Second Chance
6/14/2010
Before leaving UCLA I asked my instructor, Steve Wolfson, if I could use some of his writing prompts and post a few of my essays that I'd written as a result of the work I'd done in his class. He was not only pleased with the request , he was hopeful that other would-be-writers would find them helpful as well.
Here are the writing prompts: Write about what you like to read and why. Name one movie, one song that you really like and write about it. Write about what frightens you. Write about what you do to pay the bills.
Put on some music. Write to 4 different types of music for three minutes. (You get to choose the genre)
Pick one out of the 4 that you especially liked. Now write two pages on the one that you picked.
Here is my essay on the one that I picked. Just one special note: You may write fiction or nonfiction. It's your choice and your secret.
Second Chance
She ducked her head in through the doorway and caught the waiter’s eye. It was four o‘clock in the afternoon and the small restaurant was empty. Her request, a table by the window, was easily granted. She had one desire that she wanted fulfilled above all others . She wanted to stare out at the sea and take in the brilliant sunlit blue domes that dotted the hillside. This island, where all the buildings were painted white, and this restaurant with it’s small wooden table and and black and white linoleum floor remained exactly as she had remembered them. A gentle breeze lifted the delicate lace curtains off the window sill. Pavarotti’s voice wafted through the doorway and out onto the patio. In years past the sound of his voice had made her weep and it effected her still. She let her mind drift. How can I possibly leave all of this beauty now that I’ve only found my way back, Doctors aren’t always right are they?
A waiter interrupted her thoughts. “A bottle of water? A glass of wine? A menu?”
She cleared her throat and asked only for a glass of white wine. Her loss of appetite had been one of the first symptoms signaling to her that something was wrong. Now it was an effort to eat the simplest of things, but on most days she managed. Today was not one of those days. She’d been too excited and too tired from traveling. Wine would have to do, at least for now.
Two months ago her therapist had asked her a question. “Do you have anything you’d like to do with the time you have left?”
“Travel. Maybe. I don’t know. No. I do know. I want to go to Greece one more time. Jim and I went there on our honeymoon. He’d always promised to take me back but...well you know the rest. Do you think I’m too old to go by myself?”
“Too old?”
“Well, I don’t really mean that. What I mean is do I look too much like a widow?”
“Are you afraid to go by yourself?”
Embarrassed by her lack of independence in this computerized world she simply nodded her head.
The therapist reached into her drawer and pulled out a business card. “Here,” she said as she got up and handed her the card. “It’s a Woman’s Travel Agency and don’t be put off by the name. I know the owner and she’s very capable.
“Women on the Loose? That’s the name of the travel agency? Women on the Loose?”
The therapist smiled. “Just call her.”
As she was leaving the therapist hugged her and then gently added, “Please remember you’re still alive.”
It didn’t take long before the very capable owner of the travel agency had her trip all sorted out and she, along with ten other women, was on her way to the Greek Islands. The plan had been simple. Get on the plane in New York and get off the plane in Athens. There they would be met and transported to their waiting ship. The plan had worked so smoothly that once she was on board she found herself suddenly filled with an unexpected jolt of self-confidence. “ I didn’t know I would ever be such a world traveler.” She delighted in sharing with the other women at the dinner table that night.
Her adult children had been horrified when she told then of her travel plans.
“What if something happens to you?” Her daughter had asked.
“Do you think you’re well enough to travel?” Her son had asked.
“Do you even know this woman who’d making all these travel plans?” Her sister had asked.
“This is so unlike you.” More than one neighbor had said. Their concern only added to her own fears until she remembered the only response that seemed to calm everyone down. “At least for now, please remember that I’m still alive.”
Three weeks before her departure she sat on her bed and stared at the airline tickets. “I don’t want to visit.” She sighed and then whispered to herself. “I want to stay.”
When Jim was alive they’d talk of it often. They’d even saved for it and the money was still there. They’d called it: The Second Honeymoon Account.
Over the next few weeks without much effort a plan slowly began to take shape in her mind and quietly she began putting things in storage. Clothes she no longer wanted she gave away to charity. She saw her attorney and had him prepare any necessary legal documents...just in case she never came back. She didn’t tell him she wasn’t coming back, of course. He would have though she was being reckless and notified her children immediately. As far as her attorney was concerned this was simply good planning.
On the morning of her departure letters of explanation were written to her son and daughter and left on the kitchen table. She’d been so meticulous that in the end when the airport cab pulled up
to her house the only thing left to do was turn the key and walk away.
She felt a spring in her step as she walked the length of the front sidewalk and in an instant she knew that her far-too-expensive new walking shoes were going to work out just fine. Her luggage held only summer clothes. She’d felt certain whatever else she needed she would be able to get on one of the islands. She waved to her neighbor as she climbed into the cab and let out a deep sigh as she settled into the back seat. “JFK, please,” was the only thing she needed to say to the cab driver. She was on her way.
The waiter arrived to refill her wine glass for the third time but she waved him off with a smile and a question. “How do I get to the beach from here?”
He pointed to the stairs leading off the stone patio.
Even though the buildings on the island had charmed her, it was the surrounding turquoise sea that had seduced her. The sun was setting low in the sky as she made her way down to the sand. She could see her ship from the water’s edge. They were scheduled to spend one more night in port before setting sail late the next morning, but her mind was already made up. When the ship sailed she wouldn’t be on it. She would tell them she wasn’t feeling well enough to travel any further and then produce the paper her doctor had given her. They’d be concerned, of course. She would reassure them. They would want to take her to a local clinic. The captain would remind that the ship would have to leave on time. She would promise to catch up if delayed. She would wait to call her children until she saw the sails of the ship leaving the port. Now, none of this had been committed to a plan of action. These were only thoughts roaming around in her head, but when the time came the next day to put everything into motion, it had all worked. It had worked perfectly. Late the following afternoon when the clinic discharged her, as she knew they would, the only thing she asked for was a referral. Could they direct her to a small hotel that over looked the sea? The nurses looked surprised by her request but she reassured them. “I am in remission.” She reminded them. “I only want to rest up before rejoining the group.”
Walking down the slopping gravel road that ran parallel to the sea, she felt her spirit lighten for the first time in months. Jim wasn't really there she knew that, and yet she felt him everywhere. “I’m still here,” he whispered in the early evening breeze. She quickened her pace and found herself smiling when she glimpsed the small hotel in the distance. The smell of garlic and roasted lamb co-mingled with the sea air wafted in her direction leading her onward. At last she knew what her heart had been trying to tell her all along, that she wasn't too old and she wasn't too late. She was right on time for her second honeymoon was about to begin.
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Posted 6/14/2010 in Misc | |
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