Tag Archives: Loss

February 5, 2025 · 6:09 pm

FF – At The Bar

Photo copyright Ted Strutz

At The Bar

There’s nobody else in the bar. Just Lois, the bartender, and a whole lot of bottles of alcohol. She’s probably tried them all, over the years, and not one has ever filled the hole that Katy left.

A bell chimes, announcing the arrival of another customer. The bartender, no longer interested in the plight of his most loyal regular, looks up from his Sudoku.

Lois sees the look on his face change. An imperceptible eyebrow twitch. He recognises this one, but they are unexpected.

Lois turns to inspect the newcomer.

Robin, the man who stole her sister away, enters alone.

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*EDIT: Apologies, a typo of her for his seems to have caused some confusion. There are only 3 people in the bar Lois (f), Bartender (m) and Robin (m). I’ve corrected the typo and apologise for the confusion. And for my Oxford comma, which I’m sorry not sorry for, but which may have added to the confusion.

A repeater this week, but from quite a while ago. It took me a minute to find this, an old story for the same photo. It got a lot of praise at the time and I was pretty proud of it, so I thought about taking the free pass and reposting, but today’s story appeared from nowhere, so you can enjoy one or both.

I might already have posted this to another story – it’s in my head a lot because it’s a favourite of my husband’s to play on his guitar / piano / drum kit combo – but today’s a repeater day, so you’ll have to accept a new story and an old song!

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November 20, 2024 · 1:35 pm

FF – Change in Circumstances

Photo credit belongs to Ronda del Boccio

Change In Circumstances

There’s never any pasta. Like for real never.

Not like before, when my husband would say “there’s no food in the house” if we ran out of cherry tomatoes; or the kids would cry if I bought the wrong brand of identical mac n cheese.

I did a dance when I found a box of mac n cheese at the back of the Community Pantry and those same kids devoured it even though I had to make the sauce with water because there was no milk.

But I’d give anything to hear him say there’s “no food in the house.”

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My son read this story this morning and asked “Is it a true story?”, so I said not for us, but kind of, for some people. As humans, it’s hard not to take what we have for granted. Even when we know others are not as fortunate. Whether it’s a person, food, or treats and comforts. The Wellness Wednesday post for work today is about gratitude – for the small things as well as the larger ones. I scheduled it weeks ago, so it’s just by chance that so much of today seems to be reminding me not to take things for granted.

And my drive from school drop-off to work passes my favourite place in the whole county, a bridge over the train tracks through beautiful farmland, where you can see the hills and the lake and some true Canadian beauty. There was a meeting a few weeks ago about the farmer selling it for development. We need the housing, and I know they have to build somewhere, but to me, it’s paving paradise.

There’s a whole lot to be grateful for while it’s still here. And while I’m still here to enjoy it.

The radio’s at it too – look what played this morning.

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November 6, 2024 · 5:12 pm

FF – Childhood Dreams

Photo credit Dale Rogerson

Childhood Dreams

At five years old, I thought the kid with a treehouse was the coolest guy in school. At 9, it was a pool and at 19, a pool table. Sure, Gates had yachts and private islands, but those were out of reach. I knew kids with treehouses, pools and pool tables.

So I did all the right things – worked hard, married my college sweetheart… then she took off with Dennis from accounting. Swims in his pool every morning while my kids play in his treehouse.

I hope they scratch up his pool table.

I never liked that shit anyway.

No song coming to mind for this one. You’d think a country music fan would be able to come up with a hundred, but I’m blank. So, audience participation time – what song does this post make you think of?!

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February 7, 2024 · 10:08 am

FF – On The Boardwalk

Photo credit Peter Abbey

On The Boardwalk

We used to run down this Boardwalk together, hand in hand and not just for balance, but old legs don’t run like young ones, it’s barely an amble now. We’ve worn footprints in this Boardwalk since before they closed the rollercoaster and the monkey man retired his monkey.

That coaster track sailed you right out over the water, like you were flying. Felt like that first time she kissed me too.

Sometimes I think I smell her perfume on the breeze, hear her nagging in the cry of the gulls. What I wouldn’t give for her to nag me again.

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This week’s picture reminded me of an old favourite FF story of mine. I nearly reposted it but then a different story came to mind so if you wish, you can have a twofer!

https://elmowrites.wordpress.com/2014/03/12/friday-fiction-the-drifters/

In celebration of the old post.

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December 13, 2023 · 11:05 am

FF – Light a Candle

Photo credit Susan Rouchard

Light a Candle

“Light a candle” they said. “When you think of her, light a candle and remember.”

The flame burns softly. It dances like her – erratic, unpredictable, beautiful.

But one candle burns too fast, dies before I am ready to let the memories go. So I light two.

They dance together. Not identical, but synchronized – sometimes leaning together to share a moment. Sometimes drifting apart a little, but never separating.

One burns out first, leaving the other alone, guttering, trying to survive without its partner.

