Christine Hassing

My dear readers,

Shortly you will read the final page of The Creases Now Speak.

Thank YOU for sharing the journey with me as this story unfolded for both you and for myself.

I didn’t start out with a plan to write The Creases Now Speak.

I had never really written fiction. One day in a writing class, inspired by my amazing writing teacher to dabble with fiction, Edward found his way to paper.  Encouraged by my teacher and equally amazing classmates, I believe it was Patricia that found her way to paper next. Before I knew it, Linh was finding her way to paper as well as Joshua. Funny thing was, Mỹ wasn’t ready to share her story yet, at least not ahead of other characters.

Being a dutiful student, I took to heart my writing teacher’s words Keep going. Keep playing. Being one to listen with my soul, I internalized her words knowing them to be true when she said you aren’t finding these characters; they are finding you.

Just as you didn’t know how the story would end, neither did I. I didn’t have an outline for the overall story. I simply kept writing. Or perhaps I should say channeling their voices.

You’ve heard me “say” often, the dance of grace between opposites. And a most beautiful dance it is as we navigate the “and,” that place in which we honor, hold with grace, and find joy in both the tug and pull that IS what makes life so incredibly magical and exquisite. A beautiful work of art! (smile)

If you’ve read other blogs posts, you already know about me striving to rescue birds after they hit our picture windows. As I prepared to write this special blog, this dear feathered friend had flown its last flight.  As I held this little one in my hand to offer it gratitude for its songs it had sang and bid it Namaste as I prepared to set it in a tree, I had a hummingbird buzz a flower near us. In my hand I held the symbolism of life’s sorrow and next to me the hummingbird’s symbolism was of life’s joy.

In the middle, where I stood in the “and” was my heart beating. In. Out. In. Out. As all of life is designed to give, I was offered choice. I could focus on sorrow, or I could focus on joy. I chose and.

To honor the sadness by expanding within myself gratitude, appreciation, and love. The Rose of Sharon in bloom became that much more beautiful because I learned yet again how precious and fragile life is, and because of that, I want to experience and embrace every moment I can with joy.

To make everything around me beautiful. This will be my life.

And.

Love does endure above all else. 

Dear readers. In the “and” as we dance in grace with tugs and pulls, is a place of stillness in which we listen and wait for what calls “this way” next. Blueprints for Hope called, then The Creases Now Speak found me. Now I stand in stillness and listen for what calls next as I also hold immense gratitude for how you have been a reader of what I’ve shared. THANK YOU!

I am not sure when another email notification will reach your inbox. It may be sooner or later. The Stillness knows and will whisper when it is time for the next message(s) to find me for what is meant for you.

As you dance that dance of grace, oh, please, please, please, please, my wish is. May it be a most beautiful dance for you!

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Postscript

Laura and Abby had been back in London approximately four weeks when Laura saw her favorite nephew’s email in her inbox. It was titled “Family Status,” the new subject line Joshua used after Edward passed away.

Laura and Abby had stayed in the U.S. for two months after Edward’s passing. Laura found it comforting to spend time with Joshua and Kaylen and stay in the home she grew up in. She also wanted to help Joshua get the house ready to put on the market.

Laura opened the email and read the opening sentence.

Hi Aunt L. Hi Aunt A. How are you?

So, hey, Kaylen and I were wondering. Will you still consider me your favorite nephew even after your great-nephew is born?

Kaylen and I are going to be parents! We plan to name him Maxwell Edward.

Me, a dad! I thought my life was perfect with Kaylen until she helped me understand the blue line I was seeing on a stick! Is it possible to have perfection become more perfect?!

I wish you had found great Aunt Lorraine was still living, but I’m glad you found closure. I hope she was happy during her seventy-six years of life. Her obituary mentioned Uncle Donny and grandpa. That was nice to see. Clever and sweet wording. “Blessed to be sister to two brothers.”   I also liked reading that she was “survived by the love of her life, Joni.”  It is true, isn’t it? How love endures above all else.

Well, gotta run Aunt L.

Love ya. Love to Abby.

Your favorite nephew,

J

Your favorite niece K

And your soon to be most favorite nephew of all, M.

Hello dear readers,

As we walk up the steps to the doorway of August, I am embracing the message from this dear hoppity friend, the rabbit.

