Antoinette L Brey
I am an elder in a time of freedom. I am now retired. All i want to do is have fun. Without a daily routine, my imagination is one of my only salvations. I am not planning on writing a book, it is just for my own pleasure
No resolution My anger showing, crying My blue broken heart
Symbolizing Faith Where you hung alone with god Ignoring man's hate
To hide away
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin, The blizzard snow and the glaring sun, soaked some of the stress out of my body. We soaked in the quiet surroundings, no radio, no chitter chatter. It had been a dangerous ride, from the minute we left the snow-laden streets of the city. but now we were just minutes away from our destination. I was glad Jeff had rented the sturdier jeep, instead of the wrangler I had wanted. I fell out of the jeep onto the snow. There was a slight path, but we were still slugging through layers of snow. Thank god only one suitcase each. There was enough snow on the ground to make angels. but not enough to bury us if we had laid on the white ground.
Thanks for Giving
It was Thanksgiving, I was a little nervous, but excited. I was going to get to share some of my favorite dishes with others. My stepfather's son's family was coming over for thanksgiving. The meal was going to be at my mother's house. I would be cooking in a big kitchen with a budget that allowed me to make whatever I desired. The stuffing was my absolute favorite, an oyster and bacon filling. I think I also put the extra bacon in the green beans and goat cheese appetizer dish. My cheat dish was a Stouffers dish. A sweet potato souffle with bacon. I thought about making plain stuffing. But why bother when I don't really like it. I was feeling so proud when we sat down at the table. My mother and her husband Bob, Paul and his wife and one of their daughters. We were about to eat when all of a sudden Paul's daughter said that she couldn't eat Pork. I froze everything had pork. Inwardly I was angry, she should have told us that a week ago not when we were about to eat. but I was the hostess, so I offered to make her a baked potato in the microwave. She thanked me and ate the cooked potato. I sat down at the table ready to eat my favorite meal , Pauls wife then made a face and said that she did not like goat cheese. I choose to ignore her, wondering who had taught her manners. I remembered all the foods I had on my plate as a child. I either put them on the side of my plate or tried to hide them when I ate them in gravy or butter. My sister used to hide her vegetables in her underwear, and later flush the down the toilet. At age five we had better manners than the adults in Paul's family The conversation turned finally from the food, and I ignored the general chit-chat and ate my meal. It was the same family topics. Paul's family bragged about their family and my mother and Bob encouraged their self-centeredness. It was supposed to be a day to be thankful but nobody seemed to appreciate the food they had just eaten, or the time it took me to plan and prepare it.
The Bad start
Neither of the two girls wanted to go. The quiet girl's mood sunk at the idea of another lecture, and more education. More useless facts. The girl who was throwing a temper tantrum usually loved facts. She as usual just felt a need to be the center of attention. Which unfortunately at the moment she was. The mother tried to hold her head up high. The therapist had said it was better just to ignore her, but she was refusing to enter the aquarium. The mother appeared calm, but inside she was shaking. The agitated girl was too young to be left on her own, the mother let the quiet girl, go in on her own.
I tried not to laugh when Barbara explained where we were going. It was a small apartment in Central Square. The gypsy women recognized Barbara, they chatted like old friends. The woman had time to do my reading after, she laid out the structure of Barbara's week. I had my doubts, but Barbara came out of her reading more focused, she knew her goals and expectation. The psychic seemed to fill the role of therapist that played a part in many of my friends' lives.
These are three of my poems, from a period of my life when I strived to achieve my dreams. Giving up and observing instead of living life was not an option. The first one was written in 2004. It was a day that all my plans had been changed because of the arrival of snow