30 Day/30 minute (minimum) writing practice
Memories in a home away from home.
We’re back in a home maya and I’ve been house and plant sitting for many years.
Holder of many memories. Like this one:
I call Janet, one of Dad’s caretaker. She’s just given him a shave. And then this: “Oh maureen, hold on I am running to get a nurse. I beleive your dad is on his way.” And indeed he was, last shave, last breath.
I was here in this kitchen with phone to ear while dad journeyed onward. i had just come from a walk down the old maryvale rd. wondering how will a red cardinal find me here in NS, there are no red cardinals in NS. This was my planned messenger. Dad, the red cardinal whisperer. The imagined sign he crossed safely, that he was good, better than good, free!
I hung up the phone so Janet could call mom. Toast pops from toaster. Eyes gathering tears. Tears tripping down cheeks. I pull a small plate from the cupboard. A tiny red stain on a white plate. I try and scrub it off. Not budging. I grab my glasses. A tiny smudge of a red cardinal on a sliver of a silver birch tree.
Dad. Dad. Dad.