For a few weeks now, this little cotton tail friend has been just that for me. A messenger to be still, no need to be in haste, and trust and have faith, despite whatever external commotion is taking place. Even when two “beastly” creatures are running rapidly past this little friend, each “beast” with a nose that, if they chose to make full use of, could stop them in their tracks and lead them back to where this little one remains still.

After observing my new friend not hop away in haste, I became certain there was communication taking place between the girls and my rabbit friend lovingly conspiring to bring me the message I was in most need of remembering. No need for haste. Trust and have faith.

I think of the phrase peace in the chaos. Whether that chaos feels like it is coming at us externally or from within in how we are responding to what life is bringing, there is this place we all have innately in us to be still and trust all is and will be well.

And, if we decide it best we move on from the place we are standing in at the moment, we can always hop away. (smile)

I will close with a quote from Julian of Norwich. All shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Edward

It was three weeks after Edward met Abby and Kaylen when he decided he felt well enough to join the other residents for lunch. Edward had been eating in his room if he ate at all. His appetite was decreasing in proportion to his sleep increasing.

Edward had walked from his room to the dining hall, his oxygen canister in tow, for now Edward used oxygen to assist him with more comfortable breathing. After all the stimulation from people chatting and the clanking silverware against the plates, Edward felt a wave of exhaustion and decided it was best to have assistance back to his room.

As Maggie, the CNA, was wheeling Edward through the sitting room just outside the dining hall, Edward heard a kindly voice say “Hello Mỹ. How are you today?”  

Edward immediately asked Maggie to stop and when he turned, he saw a casually dressed strikingly beautiful Vietnamese woman kneeling before an elderly Vietnamese woman in a wheelchair.

When Edward asked Maggie if she knew who the two women were, Maggie explained Mỹ was a resident, and the woman kneeling was her daughter Bian. Mỹ had dementia, and some days she knew Bian. Other days she did not. Bian sensed when her mom didn’t recognize her; on those days she called her mom by name.

Edward asked Maggie to wheel him closer and when he felt he wasn’t intruding, he spoke. “Excuse me ma’am. Hello, my name is Edward.” 

Bian looked up, smiled, and then stood as she extended her hand. “Hello Edward. I’m Bian. This is my mother Mỹ. Mỹ, can you say hello to Edward?”

When Mỹ, looked up, Edward recognized those deep brown eyes that reminded him of skipping stones in the creek behind his house where he grew up. Edward wasn’t sure any of them could hear him when he said “Mỹ! I can’t believe…after all these years!”   He wasn’t even sure he had said the words out loud. Disbelief was the overarching sensation he felt in his weary body.

With an expressionless face, Mỹ looked into Edward’s eyes before a smile erupted, and she slowly said drawing out the letters in his name. “Eeedddwwwaarrrddd.”   

Bian spoke. “Mom, you know this man?”

Mỹ nodded her head but said nothing else.

Edward started to explain. “I met your mom and your grandma when I was a journalist in Vietnam.”

“You ARE the gentleman in the picture! The one who Grandma Linh wanted to bring mom to the United States, to live with Uncle Haim.” 

Edward nodded. “Yes, that is me.”

“Mom told me she wrote you a letter that went against Grandma Linh’s wishes.”

“I still have the letter your mom wrote.”

“You do?”

“My grandson only recently translated it for me. I carried it in my wallet for fifty-two years not knowing what it said. It was my reminder.”

“Reminder of what?”

“My guilt and shame I didn’t bring your mom to the U.S.”

“Mom wasn’t going to go with you, even if you had asked her to go. That was mom’s disobedience to Grandma Linh’s wishes. Grandma wanted her to leave Vietnam and told mom to write requesting you take her with you. Mom told me she couldn’t write it that way. She knew she needed to stay with Grandma.”

Edward was quiet for a few moments, trying to process Bian’s words. Mom wasn’t going to go with you.

“You are Mỹ’s daughter. Did she have other children? Is she a grandma?”

“I have two brothers. Both still live in Vietnam. Both are married, with five children between them. My husband and I have two children.”

“When did you and your mom come to the U.S.?”  

“I came when I was eighteen. Mom only a few months ago. When her dementia started getting worse.”

“Has your mom had a good life?”  

Bian paused, thinking about her mom’s rape just after Edward left Vietnam. About the choice her mom made from the center of her heart to stay with Grandma Linh. Bian thought about her father, not her biological one but the man who adopted her as his own from the moment she was born and loved her as his daughter until the day he died. How he provided for his family and worked hard so that Bian could go the United States, meet Andrew, get her dream home on the shores of Lake Michigan. How all that her mom taught her about choosing well enabled her to be a receptive student to how beautiful life is, even when or especially because of things like cancer that interrupt and sometimes take a child’s life.

