I love writing and traveling 🌿
There are many ways in my heart that I could describe as home. A warm blanket by the fireside or taking a walk all alone.
The Hidden Letter
“I’m truly sorry, ma’am. Sgt. Pérez was a great man and he died a hero.” My fingers gripped the wooden door frame harder as tears streamed down my pale cheeks. I breathed quicker.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” I held my nauseous stomach with one hand, while steadying myself with the other on the edge of the boat, hoping it would help me feel better. It didn’t.
It Was Always You
“Hey,” I motioned to the waiter with my hand as I sat down on the tall bar stool. “Can I get,” I searched the wedding dessert menu in front of me with a numb expression. “A slice of chocolate cake, please?” The waiter nodded and walked to the back to get it. I sighed and laid my little black purse on the granite counter as I turned my seat to face the dance floor. Everyone was still eating their dessert, fortunately for me, no one had begun slow dancing. It was hard enough going to these weddings alone, where two people swore to devote their love and lives to each other. But seeing them dancing across the floor, looking into each other's eyes like that, it was just too much for me to take. The waiter came back with a little silver plate and a huge slice of cake. My mouth watered with expectations. I thanked him and reached for a fork, ready to eat my feelings, when suddenly…
Letting Her Go
Breathe. It’s okay. I have to let her go. It was all I could say to keep my eyes from filling up with tears that morning. I had contemplated not going at all, wondering if it would just be better if I stayed home than witnessing what I had been dreading for weeks. But bravely, I stepped forward into the morning sunshine, observing my nervous thoughts as my thick muck boots hit against the road below me. It was a short walk to the old barn, mainly uphill but I was happy to have some time to think before the moment I knew was coming. Reaching my hand inside my jean pocket, I could feel two peppermints wrapped carefully inside. It was her favorite treat and today, I wanted to make sure I gave her one, one last time. I thought of the many moments when I had talked to her, stroking her forehead with my hand as she simply listened. She always listened. She was a calm and gentle mare, but somewhere deep inside her aged heart was still a locker full of firecrackers and passion. She would suddenly in a moment of peace display more strength and spunk than anyone ever thought she could at her age, but I loved that about her. My trainer called it disobedience and tried to force the 26 year old to follow orders every moment. But Misty hardly listened. And I never blamed her. She had lived a long life. Her white hairs were beginning to blossom around her eyes and a few strands of grey were becoming more visible down her flowing tail. She had foaled a child and been a mother. But she had been a friend and a teacher to me in numerous ways.