Moments

Early morning, stillness weaves a cloak, memories embracing her, comforting her, easing her loneliness. The echo of children from a past time, a time of laughter, love and happy tiredness. Moments she once wished away craving for a moments peace. A husband who only gave her moments spent in fear.  The time that was once too short and not enough was now in abundance, now too many lonely moments.   Tara’s mind returned to years past, flashes of moments, parties, Christmases, dinners ate together, tears shed, late night talks, cups of tea that promised to solve the world’s problems. In that moment she could hear the children’s laughter, the voices of people who had pasted, and in that moment she could feel their presents in that room.  A voice could still be heard when Tara allowed now entered her thoughts, moments of sadness, hurt, regret, what ifs and if only, these thoughts ran like a wild animal chasing its next meal around Tara’s head, and like the meal the wild animal chased Tara could felt fear in that moment. Her heart quicken, panic entered every cell in her body. Closing her eyes Tara now left those thoughts, pushing them away and replacing them with better moments, better voices of better people, people who had loved her, people whose gift or photo now proudly placed on a dresser that some would consider to be cluttered.

Life is made of moments, fleeting moments. Tara thought of how many she had rushed, how many she had not savoured, how many wasted moments carelessly given away to what did not matter or did not deserve a moment from her life. Regret would only waste more moments, all lessons, all part of this moment now. Thankful for this gift given to her by age, a gift not everyone receives Tara smiled, slowly got up from her chair and walked towards the small faded mirror that hung on her kitchen wall. A mirror that had belonged to her mother. She thought of how her mother once had looked in this mirror and seen herself in as a young girl, golden brown hair, bright blue eyes, and the flush of youth that once blushed her cheeks. As a young women fixing her make-up, pinning back her hair, pouting her lips while applying lipstick.  As a middle aged women checking that no grey hair showed, examining the lines that now had begun to appear, rubbing creams and applying make-up in an effort to turn back time, a mirror that her mother eventually looked in with acceptance as she befriended age. Tara’s neighbour offered to replace the old mirror with a nice new one, one that would match the décor of the room, remarking how cluttered the house was with old stuff.

 Tara looked into the old mirror now, long silky golden brown hair that once was hers now gone, in its place  brittle white grey hair that refused to do anything but stick out. Tara put her hand to her head and tried to smooth it down, she smiled and thought of how silly her hair looked. Hearing her mother’s voice say “You have to be able to laugh at yourself sometimes” Tara thought in that moment of how we are all given a body to carry us through life, it changes, it ages and as the beauty of youth leaves another beauty replaces it. The beauty with-in and like the “clutter” that sits on the dresser it carried memories, valuable only to a few. Tara thought of a saying she had once heard that seemed to fit the moment “Not all who have eyes can see”.  Like the clutter on her dresser she no longer fit with the décor of life. The décor of hurry, rush and fast. No longer able nor had a desire to hurry moments in life. An irritation to those who could not see, she was now in the way of the new.

Turning to towards the kitchen window now Tara leaned some of her weight on the kitchen sink it eased the pain that came and went in her hip, filling the kettle now Tara glanced out at the once loved garden. Overgrown weeds that grew up unpainted fences, cobwebs covered the old shed and a rotting dog kennel that once housed many much loved family pets. Tara’s son said he would call in one day, when he got time. He said he would cut the grass and weed the garden, paint the fences and get rid of the rotting dog kennel. When he had time. For now Tara tried to look at her garden with only the memories she had of it when it was once loved, once a place filled with children’s laughter, a place where once a man who had shown her so much love and kindness a partner of many years had spent time pottering.  In the shed, growing tomatoes, lettuce and anything else that would grow in that small garden. In her memory she could see her son on the swing they had bought when they moved into the house. A promise was made to him in an effort to ease the pain of leaving the familiar, the up-set of moving home and away from his friends.  He was five years old and the promise of a swing in the back garden seemed to lessen his tears. Tara could see him in her memories now, five years old, white blonde hair, chubby little hands that held on tight as his young mother pushed him gently on the swing. With each push Tara would sing to him, “you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey, and you will never know dear how much I love you, so please never take my sunshine away. He would giggle and laugh as she would pretend that the swing hit her on her bottom as she walk slightly in front him, his little feet barely touching her as she would pretend to run away. In that moment Tara felt once more the contentment she once had felt on a summers evening folding freshly washed and dried washing from the clothes line, her son sitting on his swing as they chatted. Those summers long gone and the two little boys who had once spend time laughing and chatting on that swing had now grown into men. Moments, treasured moments.

Today with all the technology made to help save time and no-one seems to have a minute, Tara smiled and sat back in her chair, she smiled to herself and as she closed her eyes to rest she thought of how she would not change a single moment of her life.