Bio Note: I am a person who is just finding my way in life after caring for my father for many years. I enjoy spending time with my family and my wild Westie pup, ornery Yorkie, and cranky alley cat who came to reside with us. I love to photograph the wild horses and black bears of North Carolina. My writing can be seen in New Verse News and Of Rust and Glass.
Plunging downward plummeting 50 feet from a steeple roof for a cathedral ceiling a tumbling Icarus. The build coming together in weeks the dwelling complete by Christmas the crew expanding, new faces each day Thanksgiving eve ham, turkey, sweet potato casserole, corn, hot rolls, stuffing, and pumpkin pie the Lions and Cowboys, and family time on the minds of most. but for some, tie downs? No habla ingles. With children bearing witness, peering out of the windows from the elementary across the road, brown maple leaves falling like tears, he was raised to the heavens by rotor wings of LifeFlight, the motor pounding like a chariot, taken from the hills of Appalachia, to be lifted again ascending. On Black Friday, only one on site and working. A plastic balloon skirting the ground and a bouquet of yellow carnations lie behind the stack of plywood near the walkway. Look closely, and you can see them.
What Holds Us
She said, “Your father is holding onto that blanket.” Necessity, the mother of invention, our florist abandoning the task, the homemade grave blanket created by my hands, a mismatched mess of fake poinsettias from the dollar store, cheap plastic ornaments, red and yellow, glittering in the sunlight that comes after the storms and winds, strong, biting, shoving brown, dead leaves into every corner and crevice around the headstones and service flags, placed by the VFW all new, Veteran’s Day not so far in the rear-view mirror. The blanket, loblolly branches holding up white pine limbs, golden cross, caramel and crimson ribbons, sent my mind fluttering. “Mom, do you remember how he’d grip the hands of the nurses after his strokes?” Like Hulk Hogan, reveling in his brawn, he held on, just as we are now. Artificial sunflowers, cloth petals frayed and muddied, find repose beside a maple.
©2023 Renee Williams
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