I light a hundred candles, and a hundred more.

There are not enough candles in the world.

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Susan’s beautiful soft focus photo inspired so many thoughts this morning. Our Jewish friends are lighting candles daily for Hanukkah; in so many places around the world, these candles could be lit to remember those lost in tragedies and wars; or perhaps the candles are themselves worshipping, gathered before the artwork we cannot quite make out.

But when I started writing, it was about the idea of lighting a candle for a lost loved one, hence my story. For a musical accompaniment today, a change from the country / pop I usually post – one of many carols I loved singing at school.

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August 31, 2022 · 11:31 am

FF – Heck of a Shadow

Bit of a cheat this week; I couldn’t figure out how to cut this one shorter without losing a favourite line, so I took the last one and made it the title. I hope you’ll forgive me! 😉

Photo copyright David Stewart

Heck of a shadow them towers cast. Longer now than when they was standing.

I ain’t never been out East, it’s a heck of a journey and the girls wouldn’t like it. Who’d bring ’em in? Milk ’em? Help bring their littl’uns into the world?
So I didn’t see them towers when they was there and I sure ain’t seeing ’em now they gone. More concrete in that hole in the ground than this entire prairie, I’d say.
But they hit me when they fell. James was gonna run the farm when I’s gone; but he did his part and they sent him home forever, just like his granddaddy, and his grandaddy’s daddy before.

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February 2, 2022 · 10:03 am

The Brightest Light in the Darkest Night

Photo copyright Na’ama Yehuda

Trigger warnings: Early Parenthood, Loss

The Brightest Light in the Darkest Night

In the dream we’re falling. She’s a tiny bundle in my arms and we fall and fall until I don’t know whether I’m terrified or grateful that there’s no ground to hit.

Her cries pierce me awake and for a moment we’ve hit the ground but no, we’re in bed and she just wants a drink or a diaper, or maybe she was dreaming too. For that microsecond she’s all there is: even outside the dream there’s only her and me.

But then the world comes back, and there’s her, me, and the gaping hole where her mother should be.

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November 17, 2021 · 9:40 am

FF – Innocence

Copyright for this image belongs to Dale Rogerson

Trigger Warning: I haven’t written much misery recently. Maybe having kids makes it harder to write sad stories. But this one came to me and it needed to be shared. If I’ve done my job well, and especially if you’ve just been watching the UK’s Christmas adverts (McDonald’s in my case), it might bring tears to your eyes.

Innocence

Little kids just take things for granted, don’t they? When I was in Kindergarten, I didn’t know it was weird to go to school nextdoor to a graveyard. Or to watch your teacher sneak out and eat her lunch every day beside a small grey angel statue, come rain or shine.

We collected leaves between the headstones and took rubbings of their intricate carvings, but we never went near the angel. It was Ms Connor’s special place.

Going back now, I can read the inscription:

Jeffrey Connor

1975-2006

Beloved husband and father to

Mildred Connor

2000-2006

Fly, my angel, fly.

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September 20, 2017 · 9:59 am

A return to Friday fiction

Hi there,

This blog has been quiet so long, I bet you wondered if I was ever coming back. I did too. But here I am, possibly for a one-off, possibly for a sporadic return to the fold. We’ll have to wait and see. Those little boys whose births were announced here 2.5 and almost 5 years ago are growing, and growing up and definitely keeping me busy. Here they are in a forest, up to some cute mischief!

But I’m really ere to share a story, to try my hand at getting back into the Friday Fiction party, and for that, I present to you a picture (Copyright Sarah Potter) and 100 words of story. I’m not happy with any of my current ideas for a title – feel free to suggest one if you are inspired. Either way, I welcome your constructive critique, I’m a bit rusting on writing, editing and what-have-you, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty to say!

For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.

The line flew unbidden into Alice’s head as she stared at Joey’s old boots, stuffed away and forgotten when summer called for sandals. She’d spent so much of their marriage cleaning up after him, it’d probably been her, but she couldn’t remember. Occasionally he’d swept through the house and made it look like she never put any effort in at all; annoying her even more.

A spider dashed out and shot across her hand.

“Oh Joey,”  Tears washed black spots onto the shoes again. “I wish you’d come back and piss me off again.”

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February 8, 2017 · 12:16 pm

FF – The Creek

Thanks to Ted Strutz for this week’s photo, which reminds me of the Zac Brown Band song “Toes”. I went a different way for my story, though. I welcome your comments as always.

mystery-chair-ted-strutz.jpg

The Creek

Allie lay down in the creek. The rushing water eased her muscles, washing away a week’s sweat and mud. The water stumbled on rocks and branches, but never relented in its quest for the ocean. Allie wished she had the same certainty of purpose, but Owen was gone, their children were gone … She had no one and nowhere to race toward.

She was soaked when she finally stood again – diverting just a little of the creek from its mad rush to the sea to travel a while with her.

“You’ll get there eventually,” she whispered. “And so will I.”

 

 

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