Writing Prompt # 4 What sucks the breath out of me?

Well, this is going to be different. At first, I think it is a hard moment to recall. Or maybe I wouldn’t put it quite like that. The Prompter wrote about finding a gift from a friend who had died when she and her friend were in their 30’s. This winter my husband found letters a young man who had been engaged to his mother and they were in a serious car accident together. Several months later she broke it off, but we had never been aware of how attentive he had been to her and how dear she was to him. He drew pictures of the how it happened and circumstances surrounding it. For her, the consequences were lifelong, but everyone else walked off. We read them and reread them, We wished we could find him and say…..I don’t know what. But something.

Last year I came across a coverlet my grandmother had embroidered and I had quilted. Every time I would get blankets out for company after moving here 6 years ago, I thought it was missing. Then one day I noticed a box that hadn’t been untaped. It was marked as the mirror to a chest of drawers I gave my daughter. I opened it and to my pleasant surprise, there was the blanket. Whew! I remember visiting my gandmother in my 20s and sleeping under that blanket with her. I had grown my hair long because she liked to run her fingers through it. I was a young mama at the time and she would talk and talk about her young family days .

The other night my four year old grandson picked up the stopwatch that belonged to my dad. A lot of after supper games and coaching were done to that stopwatch. It doesn’t run so good anymore, but I like having it. We made it click a few times.

But it is not just the memory of loved ones gone that bates my breath. I marvel at the variety in the shapes of trees I see in the winter. The shine of the sun on icy branches. The deep throated warble of a little wren; lines upon lines of geese and swans migrating; vast windmill farms in the Midwest that can be seen either from the airplane or rising on either side of the highway; hawks nesting in our tree; the orchid display at Longwood Gardens every January; the confident two handpiano playing of my 8 year old granddaughter; the sparkling smiles of my kindergartners and sometimes a bear hug from one of them. Or two!

There… you have it.

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