Shhh! Scribbler at Work

Absence Makes the Heart...

(prompt: 'missing' 11/5/18)

She smiled bravely, raising her glass to toast this celebration - the culmination of another year of love and giving; and once again in thankfulness for the comfort of the love and warmth surrounding her - in the bosom of her family - as she liked to call them these days. Stoically she held her tears in check.

Her mind filled with whispered memories of celebrations past. Big noisy Christmases, with the twinkle of candles and Christmas tree lights reflecting hope and joy in the sparkling tinsel winking and blinking from every direction. The crackle of tearing paper and children squealing and giggling over a backdrop of the harmony of a choir singing as a multitude of musicians performed the familiar chords of beloved music.

And birthdays. So many birthdays. Countless scenes sped before her mind's-eye. A wry smile twisted her lips as one bizarre moment stood out from the rest. Her youngest son's 10th. Lights were dimmed so only the candles on the cake lit up the faces of a table surrounded by a shuffling horde of his rowdy mates and siblings. As they finished singing an out-of-tune rendition of Happy Birthday, he sucked in the hugest breath and blew with all his might. An involuntary short chuckle escaped as once again she saw the table AND guests covered in a layer of coconut - the disguise she'd applied to the Pink Pig cake to hide a few disastrous icing spots. Instead, she'd created a dandruff attack of epidemic proportions!

Her smile faded and eyes softened as the anniversaries took centre stage now, forcing all other celebrations aside. What a gentleman he'd been, her husband, her darling Wal. And what a gentle man, too. My husband! How she'd savoured her new name from the day the minister pronounced them husband and wife. Their decades together never dulled the magic of those words. Her smile returned as she pictured times they'd spent alone but together - always together. Romantic, candle-lit dinners, clinking glasses to honour each other and their love. It wasn't always so, but still she smiled. There were the years of creating and growing and nurturing the babies, their wonderful children - especially when the little ones were too small to leave, even for a few hours. No regrets there. Each and every moment spent with her loved ones had been precious beyond compare.

She blinked furiously several times. The tears brimmed, threatening to overflow. In desperation she stood up and crossed the large dining room of the aged care home, saying "Ahh, just a moment. Forgot I still had this present from my daughter in my bag". And as she pulled the prettily wrapped box out into the light of day, the gift card fell open. As she read the verse, the tears rained unchecked down her lined cheeks – even before the loving Mother's Day greeting tore her self-control completely apart.

"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God.

That's why we call it the present."