Archive for the 'Holiday' Category

Dec 06 2006

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sarah flanigan

Christmas Dog

I put you in
a suit of Elf
and asked you not
to be yourself
No wag, no bark, no jump or drool
for just the season of the yule

So many pictures
I did take
and promised you
both shrimp & steak

You stood there mute
so mad at me
that I was worried
you would pee
and make a mess
for me to clean
while gloating like
some beauty queen.

No matter how
I begged or teased
you gave no damn
if I was pleased.

When at last
I was done
I let you loose
to have some fun
you took your chewie
jumped on the bed
made a face
and rolled back your head

But that’s okay
cuz you’ll forget
about the suit
and the hat.

And next Christmas
when you’re not looking
a new yule suit
I’ll be hooking
about your belly
so big & fat
and you’ll be wishing
you were the cat.

copyright 2006

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Dec 03 2006

Profile Image of sarah flanigan
sarah flanigan

David’s Angel

 

David was a good man. And everything about him said kindness and caring.

“Fuck Christmas!” he muttered after passing the 50th storefront display. “I fucking hate Christmas.”

The crunch of the snow underfoot serenaded him as he trudged along. His breath, a smoky fog led him to the train station. Thunk, went his book bag on the seat next to him. A little girl in a Christmas red coat, smiled at him and his heart softened. She reminded him of Emily at that age. He smiled back.

The little girl’s mother seared him with a look and pulled the girl along to another seat at the front of the car.

“For cripes sake,” he said to himself. “People are fricking paranoid.” He caught a glimpse of himself in the window and shut up. No wonder the little girl’s mother was worried. He looked like one scary dude.

He slumped in his seat and let his mind wander during the long ride home. He tried to do Christmas math in his head. If he didn’t pay this bill or went without new shoes and didn’t replace the bald tires on his truck he could get his wife something pretty. Not expensive or extravagant, like a pair of diamond earrings - too far out of his reach. Plus he had his girls too. Some books, a few CDs, maybe a little more. His head ached. From the beginning of time, it seemed to him, Christmas had always been a problem. A disappointment. Proof positive that he couldn’t do what he wanted for the three people in his life whom he loved more than anything. That he couldn’t shower them with anything their hearts desired stabbed at his heart daily.

The train slowed and signaled his stop was upon him. He rose, shouldered his book bag and shuffled to the exit. A split second before the doors opened he saw the little girl again, reflected in the glass. She smiled at him. And he thought he saw wings. Swoosh. The doors opened and the little girl was gone.

The two blocks home he took slowly, still thinking about what he would do for Christmas. He already worked all the overtime he could get - there just wasn’t any room to do more. He heaved a sigh and his breath fogged a cloud in the night air.

“David,” the voice came softly.

He stopped and looked around the empty street. Nothing there. No one there.

“You’re so damned tired now you’re hearing voices,” he scolded himself. The chill air made him shiver. He thrust his hands in his pockets and started walking again.

“David,” the voice came again - from nowhere, from everywhere.

“Who is that?”

He turned and there she was again, the little girl from the train. No longer in the red coat. No longer accompanied by her mother. But perched on the fountain in the square. She smiled again and warmth embraced David as though he stood at the edge of paradise.

“Who are you?”

“I am your heart,” she said in a voice that caressed his cheek.

He took a step closer. “Am I really seeing you? How did you get up there?” He reached out his arms afraid she would fall but she disappeared. “Where’d you go?”

No answer came, no children appeared. He went home.

Kathy was cooking in the kitchen and the smell of homemade soup made him realize he was famished. David slipped his arms around her waist. “Hi beautiful.” He nuzzled her neck. Her golden curls smelled of lemons.

“Ah, the warrior returns.” She giggled. “Hungry?”

Soon, he, Kathy, Emily and Susan sat around the table and it was all good. It was safe. It was home. It never stopped amazing him that he had such beautiful girls in his life. How blessed he was to have them. What he had ever done to deserve them he never knew. His heart ached again for all he couldn’t give them.

The girls chattered about school and boys and movies. They giggled and tugged on his beard when he tried to hug them. “Oh Dad.”

“What? You too big for your old dad to give you a hug?”

Rolling eyes, more giggles and they were off to their rooms and their teenage worlds.

He looked after them. “They are growing up too fast.”

Kathy smiled and shook her head. “We’re getting old too fast.” She cleared the table and filled the dishwasher.

“Want some help?”

She waved him off. “No, dear husband, I have it all under control. Go relax.”

He woke hours later, lying on the couch, television going. “Oh cripes.” He stumbled to bed - Kathy fast asleep - the house a silent cocoon.

***

“David…” The voice stirred his dreams into images of love and color. He nestled closer to Kathy, a smile on his face, a warmth spread through him.

