IT MAY BE LOVE
By: Angelica Hart and Zi
Excerpt from a manuscript in progress.
May 12
A misty mid-morning was gently touched
by rain. The lick of the sun wanted to push the clouds apart, to spread
them wide. A patter of drops could be heard splashing on the new green
foliage of the maple trees.
Our Forever Rest cemetery was
expecting a new guest. Herb Watkins. A good man. A
father. A widower. A friend.
Eight cars were parked facing the
same direction in a row on the narrow path. A small group of mourners
were huddled beneath umbrellas flanking a coffin on one side. A minister
stood facing them balancing his umbrella, reading from his vade mecum.
It leather bound, worn by time was protected as if a sugar treasure from the
rain.
The loved ones were silent.
One female, his only daughter, was tearing. Frequently, wiping them from
her face with a wad of tissue she had balled in her hand though not making a
sound. She stood somewhat separate from the group. Wearing a dark
blue pants suit and holding a blue umbrella. She was the only family he had and
he hers.
EULOGY
The service for Herb Watkins was attended by a larger number of people then did
Mr. Matters anticipate. He realized that in his private way Watkins had
affected others. This was a refreshing act of support to his premise that
Herb was a special man.
By many standards this would be
considered a small gathering. But considering he had one living family
member and by most standards he was a graybeard with few friends. An
old-timer who stayed to himself. Old-fashioned. Set in is
ways. A loner. Yet, he touched others in a human way.
Just prior to Mr. Matter’s eulogy he
turned to his son and handed him the paper with a poem his son had written and
asked, “Could you read this today for Mr. Watkins? I have realized that
in some small way that you became the proxy grandson he had hoped to have.
I know this is asking a lot of you but I know Herb would appreciate it. I
believe that.”
Ronny took the paper, hesitated then
responded, “I’ll do it.”
Ronny unfolded the paper his father
had handed him, and looked at for a long twenty seconds. Raised his now
reddening eyes to peer at the mourners and began, “I have titled this PROXY
GRANDFATHERS IN PERPETUITY.
He read:
The nevers are far too many
Sad that is
Their scars time-lines of a hard
life
Each worn with honor and respect
Time etched masterpieces
Speaking of wisdom
Experience
Endurance
Each man’s skin was aged by time
Weather,
Pain,
And worry
I stand before men of advance age
Humble and proud
I, a young manRaw with possibilities
Humbled by all of their successes
And proud that they are my
Proxy grandfathers in perpetuity.”
He folded the paper, raised his eyes
again and put the work into his coat pocket.
Ronny spoke, “Mr. Watkins was my
friend. And I am lucky for that. Thank you all for letting me share my
words.” Then he sat.
His father approached the podium and
said with a quiver in his voice, “I have never been more proud as a father then
I am today…”
The manuscript, IT MAY BE LOVE, is a
romance of a young woman, Mr. Watkins’ daughter, who was looking for online
love, and found mystery and danger.
We share this specific piece because
it highlights our ample respect for the elderly and in light of one of our
works in re-progress, a romantic thriller which has a backdrop of folks at an
Assisted Living Facilities being in great peril… we felt it apt. Our
minds were with those of advanced years. We adore the oldies.
****
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~
CHASING YESTERDAY CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL ~ Christmas 2012
http://www.champagnebooks.com/
Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane STEEL EMBRACE
BOOK NOOKIE-A LIBRARIAN'S BUIDE TO THE DO-ME DECIMAL SYSTEM
http://www.carnalpassions.com/
THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com
RECENT RELEASE!
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