Bian looked at Edward and nodded her head. “Mom chose well every day. She has had a good life.” 

Edward nodded his head, “I’m glad.”   He then looked at Mỹ who was looking off in the distance, physically present but her mind elsewhere. Perhaps in the same dream state Edward found himself in more these days. Edward hoped the characters appearing as her mind said goodbye to each one were bringing her peace, gratefulness, and most of all love.

Edward knew their brief encounter after fifty-two years was bringing him peace, and for that he was grateful.

Edward expressed his pleasure in meeting Bian, wished Mỹ to be well, and let Maggie know he was now ready to go to his room.

Later, as Edward lay in bed, his eyes closed, he could see the glistening water of the creek where he had skipped many a brown stone. His brother Donny was standing on shore. Donny looked at him and waved. Stephanie was wading in the shallows, shrieking with laughter at the cool water against her ankles. Patricia was sitting on a stump, extending her hand to Edward.

He walked to his wife. She smiled, “I’ve been waiting for that soon.” 

Edward and Patricia began walking hand in hand.

Love. Pure, uninhibited in its beautiful flow, enduring about all else.

Hello dear readers,

I am writing to you while immersed in nature, watching cardinals soar from ground to limb and back down for the next bite of lunch. I’m listening to the tranquil sounds of songbirds while also listening to the chuckles and heckles of the crows as they display how they have no fear of heights while they hang- glide over treetops.

Nature. One of my happy places for sure! (smile)

A few months ago, when we had a severe thunder / windstorm move through the southwest corner of our state, the girls (aka Ginger and Kutana) and I discovered this fallen tree as one of the casualties of the fierce winds.  In that dance of grace between opposites I periodically write about, a part of me felt saddened that such a regal giant that had taken decades to grow to its mighty stature found itself uprooted and now sprawled across earth’s floor.

The other part of me remembered a professor’s words to the effect that even when a branch of a tree has fallen to the ground and is decaying, the tree is still alive. His sentiment was that the nutrients from the decaying wood fuel the dirt and surrounding plants, that bugs and small critters can know it as home, that even though the branch has now broken away from the tree, it is still connected to the greater whole.

Still a tree of life.

As I stood beside this now fallen tree, I thought of the bridge it is, as it has always been. When it stood, it branched out in roots and in limbs, bridging air to soil, bridging to other nearby root systems, bridging for a squirrel’s quick run through the branches. As it lays, it will bridge. Soil to new growth, a dry scurrying path for critters when the ground is muddy, doubt to faith that even when a root system has broken from its anchor, the tree is still alive, connected to the greater whole.

May your next couple of weeks flow peacefully for you.

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Joshua

Joshua was surprised when Aunt L texted, she had visited grandpa and introduced him to Abby.

He felt his anxiousness rise while also admiring his aunt’s courage. He couldn’t help thinking it was one thing for his grandpa to accept his aunt’s same sex marriage. Quite another for his grandpa to accept Joshua had married someone black.

Joshua found Kaylen putting the finishing touches on their dinner – spinach salads, grilled salmon fillets, and roasted red potatoes seasoned with rosemary, thyme, garlic, and a touch of Himalayan salt. When Joshua told Kaylen that Aunt Laura introduced Abby and Edward, Kaylen looked up with a combination of curiosity and caution on her face.

“Aunt L said it went quite well, that Grandpa welcomed Abby into the family.” 

“Wow, that’s great!”

“She thinks Grandpa is ready to meet you.”

Kaylen paused in the salad toss without looking up. Then she added in the sunflower seeds, sliced strawberries, and vinaigrette dressing, asking “what do you think?” 

“I would like you and I to go together tomorrow for my weekly visit.”

“Do you think it will be too much for him? Abby today. Me tomorrow.” 

“I think it is time I be brave.”

Joshua studied Kaylen’s face and body language, adding, “I have been a coward. You deserved more from me. I don’t want to miss any more days of Grandpa knowing the best part of my life.”

Joshua continued to observe Kaylen fussing with the salad, not looking up, attentively listening.

When Kaylen spoke, Joshua felt that familiar feeling. Just when he thought he couldn’t love her more, she would give him reason to feel his heart expand even further for the one person who made him feel whole.

