The Fall

hyde-hall-light ff

photo prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-FIelds.

The throbbing continued and echoed through her ears.  She slowly opened her eyes.  Everything was out of focus. Directly above was a huge…. spider?  bird?

A light fixture.  She felt the cold marble against her bare legs and began to shiver. A warm fluid-like pillow surrounded her head soaking into her hair.

Soft whispery cries were coming from somewhere.

Baby Amelia!  Her thoughts began to collect as she slowly turned her head and saw her daughter on the floor nearby, kicking her legs and waving her arms.

A sense of relief filled her body and the blackness covered her face.


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Doing the Best I Can

Like most mothers. I continually doubt every decision I have ever made for my children.  Should I have done this?   What if I had decided this?  I wish I would have….

My children are all grown and I now have grandchildren.  One of those is almost grown.  So why this feeling of insecurity?  Is it normal?  Are there moms out there somewhere that know they have made the right decisions every time?

I doubt it.  We are moms, which is a monumental task and we are human so we make mistakes.  As a working mom, while my kids were growing up, I felt guilty all the time.  I was too busy, I couldn’t be a room mother because I was at work, I got frustrated when they wouldn’t go to sleep because I still had so much to do.

Despite my successes and failures as a mom, my three children have turned into respectful and responsible adults. They are doing well with their own children and with their partners.  I am so proud of each of them.

Wishing all mothers a guilt-free, stress-free day full of love.


Losing a Friend

sunset     I walked to my front window after hearing the news.  As I looked out at the beautiful sunset, I thought of Nancy.   The sky was on fire with yellow-gold, orange, pink, and purple streaks topped with layers of fluffy white clouds.  Everything was calm and quiet.  I smiled and thought, Calm and quiet were not words that described my friend.

     We first met at school.  She had been there a few years and was experienced.  I was beginning my second year of teaching.  She was the first grade teacher and I was teaching the primary special education students.  The year was 1973 and there was no inclusion. My principal told me up front the first day of school, he didn’t know what to do with my kids but if I needed help, some of the other teachers would be of assistance.  

     And that’s where Nancy came in.  I didn’t even have to ask her.   I didn’t even know WHAT to ask her.  I was floundering and she sensed it.  Or maybe that’s just what Nancy always did to help out new teachers.   She dragged me down to the office one day a few days before school started and showed me where all the supplies were; even the ones we weren’t supposed to know about.  She showed me her room and supplies (there were many) and said Help yourself. She showed me the work area where papers could be “run off”  on the mimeograph machine and she taught me how to operate it.  And then she showed me how to get the ink off of my hands, fingers, and blouses.  A few weeks after school started, she invited my entire class to her classroom for storytime.  It became a weekly event. Sometimes we watched a TV show, or worked on an art project, or played a game of Seven Up.  I doubt she ever realized what a difference those invitations made to the students in my class…students who didn’t fit in well and were not always accepted by others.

     Nancy was one-of-a-kind, almost childlike in her enthusiasm which was why first grade was a perfect fit for her.  She was like a mother hen to all of her students; hugging them when they needed a hug, pulling and celebrating her students’ baby teeth, doctoring up skinned knees, and reprimanding those kids that seemed to stay too long in the restroom.  I remember her trimming one young student’s hair. She had mentioned to the parents that he needed a haircut but nothing happened.  She was convinced that the student’s hair was preventing him from learning to read.  He couldn’t see the book with all that hair hanging down in his face.  So she got her scissors out and solved the problem.

     The comments I saw last night from her friends, students, and colleagues mentioned kindness and a passion for what she did.  She had a deep faith in God. There was not a mean bone in her body.  She met whatever came into her path with kindness and determination. She had struggled once with cancer and won.  This time it was not meant to be.

Melanie, a friend, colleague, and mother to one of Nancy’s students of long ago said it best: “The world is a sorrier place having said goodbye to Nancy.  Heaven, on the other hand, is lighting up with joy.”

That must have been what was happening as I watched the sunset from my front window.

One Liner Wednesday…. The Winter Blues

The time has come, my husband said,

To talk of many things:

Of grocery bills and no more thrills

Of furnaces and dings

And why the bills are overdue

And why you’ve ceased to sing.


My first attempt at One Liner Wednesday (Yeah I know its kind of long)  It’s how I feel today.

Thanks to Linda for a great idea.  You can read more at this link

Whistle Stop

photo by Dawn Q Landau


“C’mon Ralph!  Hurry up! “

Ampersand jogged alongside the track with Ralph.

When they reached the clearing, helicopters hovered over the area.  Ampersand waved a small American flag and Ralph began to bark.

“Shhhh…Ralph. Behave.”


As the train approached, Ampersand jumped around doing a little dance.  But it was only the train carrying the entourage.

More minutes passed and Ralph and his child became restless.

Finally,  the train came into view, all decked out in red, white, and blue bunting.

“What’s your dog’s name?”  shouted President George Bush from the rear platform of the train.


This week’s story is based on a true event, President Bush’s campaign rail trek that came through Ohio in the fall of 1992.  The train passed near our home and we walked through a bean field to reach a farm crossing, hoping to catch a glimpse of George Bush.  President and Mrs. Bush were on the rear platform and waved to us.  We waved back as he shouted his question about our dog.   You can read a bit more here if you are interested.


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at Friday Fictioneers for this prompt.