks his Irish intensity is still both sexy and cute and remains a huge part of his charm after all of their years together.
For her, life has become a compilation of positives vs. negatives with her emotions running the gambit from very high to very low in a matter of minutes. And, she knows that because she voluntarily removed herself from working outside the parameter of her home office over eight years ago, whom she believed to be close friends and ex-working associates, blew away in time like crisp autumn leaves in a soft breeze.......like so many things in her life. No one to talk with or pour her heart out to when highs became lows and she needed them most; whenever her soul and spirit craved the understanding and sympathy of another female. She knows that she's always been told what a 'good listener' she is herself which has contributed greatly to her profession. More often than not, she became the listener during rare workday lunches or Saturday morning breakfasts at the airport Cracker Barrel where comfort food and a sympathetic ear were served-up as if both were a part of the restaurant's bulky, extensive menu. But these sessions dwindled and disappeared as 'life' got in the way and everyone navigated towards tiny pockets of family protectiveness as rough economic times began to threaten the security and innocent hopefulness associated with living from day to day. Old friendships just blew apart in the wind.
Taking her wandering thoughts with her, the woman navigates the short hallway that connects the main living area to her working office space. She finds their shaggy housemate is now warming the soft wool area rug that anchors the oversized oak desk and warm leather chair......her second home.......as he patiently awaits her routine arrival. She firmly believes that in the time it takes to drink three mugs of steaming hot coffee and throw her own "pity party" while doing it, she's more than ready to tackle, hmm, twenty-five to thirty solid pages this morning?! If she is lucky......
Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
Photo © 2014 Jacqueline E. Hughes
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