Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Bendingmirrors Week 4 Entry: Renewal

Bendingmirrors Choice: Pic 2



The endless winter was done. Emotionally wrung out, and physically exhausted, Rosalie came out to the meadow to take stock. The vivid light surrounding her was a welcome contrast to the cold grey they had experienced for months. Although the weather had reflected exactly how the family had been feeling.

Watching him battle that insidious disease had drained them all dry. But he was at peace now, and the family was trying to learn how to live their new lives. How do you build a new world? How do you avoid the gaping hole that represents what has been lost? Do you build a room that no one will ever go into and hide all the suffering and loss there? Should it instead be a place outside of the new world that is built that is reserved for all things departed?

A million stupid, incessant questions buzzed around, making their noise heard as a backdrop to the new everyday life. A whole hive of questions for which she had no real or worthwhile answers.

"Rosie honey, you have to do me a favor here. We both know that time is limited, nothing lasts forever. Don't let this stop you from having a life. You need to live, pack up and go to college, stop putting everything off. Get out there and actually live. Promise me."

The forthright gaze felt as though it penetrated right to the center of her being. Her daddy wanted this promise, and if it would help him to rest a little easier then she would promise. She would send in her applications and try her wings on the open wind.

Breathing deeply, she settled her gaze on the trees on the other side of the clearing. Nothing was permanent, even this meadow would change. The trees she could see had once been tiny saplings, and only a few short weeks ago the grass here was low and sodden. The transformative power of time had worked its magic on this small wonderland. Out of the dark, cold, damp of winter would come the buds, flowers and long grasses of spring.

The day began to warm further; perhaps she hadn't needed to bring this cardigan with her on her pilgrimage out to their meadow. In a few short months she would be leaving home, acceptance into MIT meant a move not only out of the family nest, but clear across the country. She wouldn't be able to come here as often, so she knew she'd have to take advantage of the time available to her now.

She began to walk across the meadow, then jog and finally to run. Allowing the sheer joy of movement to enforce the mantra in her head.

"I am still here ... I am still here ... I am still here ..."

Feeling the cardigan slip from her shoulders, she raised her arms and allowed the feel of the tall grass to tickle her palms. This was why she was out here, she had survived, and the family had survived. The loss of her precious, precious father was devastating to them all, but she could fulfill her promise. She would live, make her mark on the world, and show that she had come from good stock. Her father would never be forgotten ever while she was still alive, and she was content with that knowledge. The wheel of life kept turning, no matter how dark the grief, how hopeless the pain; time marched on, and she would make sure that she moved along with it, if for no other reason than to prove that he had passed this way and made a difference while here.