It's time for our last challenge of 2019 - the subject as above is FOOTPRINTS
Here is my contribution:
Sitting on the bench Albert
watched the horizon. His rheumy eyes
sometimes found it difficult to focus further out or even in, these days. The glasses helped; he was amazed that they
turned dark at the least sign of bright sunshine. The things they could do these days, he knew
there was a name for it trans something – oh no, that was something else – yes,
photogenic. No, that wasn't right
either. Shaking his head, he relaxed his
mind, maybe the word he was searching for would come to him in time. Time was something he had a lot of these
days, although maybe not as much as he wanted.
Sitting on the memorial bench
dedicated in memory of his lovely wife, Eileen, his mind opened like a trailer
for a film. Snapshots of his life, their
life together and now this third transition, his life on his own.
Did he leave enough of a mark for
generations to come to remember him? He
didn’t live through a war. He didn’t
invent a life-saving medical drug. He
didn’t make lots of money, although he earned a decent enough living throughout
his life by working hard and diligently.
His family didn’t go without, they didn’t live in the lap of luxury but
they were happy. He didn’t write a book,
direct a film or become a big film star.
He didn’t paint, sculpt or do anything artistic.
What he did do was love his life,
his family and help anybody whenever he could.
He was lucky to be surrounded by family when so many families became
scattered, dysfunctional or just too busy.
The seagulls squawked their
raucous calls, as he looked up at them whirling around in the blue sky above he
gave thanks to – well he wasn’t sure who he could give thanks to or even if
there was someone/something out there but that was another thought for another
day and another time, probably with the help of a glass of whisky or two. He
laughed quietly to himself, he did enjoy a tipple of an evening.
Oh yes, photochromatic, that’s
what his spectacles had – they changed into sunglasses all by themselves. Amazing.
He heard the clock tower strike
eleven, she was late again but then when was she ever early? That would be her legacy in life, always
rushing but never on time rather like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland –
“I’m late, I’m late! For a very important date!” She had a heart of gold but time-keeping
wasn't in her make-up.
Albert looked
out over his favourite scene. There he
was. His precious godson or as he liked
to think of him, his precious grandson.
Not by blood, not by birth but by bonding. This little boy was the light of his life
and he was so grateful Harry and Louise had come in to his life when they
had. They had enveloped him in their
love, in their family and made his days not as lonely any more.
That
was their legacy, their footprint in time.
They might not aspire or achieve great or notable things in the world
but they would pass on their kindness, love, fortitude, morals and downright
human decency. Albert nodded to himself,
you didn’t have to be famous, have your name known by all and sundry, so long
as those people who were in your life let you love them and they loved you in
return.
Harry
was making his bid for freedom. Look at
him go. Those sturdy little legs
carrying him far away (always in sight of his mother though) – he was full of
life and Albert hoped that would never fade.
The sky
met the sea, the sea met the shingle and Harry’s footprints left a faint mark
which would be washed away by the later tide, borne who knows where, perhaps to
lands far away, perhaps to the depths of the earth. Albert waved at Louise who beamed back at
him, beckoning him to join them on the beach for a cuppa. She’d also have something delicious to treat
him with, perhaps a chocolate muffin if he was lucky.
Yes, he did feel lucky. So lucky. He watched Harry gaze in wonder at
the vista beyond his young eyes. Albert
gazed also in wonder at the scene as he slowly, stiffly, rose from the bench,
blowing a kiss to his love as he moved forward with his life.
FOOTPRINTS
Generations
come and go
Leaving
footprints in the snow
In the sand
Through the
land
Legacies that
live on through others
The sisters and
mothers
The fathers and
brothers
Nephews and
nieces
Cousins and
sundries
Assorted,
blended families
Lay behind love
and loyalty
Hidden depths
take pride of place
As people move
in and out of the human race
Bigotry passes
No more classes
A Utopian dream
Perhaps never
seen
Maybe won’t
ever exist
Word count: 817
