The empty space

It has been a long while since I wrote a Friday Fictioneers challenge. This week’s photo, courtesy of The Reclining Gentleman, woke me up.

In case you are not aware, A photo prompt is posted each week and the challenge is to tell a story in 100 words or less.  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/02/10/12-february-2016/

You were only seven when your classmates sent the pot of blooming daffodils.

Bright, bobbing blooms to grace that hospital room. Mrs. Goodson told me how your friends at school brought in quarters so she could buy them.

We planted them by the maple tree in the yard. Do you remember?

Over the years those flowers flourished, enchanting every spring.

Later on, your youngest son helped you dig some up to plant at your home far away.

Then you went away, forever. They did not bloom again.

I wonder, do they bloom for you in heaven?

Other interesting 100 word +/- tales can be found  http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=605998http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=605998

I want to be like that sister

This is a reminder to myself. Recently I found I have a couple of serious, long term medical conditions. I will be dealing with them the rest of my life. Adjusting my thoughts and attitude is a big part of how that ‘rest of my life’ is going to be. I want to use this little vignette as my future example.

There are two sisters in our community, a bit older than I am and they both have many health issues right now. Both have husbands and families, relatively nice homes and a lot of support. So do I.

Sister One faces her ills head on, fighting all the way, getting out to walk, spending time with people. She will greet you with a smile most days, and rarely ever mentions how she feels or what is going on physically. She nearly always asks what is going on and is enthusiastic or sympathetic or what ever fits the situation. She carries with her an aura of peace, calm and hope.

Sister Two, however, walls herself away, staying home, often not getting up from her recliner except to use the bathroom and eat. On the days she is willing to accept visitors, her only topic of conversation is her last appointment, current treatments and how she feels. And sadly, she does not want to know about anything outside her sphere of misery. This sister radiates fear, sorrow and despair.

I know illness and events can bring a person down. and I know depression is a cruel monster. Seeing these two women, so alike in many ways and yet, facing the same battle so differently, brings this home again.

Let me always remember these ladies, and try to model my actions after Sister One.