The exercise:
We had dinner with my sister and her partner tonight (they're in town for a visit from Boston) and it was quite delicious. Particularly the chocolate dessert Kat and I shared. Yum.
I haven't seen Nicky in quite a while and Kat and Cris hadn't met before and it turned out to be a very pleasant evening - despite Nicky not feeling too well and Cris having his laptop and passport stolen today. I hate people some times.
I wish we could see Nicky and Cris more often though. I will convince them to move out here eventually.
Anyway, the prompt for today shall be: the miles between us.
Mine:
If I was a fisherman
I'd cast out my shining line,
I'd catch your coast
And reel it much closer to mine.
If I was an architect
I'd build a road so long,
You'd live on my street
Just where you belong.
But I am just a writer
So all that I can do,
Is write a little poem
To share my thoughts with you.
The little red light flashes on my mobile, indicating a voice message. I sigh. I didn’t hear it ring. “Damn thing never seems to work,” I mutter, as I stab the numbers to retrieve the message.
ReplyDeleteThe annoyingly pompous automated voice tells me I have one new message. I punch two to retrieve it and wait for what I’m sure is some jerk trying to sell me something.
And I hear my father’s familiar laugh. “Hey favourite daughter!” He chuckles into the phone. We have a long-running gag between us. He calls me his Favourite Daughter and I call him my Favourite Dad. The joke being, of course, that I’m the only daughter.
He uses the typical Northern Ontario dialect, a haphazard mix of French and English. “Je suis à la ferme et je jouais avec mon phone. Ton numéro a monté et j'ai juste voulu entendre ta voix. OK. I’ll let you go. Talk to you later. Love you! Bye.”
Clearly, Dad was playing with his new cell phone and accidentally called me. And rather than hang up (he’s far too polite to do that) he left me a message. I could tell that he hadn’t meant to call and was having a good laugh at himself. No one laughs harder at Dad than Dad.
My eyes fill with tears. My parents live a five-hour drive away, and with our respective schedules, I don’t get to see them as often as I like. Hearing my Dad’s voice suddenly made the misery of the past few weeks much more bearable.
I replay the message, whisper “I love you too” and gently press seven to save.
Heh, you're hardly just a writer, Marc :) That's a very sweet poem.
ReplyDeleteThe miles between us
I remember when we used to talk,
Words that lasted days and weeks,
I remember when we used to walk,
Amongst the evergreen pines and peaks,
Now there's miles between us,
I am here and you are there,
I am kicking up a fuss,
You are claiming you don't care.
I remember when we used to fight,
You'd sulk and hide your smiles,
I remember we'd make up every night,
But between us now are miles.
Crazy Mo - that was excellent. If that wasn't non-fiction I'll be even more impressed. :)
ReplyDeleteEither way, it's an extremely lovely piece - very touching.
Greg - for a reason I can't quite pin down, I particularly liked 'You'd sulk and hide your smiles' - just a well expressed idea I suppose.
I'm a little embarrassed to admit that it's true. Dad left the message on Tuesday. As pathetic as it sounds, I truly am Daddy's Little Girl and I miss my parents dearly. I'm looking forward to seeing them next weekend for a family reunion to celebrate my grandmother's 99th birthday.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely nothing to be embarrassed about - it's a lovely moment and I'm glad you shared it here :)
ReplyDeleteI hope the reunion and birthday celebrations go smoothly.