PerspectiveDesignated location on rooftop deckShortcut through the alley;Suddenly, senses under attackThe city’s underbelly!Wait to exhale…Walk faster, closer and closerto the distant pinpoint of lightEmerge, gasping, from the alley!Exhale! Inhale! Breathe!Breathe in, breathe out,Revulsion recedesClimb worn stone steps to 4th floor Hurry! Wait! Survive – ’til day’s end.The alley awaits!Will I be chosen?Thought evolves; from alley – to ‘box’ – and backNausea gives way to nostalgia; Powerlessness to prideResponsibility! Right! Privilege!It’s 1972 – it’s 2012: years elapse; nothing changes.Jury Duty!
2 a (1) : having been seen, used, or known for a short time (2) : unfamiliar
b : being other than the former or old
3: NEW: having been in a relationship or condition but a short time <new to the job> <a new wife>
Mom was a photographer, displaying her motherly pride through the artistic expression of her photography. Eileen was a classic beauty.
We were a family of three and there were photos to prove it!
There were boxes and boxes of photos. There were snapshots and enlargements, painstakingly tinted and colored (Eileen was trying her hand at various methods of color transfer development techniques). There were beautiful photos, blurry photos, masterpieces and cast-aside ‘experiments’. Yet, all captured for posterity, precious moments in time.
I stare at a picture taken on a rooftop as daylight was dwindling. Mom was swaddling her infant in her arms. Dad gazed lovingly at us. What did they talk about up there on the roof that evening? Who took the picture? Was Dad reassuring her that their love could overcome the resistance from his Italian family, outraged because he married an Irish girl?
I wish I could time-travel and sit-in on our conversation. I would thank them and reassure them that I would love my sister, and later my brother; and that our special threesome would inevitably evolve to another, better model – Eileen, Nick and the three kids.
Defiant Dagny builds railroads, encourages entrepreneurial industrialists, and uncovers island of misfit geniuses, while finding true love with two inspirational inventors; and saving America from socialistic and economic disaster. Thank you, John Galt!
She had expected this day for months. After 23 years, she’d almost welcomed it. She was prepared psychologically, emotionally, and financially, rationalizing that it offered the best of all worlds. Her family was ready. She was ready.
Yet on that day, there was a part of her that wanted to wish it away, and she promised herself that she wouldn’t cry, as she walked down the hall to his office. During that brief and last encounter with him, the anticipation and sense of impending doom was put to rest, as reality smacked her (she knew it would) right between the eyes.
Those eyes were now brimming with tears, as she returned to her once-comfortable executive office to pack all that remained of her personal belongings. She called home to confirm that it was fait accompli; and as if in shock, stood alone and still at the window, staring out at the street.
It was no surprise to see Augie cruising back and forth, awaiting the verdict. He lowered the car window, and catching her eye, gestured a questioning, “thumbs up” or “thumbs down”.
Earlier that day, they’d shared lunch with a small inner circle of friends, raising their glasses; toasting to what had been and what was yet to come. The pros and cons, were carefully weighed and openly voiced. Hundreds of her co-workers expected their ‘news’ today, as well. For months the general feeling had been one of helplessness and incredulity. Today, almost dutifully, the friends awkwardly laughed, recalling happier days and promising to stay ‘in touch’, despite the inevitable cyclone of corporate ‘right-sizing’ that was headed their way.
Now that the fireworks were over, tears began to well up again (they would so often in the days to come) as she sadly motioned ‘thumbs down’ to Augie. He shrugged; silently, knowingly offering his consolation, encouragement, and empathy, with the shared glance of an old friend.
It was at that moment, she began to comprehend how truly life-changing this would be.
http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com (Trifecta Writing Challenge, wk. 34: Fireworks)
In response to Prompt three of Trifecta Challenge, week 33 :
They could have waited with him
To ease the dread of the coming hours
But they sleep – weak, unaware,
Despite His enigmatic warnings.
He agonizes; he despairs
As long-foretold events
Unfold.
His mind flashes back
Tentative toddler steps
Tumbling into his Mothers arms
Foretelling tomorrow’s fall
She will be there – again – to cradle Him
As he falls to
Earth.
On this eve, here in the garden
Friends nearby (all but one)
He stands alone;
On the edge of eternity
Embracing His dreaded, desired destiny
He stands alone.
He weeps.
As I set up this Blog, and establish categories that I think will become regular stopping off places, I realize that though I’ve neared the milestone of 5 posts, none of them have been specifically about my boys. I know there will be many posts about each of them in the days to come but for now, a few words of introduction are in order – in order of their birth, the line-up of our ‘starting five’:
So for now – this is my placeholder for the category “Grandsons”. I promise there is much material to capture in this category!
I am linking with the Trifecta Challenge http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com
Week 33 Prompt Two:Write a 33-333 word response using the third definition of the following word: score (noun) 3 a : an account or reckoning originally kept by making marks on a tally b : amount due : indebtedness
We’ve been here before!
The lopsided score eludes explanation
A bad call; a stray pass; a failed free throw
Often, the upside is ours
Today – not so much.
We’ve been here before!
The games continue, one after another
Yesterday’s regrets finally fade
Today’s lessons enable tomorrow’s triumphs
Though outcomes are, as yet, unknown.
We’ve been here before!
The joy of the journey
The game ‘du jour’ is rejoined
Outrageous odds or easy wins
The power to persist – the privilege to play.
We’ve been here before!
by BCIJo (aka Joanne Edith)
This is the first time I am linking directly with the Trifecta Challenge http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com
Week 33 Prompt One:
Write a 33-333 word response to the following quote: “What I tell you three times is true.” by Lewis Carroll. You do not have to use the actual quote in your response, but you may if you wish.
She had to believe this would work, or it might not…
She had to convince herself that the grass was not greener in this wonderful, magical place; despite the vibrant vistas, yellow-bricked journeys and technicolored tribulations…
She had to truly want to return to her sometimes scary, mostly mundane, but reliably black-and-white world…
She closed her eyes and tapped her sequined, ruby slippers together, three times:
“There’s no place like home,
There’s no place like home,
There’s no place like home!”
by BCIJo (aka Joanne Edith)
Since my first post, I’ve struggled with just how to get this blog going. The paradigm of publicly posting your thoughts and musings is new to me, though the notion of writing, as a therpeutic form of introspection, is familiar and comforting.
Since June 1, as promised, I’ve followed my daughter – my role model, and through her, became involved in the Trifectra weekly word challenge. Because I didn’t really have a blog, I had to post via Trifectra Anonymous. Perhaps today, I can publish my first post via this blog. And (once I figure out how to do it) I’ll post my recent submissions, under the category “Pre-blog Posts”.
It’s the first day of June, and almost three months have passed since I happily retired from the working world, after nearly 45 years.
Supposedly, now I will have time to do all the things I said I wished I had time to do, throughout those 45 years. The dilemma of course is for me to find a structure (that’s the engineer talking) in which to enjoy these pursuits of passion..these avocational obsessions (that’s the creative-performing artist peeking through).
I begin this blog in the spirit in which I captured my “first day of retirement” sunrise photos and thoughts (thank you, PRUDENTiAL, for the wonderful suggestion), while embracing the delicious dilemma of where to begin. So, in a profound moment of clarity (and i hope to have many more), I decided that my “HealthyMom blog” daughter will be my role model.
Here we go…the world and my grandsons, await!