March 20, 2014 – Lovely County Citizen – Page
The Village Writing School Prepare to recognize the tumble of emotions described by Carmen Caldwell in this touching piece about the stages of our journey.
M
Migration
argaret heard the familiar honk of geese coming from way above her. Running towards open sky and looking up, she saw her first “V” of the season, large and undulating. It was actually several V’s that flowed together, a living organism of individual birds choosing to fly in unison for a common good. She marveled at their faith, at their trust, that this journey through air would take them to a better place. Of course, she knew that geese are wild and ruled by instinct, by their natures. They were being true to their need to migrate, to their gooseness. They trusted that the currents of air would lift them up and carry them. As she watched, Margaret noticed that each goose cooperated by positioning itself, wing to wing, to take advantage of the elements and insure an efficient voyage. She felt blessed to witness their symmetry and seemingly effortless purpose as a functioning, moving community. Yet, she also felt fearful for them, thinking about their vulnerability and fragility and all the dangers they might encounter, both natural and manmade. Finally, the geese formation was just a speck in the distant sky and she lowered her gaze to stand of dogwoods she had been photographing. Their leaves were salmon pink to purplish red and several shades in-between. She knew it was folly, trying to capture the fleeting beauty of fall’s colors. As if fall would never come again. As if she wouldn’t be here to experience next year’s colorful show. She put the iPhone in her vest pocket and rolled her shoulders back. Then she made figure eights with her neck, letting her chin lead her head. She wanted to shake the melancholy that had settled in her throat after talking to Mom. Every time they broached the subject of assisted living, Margaret felt weighted down by the enormity of the change. Mom could still drive; she could still reason and remember to take her dozen or
so medications. But she had slowed down considerably in the past six months. The circulation in her legs was impaired, leaving her less and less mobile. Mom didn’t want to leave her home of 51 years any more than Margaret felt ready to lose her childhood home. Plus every drawer, closet, shelf, and cabinet of the 3-bedroom house would have to be emptied. On her last visit, Margaret had been unable to convince her mother that they should start tackling that task together. Margaret blamed Antiques Road Show. Her mother was convinced that if her careless children got rid of the Encyclopedia Britannica – with all of the Year Books from 1970 to 1978 –they would later discover that it was worth thousands of dollars. Besides, her mother and father had spent a lot of money on the heavy, hardbound volumes, the stateof-the art storehouse of knowledge in the dark ages before the Internet. Margaret had no better luck when she opened one of the kitchen cabinets and found a Tupperware Jell-O mold—the kind with snap-off lids that left shapes—a heart, a shamrock—in the squishy, artificially-flavored symbol of seventies domesticity. She suggested tossing it, declaring, probably too loudly, “Trust me. You will never make Jell-O again!” Her mother had taken the white plastic bowl from Margaret’s hand as if it were solid gold and put it back in the dark recesses of the cabinet. In their ongoing war for control, the kitchen was Mom’s territory and she was not ready to surrender. Margaret shuddered at the memory. It was a land mine of memories, that house. The past waited quietly to be uncovered like an archeological dig into their history as a family. The laughter, the parties, the very real love had never completely defeated the sudden loss of her father. And now she was facing her mother’s inevitable decline and exit. Another blast of honking captured her attention and brought her down into her
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To support our local writers, the Lovely County Citizen is providing space each week to showcase a student of The Village Writing School. For more information, email alisontaylorbrown@me.com or call (479) 292-3665
This Week’s Writer Carmen Caldwell
body even as it lifted her eyes to the clear October sky. The tightness in her throat softened as she witnessed the beauty of the winged creatures above her. And she realized that the geese knew no fear. The journey was part of who they were. To stay grounded, stuck in place, to not take flight would be to deny their identity, their gooseness. Margaret lifted her arms and made a silent affirmation. When I trust as strongly as the geese that form V’s in the sky and surrender as completely as the leaves that fall to the ground, I will be free.
Carmen Caldwell has been writing a journal since 6th grade--only then it was called a diary! Many, many years later, she’s still at it. She and husband, Robert, arrived in Eureka Springs 10 years ago seeking natural beauty and a gentler way to make a living. Owning and operating the Tall Pines Inn doesn’t always feel gentle, but at least they’re no longer stressed out on the freeways in Dallas.
All Creative Writing Workshops at theVillage Writing School will be
FREE
to High School Students in 2014 Fantasy Stories Welcome!!