“You have been brave since the day we meet and began falling in love. I know you kept me from your grandpa because you believed you were protecting me. That is what people do when they want only the best for each other. I look forward to meeting your grandfather tomorrow.”

The next day, just before 4:00 p.m., Joshua and Kaylen entered the assisted living center. Kaylen offered to wait in the lobby. Joshua hesitated, thinking that might be best, then decided he wanted Kaylen by his side when he greeted his grandpa.

When they got near Edward’s room, Joshua kissed Kaylen, expressed how much he loved her, squeezed her hand, and didn’t let go of it as he pulled her into the room with him.

“Hi Grandpa! How you doing today?”  Joshua said in the best light-hearted voice he could muster through his nervousness.

Edward looked up, saw his grandson and a breathtakingly beautiful Black woman holding his grandson’s hand. An elegant woman with beautiful deep brown eyes. He had only seen eyes like that one other time in his life.

Joshua let go of Kaylen’s hand, placing his on her back as he gently nudged her forward with him towards Edward’s chair. “Grandpa, I have someone I would like you to meet. This is Kaylen. My wife.”

Joshua expected to feel Kaylen tense. He only felt calmness radiate from her poise.  Kaylen took a step ahead of Joshua, extended her hand to Edward. “I am grateful to meet you.” 

Joshua wasn’t sure if Edward’s silence and lack of extending his hand in return was a sign of his anger, his disappointment, or his shock.

It seemed like minutes that Kaylen’s had was extended before Edward tried to push his body up from the chair. Joshua hurried to his side about to insist Edward stay sitting when Edward rose out of the chair.

Edward looked into Kaylen’s face, extended his arms, and pulled her into a hug.

Edward released Kaylen from his bear hug, asking her “how long have you been the reason my grandson has been so happy every time he comes to visit me?”

Joshua sensed Kaylen didn’t want to answer. Later Kaylen would tell him it was because she feared hurting his grandpa when he learned they had kept this secret for nearly five years.

When Joshua answered, he saw Edward’s eyes shift briefly. Was it anger? Joshua wasn’t sure why he kept anticipating anger would erupt. He had never seen his grandpa angry. He had never witnessed his mom nor his grandma angry. Maybe it was in his genes, something his father had struggled with.

Edward sat back down in the chair and urged Kaylen and Joshua to pull up the folding chairs kept in the corner for visitors. Four hours later, Edward had shared one of his photo albums with Kaylen and she in turn had shared she was an OB/GYN, how her and Joshua had met, and that she was able to meet Patricia before her passing.

After the three of them ate the take-out dinner Joshua had picked up, Joshua spoke. “Grandpa, we should be going. We’ve kept you from resting long enough.

With tear-filled eyes, Edward asked Kaylen if she would be coming with Joshua next week. “You can come without my grandson anytime you want” he also told her.

When Joshua bent down to hug his grandpa goodbye, the only thing he could say through his own teary eyes was “thank you Grandpa.”  

“No, my son. Thank you! Thank you for introducing me to your wife. I am glad you found your Patricia. I love you, Joshua.”

“I love you, too, Grandpa!”

When Joshua and Kaylen got to their car, Joshua began sobbing. Through his elation at how well it went was the knowing that his grandpa was soon going to die. In his relief was also sorrow and regret for the past five years that his grandpa and Kaylen didn’t know each other.

Kaylen, his mind-reading wife, reached for Joshua’s hand as she said “things cannot happen before they are meant to. What matters is love has now poured in.”

Joshua looked at his beautiful wife, whispering the words he adapted from her grandma’s song. “Perfect, my wife, perfect you are to me.” 

Dear readers, hello!

As I started to write to you, I found myself pausing with my memories, curious if I can recall my grandparents beginning a conversation after not seeing them for a bit with an exclamation about the passage of time. (smile)  

How did we get to July already! (smile, ha!)

New life is blessing our views lately.

We have a family of turkeys that decided our front and back yards are perfect locations to teach their babes how to scratch the Earth and feast on bugs they forage.

There has been a twin fawn sighting at our pond.

As a momma and her fawn rush across our front yard, I am convinced it is because momma knows there is a certain German Shorthair Pointer living in her neighborhood and said momma does not appreciate said GSP’s curious George heart!

Kutana (GSP) is also our deer whisperer. She will sit at the window or in the yard and watch the deer with such reverence. Later in summer and early Fall, the deer don’t mind her presence. In a language only both species of the natural world understand, they communicate honor and respect for each other’s differences while they also understand their kinship as nature’s children.

