Good morning and a Happy Friday to you all! All’s well with the H household, we are all a little bit excited as we get ready for a lovely weekend in the big smoke. I will be the proud Godmother tomorrow as my Godson Evan makes his Holy Communion. Then tomorrow night I will be the proud Sister In Law, as en famille the Harringtons are off out on the town with Evelyn to celebrate her 25 year anniversary with the Joint Arab Irish Chamber of Commerce. She’s pretty cool my sister in law. And just to round off the weekend nicely, all the H’s are spending Sunday with my bestie Annie, which will involve the menfolk running around after the smallies while Annie and I lock ourselves in her kitchen and talk like we haven’t spoken in a hundred years.
I adore Wexford, so grateful that we got the opportunity to move home a few years ago, but I miss Dublin, so weekends like this are golden! I hope all of you have lovely plans too and that the sun shines for us all!
Before I head away for the weekend I have one more piece of flash fiction to share with you.
When I read this I felt it could actually be an anthem for Mothers. It’s beautifully written and touched me. Keep tweeting about #imaginewriteinspire and give the lovely emerging writers lots of recognition for a job extremely well done.
Entries still accepted until midnight 31st May and if you want to play catch up on all the entries to date, plus have a look at the competition rules, then click here:-
http://carmelharrington.com/category/2013-imagine-write-inspire-flash-fiction-competition/
Silent Night by Caítríona Redmond
My eyes open wide, every cell in my body is tensed, listening for the sound of you breathing, my eyes on the monitor, watching the light pulse inches away from my face, indicating that you are still here, beside me, alive. The bedroom is dark, but not black, illuminated from the moon which hangs low in the sky. I’d guess it is about 2am but I don’t want to move to check the time and risk waking you, so I luxuriate in the peacefulness of the moment.
I wonder why I woke, I’m so tired, you sap all I have to give and how can I give it so willingly but resent myself for what I do? I yearn for my old self, free from the shackles you have presented me, unchained to your every need. What about my needs, my wants, my desires? I want to rest, forget my responsibilities for a brief moment, so I close my eyes again and will myself to dream of golden sunlight on a dappled swimming pool and the water caressing my aching muscles.
The light from the monitor permeates beyond my eyelids and the regular flash lulls me into a sense of security. I hear a rustle from the end of the bed and begin to force myself to rouse, to tend to you. With the flick of a switch the light illuminates your face, you’re not quite awake yet, but you will be, and I pause for a moment to appreciate the perfection. Pale chubby cheeks, blush lips, long eyelashes and a gentle rise and fall of your chest. Beautiful long fingers end in pink fingernails.
I bow to lift you, genuflecting before the master of my present being. Gather you up onto my shoulder and you nuzzle into my neck, snuffling. I drink the scent of you, feel the well of emotion inside of me, and blink back the tears brought on by the powerful emotions swirling around, sucking me into the memories.
“Home”, I murmur.
Turning the monitor off I settle against the pillows, making a hollow for me and you. Together again, whole yet separate. I cast my mind back to last week. A blur of colours and noises flash into my mind. Porcelain skin, glowing red lights, sirens, beeping, rasping.
I shake my head.
“Home”, I murmur again as if to pull myself back to the here and now.
“Home”, once more as I resolve to hold you a little closer, tighter. This time may pass but I’ll never forget. You’re here, home, where you belong, son.
Being made redundant the day she returned from maternity leave heralded a personal transformation from “high-flying” personal assistant at the top of her game, to becoming a reluctant stay at home mother. As the prospects of finding another suitable job dried up, Caítríona turned to using the skills that she already had from being a PA and those she had learned at her grandmother’s and mother’s kitchen tables to run the household on a tight grocery budget which can be as little as €90 per week for a family of 5.
All of which is logged on her website, http://wholesomeireland.com
The “wholesome” ideology doesn’t stop at the blog or budgeting for her family though as Caítríona is also heavily involved in volunteering in the community.
Caítríona’s first cookbook will be published in Spring 2014.
Really lovely piece, Caitriona.
Gorgeous piece, really resonated