The door opened and weary smile greeted weary smile, bodies moving as if floating down a river as they entered the bedroom. From across the wooden floor, a tired heart, lying alone, watched what appeared to be shapes, hues muted, one large and one small, come forth as silver angels. She could not speak and nodding her head was a herculean task. As if with all her might, she moved her head as one might move a boulder blocking life from death and within a face hardly recognizable two eyes looked with a love that induced three sets of tears. Her right hand began to tremble, the effort to lift against the force of nature and gravity too great, and as a plane too heavy to launch powers down, her hand exhaled and laid still, her eyes filled with (urgency) failure . . .
"Kyra, it's time. The others will be waiting."
"On my way Rog."
Kyra wiped her eyes and on bended knee bowed her head and wiped a few more.
Papa stood behind Kyra, his weathered hands on her small shoulders. "I love you Grand," she whispered, her tiny hand reaching out and where there was cold a warmth radiated and skin white became flush. Grand tried to speak. Her lip quivered as her eyes looked down upon a gift bestowed by Janus himself. Kyra turned her head to Papa, and with his thumb, wiped away a tear pure. "The great river of life Kyra. We all journey together and we all journey alone." As if cradling a pillow to his torso, he held her head within his hands, his white tunic wet with love. "Your Grand loves you too."
57 comments:
In honor of my maternal grandmother. Her husband, my grandfather, has, in part, been the role model for Papa.
The image was chosen to compliment the one used for Papa here: Quietus
Rog is calling Kyra to a Bravo karaoke night (a Bravo tradition the crew is much in need of revisiting--see story label for the last one). We will see Ariel take the stage (aka Connie Talbot) for the first time and John too will sing. Trev and Em will do dueling songs, each speaking to the other with verse and the night will end with Rog and a song that always brings healing tears to my tired and weary eyes. Oh, and Kyra may be asked to sing her signature song: Liebe Ist. Maybe. ;-)
Keep it up.
One foot in front of the other, one day at a time, understanding there are only moments we are either present for or we are not. I will do my best Darkman.
With enough Patron in me, Mr. Tree...
I just might wanna get up and sing along with everyone.
My song of choice would be, of course....
Do you wanna touch..
Yeah!
Do you wanna touch...
Yeah!
Do you wanna touch me there-ere?
by the ever-lovely Ms. Jett.
Now I wanna sing.
And I can't.
Cos I'm in the computer lab at school.
Happy Margarita-making!
Oh, and the images on the past Karaoke posts frailin' RAWK. The SNF dancefloor...simply stellar. Open sesame.
Makes me wanna put my boogie shoes on...
Everybody get down, Hwah!
Strumper, all I can think to say is: You SO FRAILING Rowk. You are Strumpet and you are a Frailing Blogger. Now SO bend over. It's time darlin'. :-D
Together and Alone. The title bears more significant meaning the further one gets in the post, by the end that alone is enough. This is a beautiful, touching chapter, the river flowing as it always does and the way in which you have laid still one as the others move in makes the metaphor all the more poignant for it's indirectness. Together and Alone, the love that exists between the three of them has always shone so very bright, in times of togetherness and in times of goodbye or remembrance, and it does so here too, all the more for Kyra present feeling shedding the tears that she did that day too, so many years later, love has not diminished, the memories have not faded. It is perhaps the sight of Papa wiping her tears with his thumb, being Papa as always and talking to her, holding her, when one knows that he himself feels as she does. Only a heart such as yours could write something like this. Together and Alone, though we be surrounded by love, though we may take it with us. As if cradling a pillow to his torso, he held her head within his hands, his white tunic wet with love. I loved this part best, wet with love. My heart aches for them, and rejoices that they knew what it meant to love and be loved.
Thank you Sweetest. This chapter was both hard and easy to write, as if something within me needed escape, needed to see light, needed to be known. And thus it is written, and thus it is known.
As always, your kind and thoughtful comments are deeply appreciated. Thank you.
I like the blue and yellow pic at the top, Tree.
It reminds me of space barbed wire.
Strump, that was SO one of my favorite images. The ring of a Tao. Lots of memories tied up in that one. :-)
By the way, Papa gave Kyra his ring, the one in the image you mentioned, and she wears it from a chain around her neck, nestled within the valley of her creamy amplitude. :-D
A beautiful tribute.
I'm looking forward to the karoke event...
Thank you Miladysa.
I do not speak their language, even then congratulations. Cotinue the game.
Thanks Burity.
Wow!!! Insane writing skills you got there. Amazing stuff.
Beautifully written. How I so enjoy the Kyra/Papa chapters.
Jennifer, you are very kind. Thank you. :-)
Deb, thank you. The Papa/Kyra chapters have always been special to me and I think always will. My heart is in that relationship and I suppose always will. So glad you enjoy them too. :-)
Wow.
Its an emotional story... sad to think that we all go alone even when there's someone there to see you off xx
Elise, as they say, into this world alone, out of it the same way. I tend to think we spend most of the time inbetween pretty much the same way in our own heads, seeing what we see, hearing what we hear with only a vague sense that anyone else really ever knows us and what we think and what we feel and what we experience. You may disregard this comment since it was written before my first cup of coffee. :-D
Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment. Always appreciated.