In late Spring and early summer when deer mommas have birthed their spotted babies, they draw their boundaries with Kutana! Kutana is so joyfully curious, and she also embodies “let’s play and be friends,” especially to an animal about her height.

Last year we had a fawn grace our yard and in a brief moment’s flash, Kutana, and the fawn booped noses.  Kutana is also one not to forget. Anything! Show her once, and it’s engraved in her mind.

So, when one is joyfully curious, a memory engraver about nose boops, embodies “let’s play, especially if you are my height”, and “I whisper to you, so certainly that means we are buddies”, oh, and also has a nose that is incredibly powerful, it is very hard when her nose leads her to a fawn and momma says “NOT YET” and chases Kutana away.  

Kutana puts on her wisdom hat, stops searching for playmates, and waits for the time she knows will come when she will be able to sit in the yard watching deer graze. When time will have healed fear born from a momma’s diligent protective watch over her new life, and a certain GSP and the deer will whisper to each other again, communicating honor and respect, while they understand their kindship.

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Laura

Laura didn’t expect her father’s tears. She wasn’t sure what she believed would happen seeing her dad after so many years. She certainly didn’t imagine his first words would be “I am so sorry.”   She also didn’t expect to touch him, to let him put his arms around her, to cry with him as they both let the pain start to dissolve, the wall between them crumble.

After what felt like seconds and forever at the same time, Laura went to get Abby so that she could introduce her wife to her dad. Laura bit down on her lip to make sure she was in fact awake when she heard her father welcome Abby to the family and thank Abby for taking such good care of his daughter.

Later, as Laura and Abby were driving home, Laura told her wife she was conflicted between feeling that she shouldn’t have forgiven her dad so quickly and the lightness she now felt no longer in defense of who she is.  And who she loves.

Abby’s response, true to her pure heart nature, was that life is not meant to be lived in should and should nots; that it was about being present with what feels right, now, as the moments take place. Then Abby spoke candidly. “Your dad is dying Laura. Both of you missed out on several years. You only have a few months, or maybe even just a few weeks before you can no longer touch your dad and feel his arms around you. I think it was a good thing you didn’t hold on to your fierce determination that some kind of justice be served. Your mom was right in what she wrote to you, to all of you, to us.

Please let go of the judgment as I have also asked your father to let go of the pain.

It is ok to let the walls crumble now and let love pour in.

“Laura, I didn’t get to say goodbye to my father before he died. For most of my life I’ve never been able to reach out to my father to touch him, to feel his arms around me.”

Laura’s eyes filled with tears. Guilt. Regret. A longing to be able to take that pain away from Abby.

“Sometimes there is no justice to seek Laura. Like when my dad died. The only justice was the choices I would make in how I wanted to experience life. A life of kindness, happiness, love. Or sadness, regret, and yearning. Don’t look back Laura. Neither of you were ready before now to let the wall crumble. What justness do you want with the remaining time you have left with your father?”

Later that evening, Laura texted Josh that she had visited grandpa and that he met Abby. Josh texted her back, “Aunt L! WOAH! How did it go?!!!”  When Laura responded, “better than expected, really good actually, he welcomed Abby into the family,” Josh texted back. “Think he is ready to meet Kaylen?” 

“Yes. J, I think you need to tell grandpa before it’s too late.”

“How much longer do you think we have Aunt L? Before grandpa dies?” 

“I don’t know. A few weeks, maybe.”

“I’ll talk to Kaylen.”

“I can go with you if you want, when you tell grandpa.”

“Thanks Aunt L. I think Kaylen and I need to do this on our own. Hey Aunt L. Do you think we still need to find the woman who wrote the letter?” 

“I think we might want to look for someone else first. I’ll fill you in this weekend at dinner. Xoxo” 

Laura wondered where to even begin to find Aunt Lorraine. Then again, social media and Google were mine fields.

Hello dear readers,

If you are reading this on the day this message has arrived in your inbox, it will be three more sleeps until Mother Nature ushers in a new season. Summer Solstice.

This little one is experiencing everything new. Hatched from an egg into its lifetime. Snuggled in a nest under the warmth of its mother’s feathered body, perhaps next to siblings, learning to eat new delicacies such as worms, bugs, or berries that its father has brought to his family. Growing wings for the moment when it would be time for it to take its first flight. Experiencing the feeling of grass for the first time as it dances between flight and hop, between stretching its wings confidently and feeling more certain of its ability to quickly hop on two legs.

