A series of essays.....
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| THE BOXES MAY BE GROWING INTO A FORT-LIKE FACADE.... YET, AS I LOOK AROUND, NOTHING SEEMS TO BE DEPLETED! |
.....as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E. Hughes
Gloomy daytime showers persist outside the sliding glass doors on this saturated weekday morning. Hundreds of gentle reminders of our past and present life remain haphazardly scattered around the house we’ve called home for two decades. Lurking are the mementos, reminders of a large chapter in this Book of Life that has taken two people through so many years of love, laughter, tears, and joy.
Occasionally, this particular dish (chapter) has been spiced-up with certain trials and tribulations designed to perplex the main dining guests as much as possible. If you know me at all, it would be like realizing that the chef has put way too much garlic into the recipe and is waiting around to see if I relish it or choke after the first bite. Cruel, so cruel.
While my husband spent the weekend working outside on his list of things that we’ve ignored for far too long, I was indoors constructing a cardboard fort in the family room. Each carefully filled rectangle or square rising higher and higher in the room, blue ink scribbles indicating content and future placement of each tan building block at our new home! My humble attempt at being as organized as possible throughout this process.
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| RAINDROPS POUND THE POOL DECK WITH THEIR STEADY RHYTHM FOR HOURS AND HOURS |
Rumble, rumble....lightening and thunder have recently joined ranks with the consistent rainfall outside. Gradually, the swimming pool fills and nearly exceeds its liquid capacity. Malnourished appearing squirrels (typical looking Florida squirrels) race across the top of the screen enclosure sending torrents of rainwater down into the pool and simulate the sound of erratic gunshots as the fluid stalactites fall sharply into the standing water, harmonizing with the constant rumblings in the atmosphere above.
I fell off of the white, kitchen step stool Saturday afternoon. Can you hear a tree fall in the forest? Well, you can if you happen to be that tree! It was painful and quite a shock to my system. Dan was outside mowing the small square of lawn we call our ‘greenspace’ in the backyard, north of the pool. He wasn’t there to help pick me up. Unusual. Once I determined that the left wrist wasn’t broken, my heart stopped racing like an Indy car in May. I forgot I was on the second step and tumbled backwards; my left side abruptly merging with the little, brown ottoman. The three board games and box of loose dominoes I was extracting from the cupboard came cascading down around me in slow motion. Left side sore but not enough to deter me from the task at hand. Feeling very fortunate...
We keep telling one another how lucky we are. We could have a basement in this house and we do not. Unless you can build on the side of a hill and create a walk-out, not many Floridian homes have what people up north call basements or cellars. If we did...it would be full of stuff, too. Instead we have a small storage area in the garage attic space. The last time I looked, it was filled to the brim.
Boxes, packing supplies, and memories are in abundance within these four stuccoed walls as we get painfully serious about this inevitable move. The most difficult part for me has been extracting personal items from each room. Familiar shapes linger in the fine dust where family photos, hockey pucks and figurines, and golfing trophies once resided on shelves. Note To Self: Dust! Vague outlines of picture frame backs that have brushed the painted walls for years must be wiped off, covered up, or repainted. The culprits, with their handsome grins and smart looking clothes, are gently bubble wrapped, boxed, and added to the fort’s growing facade.
Taking a break from all of this tomorrow. I have a dentist appointment at one o’clock that will break my day into two parts. Soon, within a few days, I will be meeting Lea, a long, lost friend, to enjoy lunch and conversation together in Cocoa Village. She is such an amazing lady with so much energy and panache. When I grow-up, I would like to be just like Lea.
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| "HURT YOUR EYES ORANGE!" |
I’m cutting bubble wrap that is as bright orange as the company’s own logo. Seriously, hurt your eyes orange! I assume they don’t want you to become complacent within your humble surroundings while wrapping up all of your precious memories!
The intricately cut, Waterford crystal vase Dan gave to me on our twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary is quite bedazzling wrapped in its orange, Michelin-like coat. Stay safe, memories.
Dan officially retires, after a lifetime in the building and construction industry, on June 1, 2018. I have yet to look...is it on a Monday, a Friday? I’m sure it will be a Friday. In this industry, you tend to work for so many different companies throughout your career. Dan is no exception. Roger B. Kennedy, Inc., his latest employer, will take him out to lunch and wish him a grand life in retirement. They mean well. They didn’t know Dan through the formal years of accumulative knowledge that was built on year after year, one job site after another. But, they did reap the benefits of his esteemed knowledge (the cream on the top) these past few years. The way I look at it, Roger B. Kennedy was the truly lucky one in this case.
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| DAN VISITING ONE OF HIS JOBS LOCATED IN ORLANDO |
I will never take all that you have done for us as a family for granted, Dear Heart; through the good times and the, well, not so good times, too. Someday I will have to write about your bravery and tenacity. It will be an interesting story!
I can tell you this, if I do have ‘memory’ in my genetic material, it must be in the form of instinct that travels far back into my European ancestry. Looking out at the pouring rain makes me feel that I’ve been here many times before. The women in my past have all felt the way I do, nomadic and vulnerable...with raindrops representing our tears, and the knowledge that breaking down one ‘nest’ only represents having to build another. And, my inherent behavior isn’t necessarily dependent upon experience and yet, somehow, a certain presence fulfills my basic need to be happy, loved, and feel whole and appreciated.
Together, we will (and have) survived just about anything; with or without the blessing of our own children.
Let the Floridian rain pour down and, with its cleansing powers, wash over us as we create change and, hopefully, conquer any pitfalls along our journey. Get us through the next few months of dependency upon others and trust in the system and help us sell our house here with minimum negativity. ***My little prayer to St. Joseph these days.
Another deprived looking squirrel hammers along the top screens of the pool enclosure sending large sprays of water in every direction. My thoughts turn back to the job at hand and another vase is wrapped and tucked away deep into the packing paper lined box.
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| IT WILL NEVER BE A 'ROCKING CHAIR' FOR US. I WILL SETTLE FOR A COMFORTABLE SEAT SURROUNDED BY LOTS OF LOVE! |
Chuckling, I think about a specific mantra I created many years ago after moving to Orlando. “Nothing ever dies here; it just comes back to life all on its own, eventually!” Naturally, I was thinking about the flowers, shrubs, and trees. That which withers and turns brown will and does return to a green, healthy state down here! But, I often wonder if it applies to humans, as well. Curiously, this could be why so many retirees move here. Oh, they say it’s all about the sun filled, blue skied days. Maybe we can take some of this Florida Magic up north with us. After being constantly exposed to it for over twenty odd years, it may have become ‘memory’ within my genetic material by now!
Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
