Red Light, Green Light, Go!
Molly looked up above to the top of the tall tree. The green Christmas tree. And repeated the words again.
Red Light, Green Light, Go!
"Mommy! Mommy!"
A weary blonde haired mother looked up to the top of the tree, and then to her beautiful seven-year-old daughter. The child had straight dark brown hair which she had inherited from her father. She smiled.
Bending down to Molly's height, mother and daughter stared up together at the seven-foot wonder.
"Molly, my favourite child. What should we place at the top of the tree?"
Molly giggled into her mother's shoulder and sweetly spoke.
"Mommy, I'm your only child, glad I'm your favourite."
A noise came from below. Mother and child got distracted. A box of decorations was rumbling on its own.
"Blink, get out of the box."
Molly pulled her six-month old grey Persian kitten out from the huge box of Christmas tree decorations. The cardboard box that once held a large desktop computer, now contained their holiday decorations.
"Bad kitty, you could get hurt in there." Molly waved her tiny finger at the cat before kissing the top of its head and gently putting Blink down onto the floor.
Blink hung around mother and daughter, sniffing the base of the full-bodied evergreen.
Molly sat beside the box full of ornaments. She closed her eyes, stuck her hand into the brown box and blindly pulled out a red star with golden lines.
"Mommy, shall we place this red star at the top of our tree?"
Mother and child had played this game many times. One of them, usually Molly, would close their eyes and pull out the first ornament or tinsel or whatever they touched. It made the day fun, and full of surprises.
Molly couldn't contain her excitement. She had begun the box game a bit earlier in the afternoon.
Next, Molly pulled out a green light. And then another string of green lights. She loved the green on green. The monochromatic look.
The three hung around the tree, relaxing, decorating, and sipping hot chocolate with puffs of maple marsh-mellows.
Molly looked up to find tears falling down her mother's face. Startled, she yelled.
"Mommy, what's wrong. What did I do?"
A mother went to her child and sat down beside her. Softly she took her child's hand and stared deep into her eyes. Molly wiped away her mother's tears with her tiny fingers.
"Molly, this moment with you is magical. I just miss your daddy, your father. Do you remember him?"
Molly cocked her head to the right and put her hand into the Christmas decoration box. She pulled out a round red bulb with a photo of three people. Molly, her mom, and her dad.
Molly looked at the photo, and pointed at it.
"See mom, this was you, me and daddy last year at Christmas. I do remember, daddy."
"Oh Molly." A mother hugged her child. This was their first Christmas together since Charlie, her husband passed away a few months ago from a sudden heart attack. It brought sorrow to her heart. His appointment with the heart specialist was the same day he passed. If only the specialist had made the appointment sooner. Even a day before, perhaps her Charlie would still be alive today, and Molly would still have her daddy living with them.
Music played in the background. A mother pushed forward. And gently grasped her child's hand. Together mother and child put up the ornamental bulb, along with many others.
Blink curled up in the corner on a velvet blanket. First, watching the special ornament ceremony before dozing off. The sun began to sink.
A dark sky could be seen from the window. And an outline of all three huddled in front of a radiant green light of the Christmas tree, along with a red glow of pure love.
About the Creator
NJ
A creative soul at heart. Truth, love and compassion influence my creativity in the form of writing, painting, and living life.
Two Pink Lines
I had never really felt like a child. I'd always had to raise myself. My mother was just a teenager when she'd had me and consequently, we had spent my whole childhood arguing and fighting like a couple of sisters as opposed to mother and daughter. My father was older than my mother but still had some maturing to do himself. He focused his entire life on me, his little girl but never realized the pressure that put on me. I always felt I had to raise him even as he was trying to raise me. We raised each other. Then, I met him. He cares, he shows me a love like I've never known. For once, it's about me and I don't have to focus on other people's needs and what someone needs from me. Someone always wants something from you. That is what my parents have taught me. Love is selfish but it isn't with him. He is perfect, beautiful, funny, and can take me to places I've only dreamed about. Places outside my mind and my own pathetic life and I know that I will always love him. When we first met, I wanted him to have my children, but now? Right now, with us both still in high school? This is all happening so soon. I slipped into the restroom at work. It had been 6 weeks since my last menstrual and this was not normal. I couldn't wait any longer. I put the top on the test and waited. These 60 seconds felt like forever. What would we do? We were both seniors so we didn't have long to go before school was over but this was not the plan. The plan was for him to join the Army and me the National Guard and for me to get my associate's degree and then we marry, then have kids.
By Lindsey Altom4 days ago in Fiction
The Expiration of Girlhood
When I was twelve, my grandmother told me that pain was a woman’s destiny. She said this with pronounced certainty, like a doctor delivering a critical diagnosis. I was a nervous child, I bit the tips of my fingers - not the nails, just the tips, eating away at my fingerprints until they were raw, white circles of dead skin that were unnerving to look at. Stop that, my grandmother said. When I asked her what destiny meant, she answered that it was the inevitable happenings of life. When I asked her what inevitable meant, she answered that it means unavoidable. So, pain was unavoidable for women, what a senseless and dark condition to have, I begged her to tell me if she knew of any cures and she laughed and said the only thing that’s provided her an inch of relief was self-medication. I asked, self-medication of what, she said of whiskey.
By Shannon Foley3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.