Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen
Day Fifteen
Day Sixteen
Day Seventeen
Day Eighteen
Day Nineteen
Day Twenty
Day Twenty-One, Sunday
The morning, spent quietly, reading and relaxing, went by
quickly. By one o’clock, Morgan was ready to go to the Sunnyside Home. Early.
She laughed at herself. What a change from the first time she went there a few
weeks ago. If someone had told her she would enjoy visiting an old folk’s
home, she would have told them they were crazy. And she was crazy, a happy
crazy. The women, somehow, gave her more than she could ever give them.
She cut two of the sunflowers, shortened their stems to fit
in jars. One, she would give to Marie, the other to Gertrude. Her new friends.
At Sunnyside, she walked down the hall, around to Gertrude’s
room. “Hello, Gertrude.”
“Morgan, come in, come in. How are you today?”
“Okay, and you? How are they treating you here? I brought a flower for your table.”
“Oh, good as always. The flower is beautiful. A spot of
sunshine.”
“Yes, that’s why I love sunflowers. I buy a bunch
whenever I go to the Farmer’s Market. They cheer up my little house.”
“And why does your house need cheering up? Are you discouraged?”
“I am still struggling, sorting out my new life. Finding my
way, alone, instead of with a family. With just me to care for.”
Gertrude said, “Sit down, here, next to me. Honey,” she took
Morgan’s hand, “Life has so many turns and corners. This is just another
corner, another intersection on the road. When I was learning how to drive, ages ago,” she grinned, “My dad would tell me to go any direction I
wanted. Come to a corner, and choose. He
said it didn’t matter where we went. Just keep going. Keep driving. Keep
practicing. Keep moving. We would get sort of lost, but never completely lost.
We made some great discoveries, places we hadn’t known about, sights we hadn’t
seen, all because we were not afraid to take the unknown road. Don’t be afraid
to take the unknown road. It has surprises ahead.”
“That’s what I am afraid of, the surprises. What if a bridge
is washed out, or it dead ends, or ends up in a swamp? Or if I get lost?”
“What kind of talk is that? No! If the bridge is washed out,
you go around. If it dead ends, you turn around and go back, take a different
way. If it ends up in a swamp – where are you, anyway, this is Colorado, not Florida.”
Morgan laughed, “I know, just an illustration, I guess, of
the way I feel.”
Gertrude looked at her. “Morgan. I will guess that you feel
guilty. That blame weighs heavily on you. Blame and shame. It is a game that
some people play. If they play that game they are not responsible. That’s how
they hold you.“
Morgan looked down at her hands. “But when their voices are
loud, blaming, criticizing you, it is hard not to listen.”
“But you do not have those voices anymore. They are not here.
They are only in your head,” said Gertrude.
Oh, thought Morgan, she is right. What voices do I hear,
now? Gertrude, Marie, Nancy, her kids, even Joey, with her eyes looking up at
me, begging aloud to be petted, the gal at the journal table, telling me to
write, my friend, from Washington, sending me a book to read. “You are right,
Gertrude. I am living in the past. I need to turn that corner, don’t I? Go a
different direction, find new scenery.”
“Good girl,” said Gertrude.
No comments:
Post a Comment