“David, I am your heart…” the voice of the little angel girl came again. He opened his eyes and her face filled his field of vision. Her smile made him helplessly happy.

“Who are you, really? Why are you here?”

She took his hand and then they were flying. Above the rooftops, and traveled with the stars.

“It’s so beautiful,” he murmured. “Can I stay here forever?”

“Honey? Honey!”

David’s eyes opened and saw Kathy’s worried face.

“What?”

She let out a breath. “My God, I thought you were dead.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she pressed her cheek to his. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

He held her tightly. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

She untangled herself from his arms and scrutinized him. She put her hand to his forehead. “You feel warm, I’m getting the thermometer.”

He sat up in bed. “I’m fine,” he insisted. In fact, he had never felt better. “It’s just a little warm in here.”

She paused.

“You know me, I’m like a furnace when I sleep. Come on, everything is fine.”

She nodded, though her eyes didn’t believe him. “Okay. Okay.” She pulled her robe around her. “Up and at em then, time for breakfast.”

His day was like a dream - lovely in muted color and feeling. Nothing, no one, bothered him. His step was quick and easy. Life seemed so good and yet nothing had changed. He still worked a ten hour day. He still had a long commute to work and home. The air was still frigid, the world still covered in snow. But the smile never once left his face.

On his walk to take the train home he lingered and looked in the shop windows. They dazzled him. All gold and silver, sparkle and light. The jewelry store drew him in. A place he would normally avoid and knew he had no right to even enter opened its arms to him.

“May I help you?” the saleslady asked.

“I want to get my wife something nice,” he said as though he had the budget to shop there.

“What did you have in mind?”

The next hour was spent looking at diamond earrings for Kathy and gold necklaces for the girls.

The cell phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hello?”

“David!” Kathy cried. “It’s Emily!”

The world crashed down around him. “What? What about Emily?”

Kathy cried, unable to speak.

“Where are you? What is happening?”

“Huntington Hospital,” she sobbed. “Come now!”

***

Kathy and Susan huddled in green, plastic chairs in the corridor. Their tear-stained faces white with worry stabbed at his chest. He ran to them. “What’s happened? Where is Emily?”

“We were just fooling around,” Susan weeped. “Throwing snow balls. Just playing, Daddy…”

David couldn’t breathe and the world felt so small.

“She didn’t see the car. She slipped and…”

***

David stood vigil over Emily’s bed. She looked so helpless and pale. Hooked up to machines like some freakish life-sized doll. Kathy and Susan slept in chairs unable to fight the exhaustion any longer.

“Why, why, why?” his mind screamed.

There is no why,” the voice came again. And there she was, the little angel girl who appeared at will.

“Go away!” he screamed her. “Stop coming into my head!”

“You have to let her go.” She touched his hand.

“I do not! I won’t! You can’t make me!” He sobbed and clung to Emily’s hand. It was so cold. Why was it so cold?

“David…”

He put his hands to his ears. “No, I don’t hear you. I won’t hear you!”

He fought and fought hard but exhaustion captured him and he fell to fitful sleep. He fell down, down, down and could do nothing to stop it. Then she caught him and his landing was soft and sweet.

“Why do you catch me when I’m falling?” he asked.

She took his hand and led him down a corridor. It was so quiet, so still. “See this,” she said.

David was in the room where a little girl lie in a bed. Small, frail, barely breathing a breath. He shook his head. It couldn’t be. It was his little angel girl. Her father sat at her bedside, her hand to his cheek. He prayed in a whisper, he wept without sound. Her hand went limp.

“I don’t want to see this. I don’t. Don’t make me look,” David cried.

A light filled the room and a hand reached out to the little angel girl and she rose from her body to take the hand offered.

“I know what you’re trying to tell me. I know,” David screamed. “Why God, oh why?” His words echoed the little angel girl’s father.

She paused and looked back at them both. “I am your heart and shall never leave you.”

Blackness.

***

“Daddy? Daddy!”

David lifted his head at Emily’s bedside. He couldn’t believe his eyes - she was awake and making her funny face at him. “Is it you?”

She laughed like a little windchime. “Who else?” She tousled his hair.

He sat up. “But…the accident…you were…” He looked for Kathy or Susan but they were gone. “Where is your mom and Suz?”

“They went to the cafeteria. Don’t worry, they’ll be back.”

He couldn’t speak or stop the tears that ran down his face.

Tears sprang to her eyes too. “I’m sorry Daddy. I’m so sorry I was so stupid. I’m sorry I scared you.”

He hugged her the best he could. “No baby, it’s okay - Daddy’s here. It’s all okay.”

And as he hugged his daughter and thanked God for not taking her from him he saw his little angel girl smiling at him. “I am your heart, I shall never leave you.” And she became the sunlight that spread in the room and glowed warm and gold.

