A series of essays.....
 |
| HOLDING OUR FUTURE IN MY ARMS |
.....as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E. Hughes
Sitting alone in my work space, otherwise known as
snuggling in a corner of the living room couch, i-Pad on lap, I luxuriate in the
comforting household sounds that surround me.
Sometimes we hear the sounds that make-up our daily
life. More often than we'd like to admit, we do not. Call it being preoccupied,
in deep concentration, or simply oblivious to what transpires around us....life
is happening in many forms with each breath we take.
On this day, especially, I am taking the time to examine
my life, my personal surroundings, and make note of each slight degree of
difference that makes up my days of writing. After all, life is a rich artistic
performance, full of nuance.
Today is particularly important because it is
International Women's Day.....but, with a twist! "A Day Without a Woman" march
and protest coincides with the celebration of women in general as it rallies for
equal rights for women all over the world. The action is aimed at showing the
economic importance and impact of women on society. And, yes....I'm ashamed that
in the year 2017, women must continue the fight to be seen and treated as 'equals'
alongside of men!
So, I am doing my part.
Today we are between guests staying here with us at our
home in Florida. Part of living in this amazingly comfortable climate in Florida
is celebrating the warm, non-humid days and cool, 'windows opened' nights that
give us so much sleeping pleasure. Moving here from Michigan nearly twenty years
ago, I know how blessed I am each time I think about all of the brutal winters
spent up north.
Always having wanted to run my own Bed & Breakfast
out of our Victorian home in Eaton Rapids, Michigan, I find the next best thing is
to have as many relatives and friends stay down here with us whenever and as
often as they can. This winter has been the fulfillment of this dream and,
somehow, sharing the comforts of a home you've stockpiled with so much hard work
and care with those you love, makes me happy. I, deliciously, compare it to
enjoying the rich cream that floats up to the top of the glass milk
bottle.
I began paying attention to the 'sounds of my day' while getting out of bed this morning and making a note of each one, beginning with
the gentle drip, drip of freshly brewing coffee filling the carafe. I color most
of my activities for the day in a 'gentle protest' that coincides with each and
every woman who is actively marching her way into history along the streets of
New York City, Washington D.C., Chicago, and Los Angeles and so many more places
near and far. And, I am praying that 'she' is treated kindly by 'her' employer
and/or manager if 'she' has had to call in sick or has bravely announced that
'she' will be marching instead of working at her job today.
Sitting here in my favorite work spot and sipping hot
coffee from my preferred ceramic mug, I take pleasure in hearing the slightly
grinding rumble of the dryer on the other side of the kitchen as it tumbles dry
the pristine white sheets I will soon be making-up the guest bed with. Listening
to the gentle tapping of my fingers on the keyboard as I type away is as
comforting and natural as caressing my pet's head while snuggling on the couch
watching television.
You might be thinking to yourself, "What is she talking
about? She's working right now cleaning the house after the departure of
yesterday's guests and before tomorrow's guests arrive and, she's been working
on her writing since waking-up at six-thirty in the morning! She hasn't stopped
working as a form of protest today!" And, from the looks of it, you would be
right.
Sitting here alone today without the pleasant ring of
friendly laughter emanating from the stories that resurfaced by virtue of free-flowing
memories of long ago pleasures and good times shared....I have vowed
to be more aware of this down time between guests. I am listening to the melodic clicking
sounds of two 'battery fed' clocks that hang on the walls surrounding me and
wonder if any two clocks actually tick in unison with one another. Surprisingly,
right as this thought enters my head, the mantle clock in my husband's office
chimes the half-hour.
The early afternoon scheduled flights of various
carriers, are dropping their landing gear just north of our home as their pilots
prepare to guide them gently down onto the tarmac at Orlando International
Airport. They continue to float above me in intervals of two to three minutes
and I listen to the variances in their engine sounds and wonder how many
different passengers in these particular planes have observed our rooftop
before landing for business or pleasure on the ground.
My uncle Louie was a pilot in WWII and used to enjoy
sitting out on our lanai listening for the planes to float by while petting our
dog, Brûlée, as they snuggled together on a comfy lounge chair. By the time he
could see them, he had determined what make and size of engine each plane had
just by being so attuned to the particular sounds made by each one. I miss this
visual these past five years as I miss my uncle and his pleasant companionship.
Wednesday is yard day for us and I can feel the presence
of the crew in our front yard before the edgers, mowers, and blowers even begin
their gasoline infused parade up the driveway. Their rhythmic roars have
drowned-out the fact that my dryer has stopped. I am too comfortable to get up
right now! Besides, as I recall, I am still gently protesting throughout this
fine day.
Have I ever taken notice of the humanlike sounds coming
from the French door refrigerator before? Its low rumble sounds like the 'hunger
pangs' of people with a strong desire for food. And, tying the two together
would make perfect sense when I stop to think about it. This reminds me that I
should make a decision as to what to have for dinner later. Or, should I not
care about dinner today of all days?
I am so bad-ass, aren't I?
Right as I am thinking about my 'Nasty Woman' behavior,
a squad, herd, group, horde of squirrels charge across the roof like there
is no tomorrow, their tiny rodent paws with their elongated nails scratching the
shingles the entire width of the house as they charge their way to the
outstretched limbs of the live oak tree in the back yard. I know that dinner for
them tonight will be the sweet buds of young leaves waiting to make their debut
into the unknown world. Many of them will become squirrel food
tonight.
It's already five o'clock because the mechanical whirl
of our garage door opening-up reaches my ears. How long have I been sitting here
writing this afternoon? How long have I taken the time to just listen to the
world around me?
The husband enters the back door as the ping, ping, ping
of the alarm system announces his presence before I can even see him walk into
the kitchen. I will greet him now. He will ask me about my 'gentle protest'
today because he is a gentle soul who has voluntarily become fined-tuned to
women in general; me in particular. A huge smile spreads across my
face.
Happiness has its own sounds, too. Spreading smiles
sound so sweet in the dimming light of this familiar room. I know he will gladly
help me make-up the guest bed tonight after I extract the sheets from the gaping
mouth of the dryer. Tomorrow evening we will welcome our guests with open arms
and a home cooked meal. And wine, plenty of good wine and cheers.
I'm pleased to have aligned myself with every other
woman in the world today. My 'gentle protest' will be felt in waves of
camaraderie and solidarity with each one of them. Our strength in numbers and strong
will is something to be reckoned with because the Power of Women is the new
chapter being written, not with the idea of overpowering men in general, or the
men in our own, personal lives.... Rather, by standing tall and strong right alongside of them in unity and equality.
Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
