Shadows Peopled by Those We Cannot See—Sunday, July 21, 2019

I was standing in my kitchen ironing yesterday

When a wild wind blew up

It was part of a rainstorm racing along the Uncompahgre Plateau, filling the canyons with droplets of very wet liquid

The storm was rambunctious, but only on the plateau

I continued ironing, watching the storm clouds throwing spears of lightening

 

When suddenly the back door flew open. I turned quickly thinking I also heard a pick-up drive up

The door opened; banged and I heard “LINDA!” 

“What”, I replied.  Feeling very puzzled.

Twice more the door flew open and twice more I heard my name

Then I realized it was my Dad calling me for the voice then said: “Come here, Linda”. (Or did he say: “I am here, Linda.”?)

I went to the door and then on outside; standing on the back step my heart fluttering in my rib cage

I wasn’t afraid, just eager to see my Dad again.

Just once more.  To actually see him and hold his hand, like I was a tot again.

But, of course, he wasn’t there.  There was only the wind, the yard, and a storm dropping lush moisture on canyon rims.

From my world to your heart,

Linda

22 thoughts on “Shadows Peopled by Those We Cannot See—Sunday, July 21, 2019

  1. How wonderful LInda… and how glorious your garden and all your pots look… to see summer like that while we cope with winter is so beautiful , the only flowers in my garden are the white arum lilies, and lots of cyclamen in pots, even in little pink buckets holding small ones lining the steps all the way down to the house…Much love, Valerie ,

    Like

  2. It was the longing in your heart that heard your dad. Somewhere I have an iron from long ago and memories of that task. Luckily, dim memories.

    Like

  3. Charlee: “Our Dada says he still sometimes thinks he hears Dennis’s ears flapping or his nails scrabbling on the floors.”
    Lulu: “Hmm, he might just be hearing me.”
    Chaplin: “Your nails, maybe, but those ears of yours don’t flap, Lulu.”

    Like

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