Ache Flake

SUNDAY MORNING UPDATE: I’m feeling much better today. Wow, that jetlag … amirite? Remind me not to blog for 24 hours the next time  I fly back from the coast. Let the record show that I am still pretty, only now it’s more of a sagging, overweight kind of pretty.


When we took up residence here  so many years ago, among the things that two found in the back yard were an umbrella clothes dryer and a big willow tree. The laughable line dryer was the first thing to go and Sami installed a two lines on reels that ran at a slanted angle from the back of the house to the big tree. I had a talent for arranging the goods in type, color and size order. I hung everything out and it was beautiful, satisfying to every one of my senses.

I took a shower today and knew as soon as I picked up a stiff, scratchy towel I knew that that someone had washed it and slung it over the deck rail to dry. I rubbed it against my face for a long time and until it got damp and soft, I remembered how strong and energetic I was then.

They keep talking about what they saw when they  were transferring old video tapes to CDs this week. “You were so pretty!” So excited to discover this lost history, this thing about me long gone. They don’t even hear what they’re saying about the me now.

The tree fell down and the children are adults and I’m always tired.

5 thoughts on “Ache Flake”

  1. You can come sit by me, Suzette. I turn 52 next week. Fortunately, I was never pretty so I don’t have to endure any such sincerity, but I was young.
    Loss comes in many forms.

  2. I know the feeling. Time attacked, gravity struck, and our age group became invisible.
    The demons Used To and Should Have ride our shoulders and hiss in our ears, and eyes that used to look for us look past us.
    I’m sure I’ll find a silver lining among the gray hairs later, but right now… yeah, it sucks.

  3. This week I covered a fire in 104 degree heat, 104 being a number that is my age multiplied by two. Out there in the sun, breathing smoke and diesel fumes I came to the conclusion that I’m not 17 any more.
    And who let that happen?

  4. The tree fell down and the children are adults and I’m always tired.
    Girl. Who’s sitting next to you while you’re tired, holding your hand that aches from dialing your childrens’ phones and petting the dog? Mmmm-hmmm. He’s still there.
    As for the tree – well, maybe Algore will visit?

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