© irene waters 2015
Jake grabbed her. He’d been waiting a long time to hold her in his arms and he wasn’t letting go now. They both rang in sick and spent the next week lost in a haze of love.
“I wish I wasn’t going home.”
“So do I Jake. Do you have to go?”
“Yes. Each visit everything seems smaller. First the house shrank and now my Father is shrinking. He was large, a real presence. Now, he’s bent over, tiny. I have to go, just in case. I wish you could come with me Mel. You will wait for me?”
In response to Charli’s prompt where she asks
September 30, 2015 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a return to home. What does it mean to return? Is it to reconnect, discover or let go? It can be a town, house, farm, castle or ruins. It can be a country or family, one of origin or one adopted. What does the return impart?
Respond by October 6, 2015 to be included in the weekly compilation.Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
Going home carries a great weight. We have huge expectations based on memories that may be exaggerated or porous, and what we see is not what we want. At least Jake and Mel have each other to wait for, someone to tether them to the present. Nicely written, Irene, a bit of nostalgia for me.
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I’m glad to prompt your memories Sharon. You are right – going home holds so much. I think some of our memories are because when we lived there as children every thing was bigger than us and was such a large part of our lives that it became large in our minds. When we go home we are bigger with a much larger world in our head and home seems so much smaller.
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Such a keen perspective expressed in this flash, the idea of home and parents “shrinking.” A good comparison to a blossoming love relationship.
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Going home is such an important trip, especially when you live a long way from it. Strange when it seems to be so much smaller than your memory of it. Possibly because the love has taken over part of your psyche and that is now what is large.
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This: “Each visit everything seems smaller.” So true.
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It certainly is.
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Great flash, Irene. I too agree with things being smaller than we remember. I lived on a farm until I was 6. I thought it was enormous. When I went back for a look as a teenager it was only a small holding.
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I think it is because we are small and our world experience is small so therefore things that are in our world take on immense proportions both because they are all we know and they are the centre of our universe.
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That sounds like wisdom in action.
I’ve been thinking about you this week. Have you been away or have I just not gotten to your posts? It’s nice to see you, whichever way it goes. 🙂
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Thanks Norah and thank you for missing me. You have no idea how much that means to me. 🙂
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It is nice to have you back. 🙂
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Thank you Norah. Good to be back. 🙂
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Luckily, I told my dad to stop aging, so I won’t have to run across this problem.
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LOL. I hope he could oblige. If so you are set to make a fortune as you patent the secret.
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‘Lost in a haze of love…’ Love that. And love the way you illustrate the concept of shrinking. I always found that when I came home to England when I lived in CA for so long, but that was because everything here is smaller! But I get that about how life ‘shrinks’ and nothing stays the same. Nothing. Great flash my friend 🙂 ❤
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I think as our world view expands our world shrinks. When all we had was home and mum and dad they were bigger than Ben Hur. They were our world and huge. Now our world is so big we see how tiny it really was.
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Very salutory point Irene…
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Well done. In so few words such deep emotion!
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Thank you Roger.
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