The Christmas tree lights were merrily twinkling as she slowly washed off the counter top with an old dishcloth. It was tattered, almost beyond recognition as a dishcloth. She related well to it. She often felt battered and tattered beyond recognition.
It wasn’t always this way. Life used to be full--full of meaning. She rubbed harder at a spot on the counter as her mind transported her back to a happier time. Back to a time she lived her dreams and they were real.
“You’ll never guess what happened!” She called excitedly as she raced into the building stopping momentarily to stamp the snow from her shoes. Face glowing, cheeks ruddy from the cold, her eyes bright with excitement. “You know the story I wrote. It won first place in the contest! I can’t believe it.”
“Congratulations!” Sherry, her friend and the one, who pushed her into submitting the story, exclaimed. “I knew you could do it. What will you write about next?”
Virginia handed her a folded piece of paper, paper-clipped closed, “I want to write about this next.” Sherry took the paper, unfolded it and read what was written.
“Why do you look so frightened?”
“I don’t think I can do it. I mean, I just don’t think it will be easy. I can’t just sit down and think ‘let’s write something funny’ and have it work without sounding stilted and fake.”
“Humor? You don’t think you can write a humorous piece? Oh now that’s funny.” Sherry started to giggle quietly; finally she had to just laugh out loud. “You can write this. I know you can.”
Then she received the phone call she had dreaded. “Virginia, your grandmother is very ill. She’s not expected to make it much longer. You need to hurry.”
It had happened months ago, and yet it felt as recent as yesterday. Her life changed that day, her writing forgotten in the midst of grief. Yet, now hope was infusing her being. Maybe now she could write again. Maybe now she could write for Him, the one who gave the dream. [i]Yes,[/i] she decided, [i]this year for Christmas I’ll give Him the one gift I have. I will give Him my stories.[/i]
You've packed a lot in a very short piece. It's true, when life sidelines us at times, that writing seems to fall in the background because its such an emotional experience in itslf. Glad this story has a hopeful ending. Keep writing!!
This is a beautifully written story of hope. It reminds me of the phrase "joy comes in the morning". It can, at times, be difficult to work through our grief. Thanks for writing this. Your descriptions of the woman and her grief were very real.