Austin, :-)
Hi,
I just started blogging, and was looking for some people that could help me blog better, The tips are definitely going to help me a lot . Thanks a lot,
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We all journey together and we all journey alone.
That is profound! I love the philosophical bent to this story.
Susan, you flatter me. And I like it. :-D
What is life if not one big question--and so we all play, we all choose our answers and then we argue endlessly that our view, our construct, our way is the right one. Playing is fun until someone pokes someone else in the eye. :-D
Sorry, for my oddish comments this morning, seems the coffee in Louisiana is having a strange effect on my ability to think clearly. Either that or all the Patron we consumed last night breaking in the margarita machine. :-D
Anon, assuming your comment is a serious one and not another spam message, here is the generic advice I'd give anyone on any matter. Do it. Want to write better--write. Want to play better--play. Want to blog better--blog. Everything else everyone else will tell you is just mental clutter and will confuse you. Just blog. And keep blogging. :-D
good job
Draz, thanks.
Absolutely full of LOVE!!!
what a wonderful honor.
I pray someday someone
will hold my memory as dear!
Cheers and SUNSHINE Tre'e!!
fondly. Deena
Deena, I have a strong suspicion you are surrounded by love and care and concern and love. I feel honored to be working the morning shift, a duty I would gladly shoulder for as long as necessary.
Thank you for those very kind words. Glad the sunshine and birds arrived safely. :-)
This was lovely and very poignant. Well done.
Thanks for stopping by my blog.
Hey man, these images are unbelievable, so fantastic!!!
Thanks for posting it!
Keep up this good work!!!
Hugs from São Paulo, Brasil.
AW, you kind words are taken to heart. Thank you. Looking forward to seeing how your writing class progresses. :-)
Thanks Cito. Comments like yours are very encouraging. Thank you.
I went and read the Blue Onyx post last night.
I loved it.
Awww.
And I'm ready to nestle a body shot of Patron between my own creamy amplitude whenever you're down for more tequila.
And you can sprinkle salt on me.
Oh Strumper, you have no frailing idea what a SO HO pic your comment just painted in my head. I'm bringing my salt shaker to bed, just for the idea of it. :-D
wow such a touching tribute to ur loved-ones!
Keshi.
Thank you Keshi.
very cool image, I'm usually not a fan of digital art, but you have some creative things posted here.. great work.
Is Kyra's fellowship with her Papa physically real, or a spiritual/emotional fellowship. I understand that he was 'powerful' or special and so is she. Even if they are communicating in a different realm, is it ACTUAL? Still working my way through...Jennifer
Oh, and thanks for visiting my 'mommy-blog'. The thought of Ariel going person to person fundraising in this story gave me a smile.
Ed, thanks for the very kind words--always much appreciated.
Jennifer, in a chapter like this, we are seeing Kyra "remembering" a scene from her childhood. Since Papa died, she has had no contact with him in any way. Most of what we know of Papa(Zeke) is from Kyra's remembrances, which, to some, including myself, form the most important and heartfelt chapters in the whole story. As always, thanks for taking an interest and reading. I'm flattered and honored. :-)
So much to enjoy.
Angela, I love your attitude. And I expect to see more of you, on the blog that is. :-D
I never cease to be amazed by how well you write. I love reading your blog.
Have a great day!
Jane
Thanks Jane. Kind words never get old. :-)
simply wonderful Tree, what a beautiful mind...
That was excellent Tree, you have a beautiful mind
Kristin, thank you for those very kind words. I do appreciate such warmness. Hope you visit again. Take care and have a nice weekend. :-)
Ooooh! I peeked in last night but couldn't convince my eyes to focus. The fractual beautifully suggests the gravity.
Thanks Wamblings. May I bring you a cup of coffee? French press made with loving attention to four minute detail and poured with delight into off-white cups, with a slight lip. Come have a sip with me. I want to see how you hold your cup, for in the holding, the world entire is revealed. :-D
Would you mind to make it a strong tea instead? I somehow never mastered the art of getting a coffee cup past my nose. However, just for you I will try your brew, perhaps I'm grown up now and my taste buds will have changed. takes cup between both hands, thumb slipped through the handle and tentatively tastes
Wamblings, that you would try tells me the world about you. I'll go make some tea. Will Earl Grey work?
Oh, and to see your eyes above the rim of that cup, like a beautiful songbird singing in the morning. :-)
Earl Grey would be beautiful. I think this might be a double teabag morning though. *grins* I am back at Momma's giving her primary caregiver a break and I've learned the importance of taking a sleeping pill here to make it through the barking dog and the turned on lights. I did manage to wake to my alarm at 4:30 in hopes of seeing my Aussie x girlfriend but she didn't show so I should have slept in and maybe gotten some of the sleeping pill out of my system. On the other hand, maybe there is enough of it left over in my system for a nap.
Just for the record, the gal at the drivers license office says my eyes are blue.
Blue eyes. Say no more. (takes a moment of imaginative pause). I've also been at my mom's this week watching over my grandmother who suffered two strokes over xmas and was sent home to hospice by her doctors. We don't know how much time she has left, but some time is better than no time, even if she can't speak or acknowledge who may or may not be present. I'll make the tea strong. Words not necessary. We'll just sit an take comfort in the sitting. :-)
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