Experiencing a human hand for the first, and perhaps only time, as it discerns if the giant gently picking it up is friend or foe.

Quickly deciding said human is a friend given that said human is not trying to carry it in her jaw like the smaller brown giant, aka bird dog, aka Kutana who was following her authenticity to point and then retrieve for said human (me) a winged being hopping through the grass. 

This little one and the experience that brought us together for the brief moments our paths entwined gave me not only the gift of its messages of new beginnings and spreading wings to soar (for I was able to witness this little one fly from my hand and away).   I was given the opportunity to affirm how beautiful life is.

Yes. Sure. In being able to hold a new little winged being in the palm of my hand. In watching it fly. And more. Our paths came together as a result of a natural flow of life. A dog following its instinct. A bird living according to its nature. And a human being given choice in how to respond to the strife and struggle.

I chose to offer compassion, kindness, and love.

I do not know the future this little one will have. I also know it wasn’t for me to cage it in any way in an effort to protect or shelter it.

I could only allow the moments in which our hearts connected.

And be in awe of the incredible beauty that such moments are.

Wishing you a beauty-filled transition into Summer.

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Edward

Edward was spending more time asleep than awake these days. He could sense the cancer taking up more space in his lungs. The chain reaction to it being harder to breathe was that his body didn’t have energy to sit up.

The chain reaction to lying in bed was the flood of memories, the rising waters of regret. He thought if he welcomed sleep, he could keep the recollections dormant, nestled in the pages of his photo albums, the archives of his articles, the pages of his notebooks whose margins were filled with his journaling.

Sleep did the opposite. It thrust the door open to the stories of his life. It beckoned with earnestness that each character in his life narrative enter, sit with Edward, and insist on engaging in dialogue. Not about the weather. Not about current events and Edward’s perspectives based on his experiences being where a war ended, a political ideology fell, a wall stopped separating a country, all which Edward was most comfortable conversing about. No, each person wanted to talk about history, their history together; like the ghost of Christmas Past rousing Scrooge from sleep to revisit the fragments of good he had done and the choices he made that closed his heart.

Edward knew the cancer was in his lungs, but was certain the struggle to breathe was from the holes in his heart. From the choices he had made. And didn’t make.

The night Sleep gestured for Patricia to enter, Edward found he was able to breathe easier. Patricia always had that effect on him. Even when Grief was stealing Patrica’s breathing and when Edward longed to ease her pain when her sister died, it was Patricia who made Edward feel safe during Death’s thievery of life. Even when he knew his guilt and shame was leading him to choose wrong in rejecting their daughter Laura for her sexual orientation, it was Patricia who accepted his cowardness without condition and in doing so, gave him the strength to not push away from the loss of their oldest daughter to Death stealing her away and to step up and in being a father-figure for their grandson Joshua. 

As Patrica entered the doorway of his dream state, he felt relief. Not only in the comfort she was bringing to him. She was not lying frail in a hospital bed unable to speak. She was not squeezing his hand tightly, willing him to find the strength to let her go, assuring him all was well, all would be well. She was not slowly nodding her head in that way she always did when she would gesture to him without words “my heart feels the same” after he told her he loved her with all his heart and that he would see her soon.

That was one of those special things between them. Edward would verbally express to her an endearment from the heart, something Patricia was much better at doing than him, but he loved the feeling of not relying on his writing when it came to telling her what was in his heart. She would respond to his sentiments without words, once telling Edward that the body communicates on behalf of the soul, and that her heart and soul are his. He can still hear her voice, when my head nods in this way and you see my eyes, know that my heart feels the same.

The last movement Edward saw his beloved Patricia make was her slow head nod as he looked in her eyes. She then squeezed his hand, closed her eyes, and they reached the last promise of their vows, until death did, they part.

He didn’t want to wake up from the dream. He was ready to stay with Patricia.

It was during the day on a Wednesday when Edward saw a figure standing at the doorway of his room. For a moment he thought he might still be dreaming and that Sleep had ushered in Lorraine, his sister, that he hadn’t seen in over fifty years. The female in the doorway had her cheekbones, her slender body, her strong-willed stance. The figure took a step inside the room and Edward realized it was Laura.

“Hi dad. It’s me. Laura.”

Edward went to say “hello” and could only burst into tears.

