Saturday, April 18, 2015

Isabella's Sactuary



                                        
In this home belongs every piece of me. It is a bit cluttered? Yes. But everything in here represents a place I’ve been or a person I’ve met and I don’t believe in throwing away tangible memories. I have always lived my life this way. Exploring, finding, and keeping. If I see something that catches my attention, I must have it. Especially flowers, even the dead ones. I value giving them one last proper home, that being mine, where they will be admired and loved. I won’t throw them away until they have completely fallen to pieces and lost all hope.
            That is why this place means so much to me, because it is me. My gardens hold my closest friends. Since I’ve never had any children of my own, I find great satisfaction in creating life through my flowers and plants. I spend most of my time out here alone, yet I don’t feel lonely because I am able to observe so much life. Each spring I see them bud, bloom, and thrive. Sure it comes with grief when they must do as plants do and eventually die out but I find hope in the fact that we will met again.
                                                                        ~
            There was a time when I had many friends and family to surround myself with, but I have gotten older, and due to what some might call “unfortunate circumstances” I haven’t had much energy to venture out any further than my gardens. The only person who comes to visit me on a more regular basis is my niece Emilia. Her father is my brother and I believe the last time I saw him was Christmas day three years ago. But Emilia and I have always remained in touch. She visits me every Friday afternoon where she will bring gardening magazines to me and I don’t ever let her leave without a basket of my fresh strawberries. She is the closest person to me yet there is still a lot she does not know about me simply because I don’t let anyone know much about me. Most of the time our conversations are for her focus around the excitement of her life. She is much younger and I enjoy listening to her youthful stories. I will occasionally let her in, but most of them time any focus on me is quickly deflected by me with questions about her. I am okay with this arrangement. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I consider my mind and secrets a sacred place that prefers to be kept under lock and key I believe Emilia understands this and I’d like to say we have an unspoken agreement on it.
                                                                        ~
            Today is a beautiful Friday morning, the day of our usual visit. However, I received a phone call from Emilia earlier in the week informing me that she would not be able to make it over because she wasn’t feeling well. I used this as an opportunity to spend extra time to explore my favorite place, my gardens. It’s a shame Emilia would be stuck inside all day because it was exceptionally beautiful out. I felt the sun warming skin so I decided to put on my favorite sundress and head out to explore the yard. I slid on my shoes and with basket in hand, I headed down the pathway.
                                                                        ~
Two or three house must have passed since I had left and I it weren’t for the increased cool breeze awakening my senses, I might have stayed out there even longer. Now feeling more alert, I noticed my basket was starting to overflow with my pickings so I began to retreat towards the house. I walked up the side of the house where I observed the mailman beginning his exit down my driveway. He being the only person I see more than Emilia I waved hello and we chatted for a bit. I asked him how his day was.

”Every day is beautiful!” he said. “With this gorgeous sun though, today is extraordinary beautiful.” he continued.

I smiled in agreement and turned away toward the house when I had to stop because I noticed Emilia’s Volkswagen Beatle at the end of my driveway. Feeling perplexed I made my way up the walk way and entered the side door.  There was Emilia sitting at my marble-topped table. I came in from behind her but she knew I was there because she could see me approaching through the mirror that hung slightly transverse to her. There were many recently dropped of mail and letters scattered across the table. It was difficult to read her expression because I am not used to seeing her without a smile. I then noticed that she had opened one of the letters. My mind didn’t need much time to put the pieces together. I knew what was playing out in front of me. What she had discovered were my bills. Medical bills to be exact. One for every doctor visit I had not paid for. It was then that I knew she’d found out my secret. The one I’d hope no one would know. Tears were now in her eyes and she couldn’t get any words out and neither could I. I could not place together any words that would make this go away.  She handed me the envelope addressed to me from Midwest Oncology office. It was obvious now that for the first time, I was going to have to be gut wrenchingly honest with her. But for now, the only three words that wouldn’t leave my head were; “Yes Emilia….cancer”.

5 comments:

  1. i really enjoyed the first paragraph i thought it did a great job at telling you who the main character was and it was really well written. you could definitely see elements of the original story within this story as well.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This shows a great sensitivity to the subtlety of Wollf's story, Kristin. Very nicely done. As Shannon says, you interact with the story well, and yet you give it a lovely modern touch. My only request is a careful proofreading. Lovely.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I really liked how you took the story and made it into a more first person perspective, and I really liked how you took certain key elements of the original story and put a more modern touch on them

    ReplyDelete
  5. I liked how the story was told with a more modern sense. You have a really nice writing style, especially for this story. I thought it was really nice.

    ReplyDelete