Woman in the Window (Blog Hop Story)

Mandatory words: satellite, lawyer, check, buoy, rescue

Mandatory words: satellite, lawyer, check, buoy, rescue

*Above is the blog hop photo prompt with its attached mandatory words. Below is my story to go with it. Enjoy!*

July 21, 2012

                It must be Wednesday again. I can smell the cherry pie baking downstairs. I love cherry pie day because it reminds me of my grandkidlets. I remember when they were young, running around my big back yard with the enormous cherry tree. Makes me smile every time I think of those summer days. Seven cousins just living out those childhood memories– running around outside, squealing and laughing and filling my heart with the greatest joy only a grandmother could know.

I miss them.

I wonder what they’re doing these days. I think Eliana is a lawyer now and Carson works for a chemical company. Not sure about the others. I miss getting cards from them with their letters.  Everyone is so busy. Not much time to think about grandma over here at The Ambassador! Ha! That’s okay. I love them and pray they are happy.

It would be nice to see my daughter; her visits have become less frequent since her father died. Perhaps it’s too painful to come here and spend time with me. I suppose I understand that, but it gets lonely here. This cozy corner by the window has become my daily refuge, where I observe the bustle of the city and pay attention to my thoughts. Today is a lovely day to be by the window. Portland is beautiful in the summertime, and the air is perfect. I asked the staff if they’d be so kind as to open the window since my hands don’t work quite as well as they used to.

As I breathe in the fresh air, I focus in on the sights and sounds of the city below wondering what all those busy people are doing. (No need for that fancy satellite television to rescue me from my loneliness!) There’s plenty out this window keeping my mind occupied.  I confess at times I feel as though I’m like buoy on the ocean, occupying my little space within the swells and currents of the moving world, yet I do not move with it. I’m simply the woman in the window watching it all happen around me. Missing my family.

I didn’t mean to write about my solitary life today. Yesterday I saw a man and woman get off the bus with their guitars in hand. It had reminded me to tell you the story of the time my siblings and I took a bus trip from Nevada to Oklahoma City to visit our grandfather’s farm. That’s a good story! I guess the smell of fresh cherry pie distracted my thoughts. Can’t blame a woman for letting her heart follow her nose!

“Mrs. Duncan?” Susan, the head activities director, asked.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you knock. I’m sorry.” Mrs. Duncan replied.

“That’s okay. I wanted to check and see if you were joining us for lunch today. It’s cherry pie day, you know.” Susan said, a warm and knowing smile spread across her face.

“Oh I do know. I’ll be there!”

Word count= 499

7 thoughts on “Woman in the Window (Blog Hop Story)

  1. Christopher Shawbell

    Leanne,
    This is one of my favorite pieces of yours. Mrs. Duncan has a deep reservoir of emotions, and I could feel that they were tied to memories told and untold that gave her a depth and history that pulled me right into her. She was writing to her late husband, wasn’t she? Moved me intensely.
    With all the above comes a tender eloquence of presentation – your style you use here amplifies the feel of the whole piece.
    ” I feel as though I’m like buoy on the ocean, occupying my little space within the swells and currents of the moving world, yet I do not move with it.”
    Exquisite line. It tells me everything about her in this moment, what she does, what she is waiting for, and that she is okay with it.
    Wow, Leanne! Wow!
    And you didn’t know if you’d get something out this week…

    ~Christopher

    Reply
    1. Leanne

      Thank you so much, Christopher. 🙂 You’re right; this week was quite uncertain for me. Mrs. Duncan is a combination between my maternal grandmother (who passed away about five and half years ago) and who/what I imagine I will be as a grandmother. She is me all the way through, when I think about it deep enough. It just sort of happened… the experiences here have a mixture of true-life from my own childhood (cherry tree in my grandmother’s back yard, playing with my cousins, etc.), and what I observe happening with our senior citizens now, and what I fear will happen when I am living in a senior home someday.

      The line you pointed out came to me in the middle of the night… and then it all sort of came together into this piece. That line is what I imagine the world feels like to a senior citizen today.

      I actually imagined Mrs. Duncan just writing this entry into a personal journal in hopes that one day someone in her family would find it and take interest in what she had to say, the stories she had to tell, and how her days were living at The Ambassador… since no one bothers to listen now. 🙂

      Thanks again for the insightful comment, Chris! I truly appreciate it.

      Reply
  2. Sally

    This is beautifully written and touches a nerve when we think of our older relations who we don’ see as often as perhaps we should.

    Reply
    1. Leanne

      Thank you, Sally! I didn’t visit my grandmother as much as I should have when she was here in Portland, OR and alive. A part of me regrets not taking the time to sitting with her more and taking in her stories. I fear the same will happen to me when I become a grandmother living in a senior home… just kind of set aside unless it’s a special occasion. As I learn more about the hearts of our senior citizens from a friend who works with them directly at a senior home, I realize they have so much to offer in the ways of wisdom and stories and love.

      Thanks again for reading it and taking the time to comment. 🙂

      Reply
  3. Scott Taylor (@HyggeMan)

    Well Leanne, you’ve done it again. When I looked at the picture I never imagined anyone inside, but you took us inside. I only knew one grandparent and he passed away when I was nine. My dad’s parents passed away in the 1930’s and 40’s. I would love to have known them better. And as we get older, I think of what it will be like to reach that age. Nicely done.

    Reply
  4. jp

    This brings back memories. Cherry trees were very much a part of my childhood as was cherry pie (they even feature in my book). We were sent to pick them by our grandmother’s and would spend half the day climbing the trees, gathering and eating the cherries.

    Reply
    1. Leanne

      That sounds like so much fun! We did the same! I remember one particular day, though, where I stayed inside eating cherries from a bowl sitting on the couch-side table in my grandmother’s living room. She walked in, took one look at me, went back outside to my mom and said, “Do you want Leanne eating all those cherries?” My mom came in and told me to stop eating cherries and to go back outside to play.

      I don’t know why I remember that, but it is memory that has stuck with me for the last 20 years!

      Thanks for your comment, JP. 🙂

      Reply

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