Live Your Life
She sat on the busbench. She wasn’t going anywhere. Grandma just liked watching the people come and…
She sat on the bus bench. She wasn’t going anywhere. Grandma just liked watching the people come and go. Talking to the young crowd, handing out cookies she had baked the night before. It didn’t take long at all before this bus stop was a popular place to look forward to.
There is such a big generation gap between the young and old. Values are different, a faster paced world is what we live in today. So it is no wonder that the few minutes while waiting for their bus to arrive, it was a breath of fresh air to have someone to chat with who seemed to care.
I can see my own self in this picture I painted. I could be the grandma on the bench. Handing out cookies to the people. Getting old is not really that golden era we hear about. It may be if you still have your long-standing mate by your side, I guess.
But when fate comes and wipes half your slate a way, you suddenly realize it is quiet when you get up and it is hushed when you lay your head down at night. Silence is golden when you live a hectic life, or raising the busy family, but what happens when the kids grow up and move out?
Who is going to fill that void? I will probably be one of those bell ringers at Christmas time just so I can show others that there are still smiles in the world. Maybe I will be the Wal-Mart greeter lady.
I can sit on my stool and make sure to welcome you in to the store, but what I am actually trying to show you is that age is only a number. We are born with one heart, a set of feelings, and we each feel in the same way.
We want joy and happiness. We want to feel we belong some where in this world. It just makes life nicer. An added touch when you are running late for work. Or your spouse and you had a disagreement on the way out the door this morning.
Yes, I will always be trying to show the younger generation that life is still good. They need it more now than ever as families split and people become more engrossed in themselves.
What do you envision doing when you get in your prime of life? Retired sitting on the beach some where? Raising maybe your grandchildren? Will you be taking care of a family member? Or will you still be reaching out to others in any way you can, even if it means sitting at the bus bench handing out cookies, to people you know.
Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate.
If I could invent a holiday, I would invent one where everyone would benefit. It would be called Be Kind At Home Day. The reason behind this is to help bring families back together again, if for only to show them, what family is all about.
This would be a day when no one would be allowed to walk outside past their property, nor drive to anywhere. You would have to be with your immediate family.
The home would be filled with laughter, and a special time for coming together with problems or discussions, based on the goal that this would draw the family together once again. Children as well as parents would be allowed to participate in the conversation.
The house work would be laid to rest for this one day, except for tidying up, and the aromas that would fill the rooms would be filled from baking together just one recipe. A number of games would be placed on the table, and all would vote on the one that would be played together for one hour.
At meal times, no one would be allowed to escape sitting together as a family, and the meal would be enjoyed by all and plenty of lighthearted conversation. There would also be one hour where each person, excluding small children,(they would be napping) would spend time entirely alone, going into thought about their own goals in their lives, and checking to see if they were heading in the right direction.
The day would be entirely filled up, and by the end of the day, the family would once again know each other, and become closer. Hopefully, some of what was learned or re-learned would be carried into the following weeks and months.
Family is so important. I feel that if you do not have family, you have nothing. I know this is something that has been let slip by the side of the road, with busy schedules, divorces, and work, but we must work very hard these days to keep the communication line open. What is it we call it at work? The open door policy. Let us practice this in our own homes as well.
I was different. I knew I was. Never being accepted for who I was or what I represented. Most of my childhood had been words of can’t you be more like your sibling? Why don’t you want to do what I say? These words were still instilled to me today, dripping from my soul, like maple syrup from a tree.
One day I reached the age of maturity, or the level of being able to legally make my own decisions. I decided against the world. I chose the road less traveled.
I packed my backpack and my gear bag, and leaving a note behind for them, telling them I had to leave, but I loved them, don’t blame yourselves, I am who I am and I have to be me, I left, never looking back.
My shadow followed me to nowhere, and everywhere. I stopped along the roadsides, and took out my blank papers and sketched what my eyes drank in from this earth.
I slept under the stars, with golden eyes watching over me. I wandered from town to city, I sat on the curbs or the street benches, and I sketched. People drawing near to see the finished product, some dropping change and green into my bag. Others asking if I could sketch their faces for their loved ones.
All of this brought me money to continue my journey. A view from an artist’s eyes put down on paper. I traveled through small ghost towns, and also top name cities. Each place I stopped brought me opportunities to learn different faces, to chat for a time, to share a meal with another soul.
Once when I had stopped for a few days in a city named Los Angelas, a person hiding in the shadows was watching my hands at work. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, but there was no fear showing in my face.
People came and went, the money was filling my bag, and then a one hundred-dollar bill was dropped into my lap. I gasped and looked up, straight into the eyes of the stranger who had been hiding, but was now out of the shadows.
He spoke in a calm voice, letting me know that he liked my work, telling me that I had a special talent. He wanted to pay for a sitting, and was this enough for her fee. She went to work immediately, folding over the page she had been working on, and getting a clean page to start sketching.
He sat very still not moving his mouth, and she ran her mind down his silhouette, lingering over his broad jaw bone and those full lips, that curved into smiles. She began to ponder on what it would be like to make love to his neck that was strong and the broad shoulders that trickled with muscular designs.
She sensed that he could feel the heat escaping from her body as desires began to take over, so moving to the side of him, leaving more space between the two, she finished her sketch and showed him her finished product.
He stared at the page intently, taking in her lines and shadows that portrayed himself, and he looked at her and there was a smile of approval. He got ready to leave and thanked her for her work, and walked away, but turning back once to ask if he could take her to lunch, as he was hungry, and he was sure she would be too.
She picked up her supplies and placed them in her bag, and followed him to a small cafe, where they both ordered sandwiches and a brew. Not much speaking was done over eating, but looks showed their hunger for each other. Heat began to fill the booth, and the room became empty of all others sitting near by. It was the two of them alone in the world, yearning, wanting and needing each other.
After paying the bill the two walked out the back door and he threw her up against the brick wall of the building and lifting her shirt up he kissed her. Ripples formed and a domino affect traveled through out her body. She touched him and a force so strong burst out of her body, that she clung to him and raked nails down the back of his shirt.
He lowered her body until they met exactly where two thirsty bodies united as one. Sweat pouring from each skin, as they let their lust escape into each other. He covered her mouth as a scream of delight tried to escape her sweet lips and soon they were both standing on firm ground and feelings had gained their reward.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and lit one for himself and offered her one also, but she refused. Breathing was back to normal, urges had been replaced by calmness.
They promised to keep in touch, and she told him she would be moving on tomorrow, and he agreed to see her once more before she left town. They departed, going back to the road less traveled, and the next day after making a few dollars, she packed her things up and moved on once again.
A few years had passed and the roads that were traveled had crossed. He married and had two children, and in one city the family was visiting, they entered an art gallery, and there in the center stage, showing the center fold of her work, was the artist he had met on the street years ago, and he smiled to himself, as he thought about how he was right, that this girl had talent, and had found her place in this world.
Thank you Kellie for another chance to write for you!