This week at Glyn Wilton’s Mixed Music Bag,
he’s asking us to write about a song in which
the title or a line mentions the current month.
Here’s my featured August artists and their song.
Tag: Love Letter
TENDER LOVING CARE
“Summer Breeze. I’ll be damned! Dad loved that boat so much! How’d you end up with that old painting anyway, sis?” Jenny reached for the glass of wine her sister offered her; it had been ages since they had a chance to get together and catch up.
“Mom put it out with the trash after Dad died. She hated that boat, you know. Don’t ask me why but on an impulse I took it out of the trash when Mom couldn’t see. I never told you that story?” Missy asked Jenny, peering over the rim of her wine glass.
“Are you serious, Missy? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that story. Did Mom ever find out about the painting?” Jenny asked Missy.
“No. She died before Sam and I bought this place. The painting’s been hanging over the fireplace since the day we moved in.”
“We sure spent a lot of time with Dad on that boat, didn’t we, Missy? Too bad Mom was never there with us.”
Missy stared at her sister. “You know, Mom would have been on the Summer Breeze with us if she didn’t get so damn seasick. I remember how she begged Dad to get an RV instead of a boat but he was adamant. ‘I’m alive on the water’, he’d say. ‘The girls and I will sail down to The Keys while you tend to the garden and write your stories. It’s a win/win for everyone!’‘ Missy imitated her father’s bombastic way of talking.
“Adamant and dismissive! He definitely showed that boat more TLC than he ever showed Mom” Jenny said, a bit of anger tinging her voice.
“I wonder if she was sad being alone so much.” Missy thought aloud and the two sisters sat quietly sipping their wine, lost in thought.
“OK, enough of this talk, Jen! It’s bumming me out! I’ve got a project I’ve been putting off for a while. How about giving me a hand?” Missy asked, refilling her sister’s glass.
Jenny laughed. “Sure! Just keep the wine coming, sis.”
“Great. Can you take the painting of the Summer Breeze off the wall? There’s a step ladder in the kitchen closet. I’ll be right back.”
Missy returned carrying some tools and a new picture frame. “Sid and I picked up this frame in Nantucket two years ago. I think it’s perfect for the Summer Breeze.”
Jenny laid the painting face down on the table and the two sisters began carefully removing it from the original frame. Once it was out of the frame, the cardboard covering the back of the painting fell away. The girls were bewildered to find nine small flat packages precisely wrapped in yellowed tissue paper stuck to the back of the painting.
“What on earth are these?” Jenny asked, clearly very curious.
“I have no idea” Missy replied. “I never even knew they were there.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Open one … but be careful! They look like they’re ready to fall apart”
Missy tentatively removed the diaphanous tissue paper from one package. Inside was an envelope with a letter enclosed. Removing the letter, she saw it was addressed to her mother. Silently she read it, her eyes widening in amazement.
“Damn it, Missy! Read it out loud!” demanded Jenny.
In a shaky voice, Missy read “My darling Beth. You just left and I’m already missing you. I long for the next time we can be together. Loving you – Philip”
The girls read all the letters, then sat in stunned silence.
Pensively Missy whispered, “Mom was having an affair. The whole time Dad left her to spend time on the Summer Breeze, she was with another man. Do you think Dad suspected?“
“No way! He only had eyes for the Summer Breeze and was oblivious to everything and everyone else” Jenny replied, somewhat shaken.
“She saved his letters, Jen! He must have been so special to her.”
“Well, I’m glad she was getting the special tender loving care she she so deserved. Good for her! What do you want to do with these letters?” Jenny asked.
“There’s only one thing to do” Missy replied, picking up the letters and walking to the fireplace. “We have to burn them. Here, let’s do this together, for Mom.”
The sisters placed the letters in the fire and watched them immediately be consumed by the flames. They smiled as one small piece flew around the fireplace, then disappeared up the chimney, heavenward.
Jenny raised her glass. “Here’s to you, Mom.”
“To Mom” Missy echoed.
NAR © 2023
Sail on over today to
At The Movies.
I’ll save you a seat!
https://rhythmsection.blog/
COME FLY WITH ME
THIS IS IN RESPONSE TO DENISE AT GIRLIEONTHEEDGE’S PROMPT WORD: BUBBLE
SIX SENTENCES EXACTLY – NO MORE, NO LESS. PUNCTUATION BE DAMNED! FAULKNER WOULD DEFINITELY APPROVE.
My dearest Hope ~ How you continue to invade my thoughts in the stillness of the morning’s early hours; I awaken and for a moment I believe the dream to be true, the feel of your smooth yielding body next to mine, the tenderness of your kiss on my lips but when I reach out my arms, you are not there and a tear slowly emerges from the corner of my eye.
Somehow I manage to get through the disorder that is my life but without you I am not truly alive – I merely exist; you asked so little of me and brought unimaginable joy to my lonely world for you were my princess and I took great pleasure dressing you in satin and lace, your shining blue eyes sparkling with excitement whenever I brought home a gift for you and you delighted in each present, whether a bottle of perfume or a book of poems which I would read to you every night.
Yet, in all honesty, those steamy sensual sex games we played are what I miss the most for you were insatiable, your beautiful mouth smiling with desire, your lithe body as malleable and compliant as the branches of a willow tree; we fit together perfectly and those intimate times we shared together in our bed are etched in my mind forever.
Leaving you in the morning to go to work was torture, especially that one morning when you looked so beautiful as you slept that I didn’t have the heart to wake you so instead I placed a single rose on your breast for you to discover when you awoke and I quietly closed the door behind me leaving you alone, my darling, to dream – a concept I no longer remember as dreadful nightmares constantly invade my sleep leaving me bereft; only the knowledge that you’d be there waiting for me when I returned was what got me through the day and I’d race home to see you, to embrace you, but that all ended one year ago when I found you lifeless on our bed.
Today I walked to the park and I when I remembered it was our anniversary, all the air left my body like a burst bubble leaving me feeling hollow inside; the children in the park were playing with kites and balloons, laughing with glee as the wind lifted their playthings higher and higher when suddenly one of the little girls cried out in dismay as the string escaped her hand and her balloon slowly floated out of sight, leaving the poor child inconsolable and I thought of you, calling for you to come back to me; that’s when I realized I had two choices: continue living the life of a lonely, broken man or to find someone to share my life – that, my darling Hope, is when I chose the latter for I truly believe you would want me to find happiness again, to fill this void in my wretched life.
I slowly walked home, retrieved my mail and sat on the couch, dejected, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed the tip of a familiar publication – could it be possible on our anniversary – yes, it was the Johnson Premium Dolls catalog with a large banner advertising 40% off discontinued blow up sex dolls, so with trembling fingers I flipped through the pages until I found another you, my dearest Hope; overcome with joy, I placed my order immediately and tomorrow I will insert this letter into a balloon, inflate it and release it to reach you in heaven as a reminder to myself to never again buy you roses with piercing thorns ~ My love forever, Lawrence.
NAR © 2023
The Elephant's Trunk 