I have a box of birthday & recovery anniversary cards going back to 1978 when I put the cork in the bottle, as well as ended other substance ingestions – other than coffee, that is. I have some from the anniversary of my first year up to this year.
Many of the ones I’ve kept are from men who are no longer in this dimension. Names and faces that I’ve half forgotten & some who are still around today. I went into the box to see what was there and to take something out – nothing in particular but anything that didn’t hold an emotional charge so I could let it go before the new year.
I’m not sad but I do feel a bit of sorrow for these lost handshakes. I don’t ever remember the last time I went through these cards. Like my string of Christmas cards – I have some that go back years from people who have died. I have the last Christmas card my mother sent me.
There is a meaning to me in each of them. Some are signed by dozens of people many of whom I have no idea who they are, who had no idea who I was expect, I was celebrating with them in Montreal, or wherever. I know I’ll be letting a couple of these cards go even though they still have an emotional charge.
Reading them I also see that I now believe the sentiments. For many years I felt people’s good wishes where done out of kindness not out of an authentic affection for me. I think that’s called growing up 🙂
The lemon fresh bubble bath in the Jacuzzi made both Dish and Spoon feeling clean, refreshed and forgiving.
“Spoon dear, I am so sorry for my outburst this afternoon. Tossing Tea Pot’s lid into the midst of the shuffle board tournament wasn’t a lady like thing for me to do.”
“There, there, my sweet, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure of late.”
“Still, the look on her spout was worth it.”
“I’ll say. Especially when the Salts scored the winning shuff – shuff is that what they call it when they push the marker across the board? Anyway she brought them the prize.”
“Spoon this trip on the Gravy Boat has to be one of the best ideas you’ve had since we ran away. I think we are closer now that we have ever been.”
“Thank you, my sweet. We just don’t seem to get the chance to spend this much time together. You’re always off to other meals.”
“While you spend too much time in dark drawers.”
“I do not!”
“Spoon, you think I don’t know what goes on in dark drawers. You and all that cutlery pushed together, sometimes mingling with forks.”
“I have never mingled with a fork.”
“Don’t deny it. I know these things. You cutlery are like that. Clinking away in the dark.”
“Oh, I see. And what about you? Nestled with those other dishes. Piled one on top of the other.”
“Suffocated in more like it. That’s why I love you so much Spoon we have similar shapes but you don’t smother me when we nestle together.”
“The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” a voice came from outside their cabin door. “We must run and hide. Do something!”
Spoon jumped out of the warm water and went to the window.
“The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”
“What is it Spoon?”
“Oh, I love fireworks.” Dish pulled a tea towel around her to dry off. “Let’s get up on deck where we can it for ourselves.”
As they attempted to leave their cabin they were pushed back in by Chick.
“You must not go out. It is too dangerous. The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”
“There, there, Chick. It’s only fireworks. A show. Not the sky. Don’t be so alarmed.”
“Fireworks!” Chick bobbed back and forth. “Are you sure about that.”
There was a barrage of green puffs over head.
“I don’t believe you. The sky is falling.” Chick skittered along the rack in alarm.
Dish and Spoon walked hand in hand to the upper rack.
“If it falls, at least we have each other.”