“I am your heart too,” David murmured. “Always and forever.”

6 responses so far

Dec 02 2006

Profile Image of sarah flanigan
sarah flanigan

I Gave You a Tie

 

I gave you a tie
you gave me a hat.
We trudged through the snow
winter’s white mat.

Our cheeks went all red
the air crackled cold
the wind blew right through us
but we were still bold.

Our hearts were alive
with good Christmas cheer
because my dear friend
we were always so near.

One response so far

Nov 27 2006

Profile Image of sarah flanigan
sarah flanigan

I Don’t Remember You…

“I don’t remember you.” Those words made their mark deeply. I found myself at the edge of a cliff all the landmarks of my affection gone.

Memories, from my first sight of him, cooing and reaching out his arms to me to the hundreds of outtings he, his mother and I made over the years screamed and careened past me. I didn’t know what to say. I felt an odd expression on my face - one I had no control to change.

“Really?” I muttered and tried not to sound sad. He was a child after all. Just eight years old. The complexity of human emotion still a concept he sought to grasp.

“Yeah, really.” He said it simply with no crack in the door to wedge my foot in.

I smiled and patted his arm. “Well, that’s okay honey. I remember you.”

It had been a long time. Fours years. Not long in adult time but it was half of his life span. Children change so much so quickly. I told myself it was okay. Not to feel sad or disappointed. I told myself I was still happy to see him. But I wasn’t very convincing. It gave the day, one of celebration - not just for a holiday dedicated to blessings and thankfulness but of the reunion with Julie, my best friend a different color.

She had moved four years ago to Montanna. How it broke my heart. Though I understood her need to get out of a big city, she had a young child to raise on her own and didn’t want him to grow up around gangs, drugs, crime and everything else that is unhealthy for children growing up in big cities. We managed to stay in touch. To phone and write and send gifts at the appropriate occasions…but it wasn’t the same. There was void without her - without them.

Travis, her son, was as much a part of my life as Julie had been. We went everywhere together. Did everything together. We even discussed the idea that if anything ever happened to her (God forbid) that I would take Travis in a heartbeat. How could I not? He had captured my heart and love the moment I looked into his big green eyes.

The Thanksgiving reunion was not just with Julie but with Travis as well. Except it really wasn’t. Because he didn’t remember me. And I didn’t know how to respond to that. Did I just back off and talk to him as though we’d just met? Ask him about school and his hobbies? It did make sense though - his reaction when I hugged him. The blank look in his eyes. The rigidness of his body. The way children act when doting strangers pinch their cheeks and tell them how much they’ve grown. I suddenly felt like that whacky old aunt that nobody remembers and everybody cringes at their presence.

The evening went on. We played Trivial Pursuit - laughed at the same old jokes and one liners that old friends do. I caught him watching me a few times and I wondered what went on in his mind. Was he remembering? He warmed up a little. Told me about his favorite movie. Complained about his younger siblings who had come into being during the four years in Montanna. Talked about his Dad (the man Julie had married and whom I was yet to meet as well). And I think out of politeness said he thought I was starting to look familiar.

Until the evening came to an end and he discovered I was going back to the hotel room with them. “Where are you going to sleep?” he wanted to know. “Somewhere,” I shrugged sensing an upset in the near future. He didn’t take kindly to giving up a bed to himself and having to share a bed with his mom. No, that wasn’t going to do at all.

And so went the next two days. Little cracks and remarks, cold stares, pouting. Each time my heart broke a little bit more. I chided myself for being so childish. I was the adult. It was my job to take it in stride. I really wanted to, I really did - but I couldn’t quite get over the shock of it. Couldn’t quite accept that I was forgettable. Reason, logic did not work in this scenario.

The night before I left he got upset about a movie or something…it was a trivial thing. I teased him and said “don’t worry I’m leaving tomorrow.” “Yeah and none too soon, either,” he snapped.

That sent me over the edge. I went to the patio and cried. I mourned the loss of my friend Travis. I finally accepted that whatever had happened in the past didn’t matter. It might just have well not happened.

It’s an odd thing when a child forgets you - no matter how much you remember them. When they look at you as they would any stranger. When you want to hug someone who is wary of you. I cannot really describe it.

At the very end we got to know each other a little - in a clean slate sort of way. I rescued him and took him on a little errand while his mother wrangled with the two little ones. I think he decided he might like me.

When we said goodbye he almost looked sad. Maybe some memory was winding its way to his awareness. Maybe it doesn’t matter. He hugged me many times and said “I love you.”

And in the end maybe that’s all that matters.

Copyright 2006

5 responses so far

Oct 31 2006

Profile Image of sarah flanigan
sarah flanigan

The Pumpkin Store

Some pictures don’t require words. Happy Halloween.

sarah

One response so far

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