Laura took a couple more steps towards him.

He continued to struggle to speak. Finally, as he tried to control the sobbing that was taking hold of his body, he looked at Laura and said, “I am so sorry” before turning away and hanging his head as the shame and guilt poured down his cheeks through the tears he couldn’t seem to stop.

When he felt Laura’s hand touch his shoulder, he held out his arms. She leaned into his chest as Edward felt the truth of love, once again. It endures all things.

Hi!

How are you?

How has June started to unfold for you? Or, like the bud on the Iris that hasn’t yet blossomed, maybe you are finding that only three days into June the opening hasn’t yet begun for all the month may bring.

Irises hold a soft spot in my heart. One I’ve carried with me from childhood and my memories from the home I grew up in until I was fourteen. We had an iris bed in the middle of a part of our yard that was in direct view from my upstairs bedroom window. I can still feel myself in my bedroom looking outside, across a section of our gravel driveway, to the yard with the circular flower bed filled with purple irises.

I reflect on what those feelings are. Fondness is the first word that enters my thoughts. I’m not sure if that word is one the adult in me has selected through reminiscing and the grace of time that gently places a veil of appreciation for the things childhood naivety thinks it has overlooked.  Or if it is a word the child in me picked with tiny hands that held tightly through all these years to a visual sight that had stamped my soul.

Maybe it is seeing purple irises that remind me of that same yard that held an apple tree with a limb shaped like an elbow, perfect for climbing and sitting on. How much fun it is to remember that love for trees I have now started when I used to look for the ones I could climb into and among their outstretched arms. The adult in me has tended to forget that it was something I loved to do as a child – climb trees!

Or perhaps it is as simple as the symbolism of the iris, which is wisdom, whispered to my heart all those years ago. As the seasons go, your understanding will grow. Unfold to the beauty that life will bring.

May your June unfold in breathtaking ways.

Namaste’

-Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Laura

Laura wasn’t sure if she sat in disbelief for several minutes or mere seconds before returning to the letter. Shock was still coursing through her body as she continued to read.

As for this girl in Vietnam. I was certain Mỹ wanted me to take her to the United States when I returned home. The only way I knew at the time I could do so was if I married her. I knew I didn’t care for her in that way. I also knew even if I married her long enough for her to get to safety, and we got an annulment or divorce once in the US, my dad would disown me. Donny had been killed in action in Vietnam. Dad’s hatred for anyone not WASP only intensified when Donny was killed. I wasn’t courageous enough to stand up to him even if it meant saving a life.

I don’t know if Mỹ survived the war. If she didn’t, I am to blame.

Why I write this to you before we say our vows is that I promise you I am going to do everything I possibly can to never let you down. I fear, though, that I will. From the moment I looked into your eyes, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, supporting your dreams, raising children with you, holding you, feeling safe every time I hear your voice and feel your touch, feeling free to be who I am with your unconditional acceptance and grace. I feel love like I’ve never experienced it until I met you. Because of you, I see the goodness and beauty in others. In life. Because of you, I look for how love is stronger than anything else. Wars born from hate eventually lose the fight. Love endures. Remains. I know because through the wars of countries and my father’s hatred, I have found your love.

I am going to apologize now for any times I hurt you, break your heart, and God forbid give you reason to feel you want to leave. I pray that if it happens that I hurt you, love will be stronger than my cowardness to be a better man.

You have been, you are and will always be my everything. Thank you for loving me as I am.”

All my heart,

Edward 

It took Laura a couple of days to process what she had read. When Abby asked her what she was feeling, Laura could only shake her head and say, “I don’t know.”    

Shock. Understanding. Anger. Empathy. Curiosity. Belonging. I have an aunt who is gay! Maybe instead of looking for Mỹ I should look for my aunt!

Josh had been texting Laura asking if she wanted him to go with her to see Edward. Laura had been feigning jet lag as her reason she wasn’t ready to go. She also didn’t know if she wanted Josh to be there when first seeing Edward since saying goodbye to her mom. She saw Edward in the hospital hallway then, but she didn’t talk to him. Just like she didn’t when she came home to say goodbye to Stephanie. She hadn’t talked to her dad since he said, “not under my roof” and she left the house before moving to the UK.

Four days after returning to the U.S., Laura decided to go see Edward. Abby offered to go with her. They decided Abby would stay in the lobby and be close by if Laura needed her. Laura didn’t tell Josh she was going. She needed to do this on her own.