The Carpet


Just read the best book – Saving CeeCee Honeycutt, by Beth Hoffman.  I know, I know…it’s been out for a few years but I’m just now getting to it.  The written word in this book is awesome.  The detail, the flawless blending of thoughts, the punch of emotion…loved it.  My partner in crime from work (and life) read it and told me that there were parts in the beginning that reminded her of my relationship with my mother.  My relationship with momma was never that severe but my answer to her was simple – I had my sister.  When life was crazy around us, we always had each other.  Somehow, we were two ‘normal’ girls surviving in a sometimes wacky world.  My sister is my rock, my foundation, and I love her dearly.  Life is very unpredictable and things are going to happen…they just do…but having someone in your life (and if you’re lucky maybe several someones) to pull you through is an undescribable gift.  My sister is one of those people, and I am blessed.

Happy birthday (tomorrow), sissy!!

My sister and I - early 70's

My sister and I – early 70’s

When life has been crazy, I write.  When I’m sad or lonely, I write.  When I’m happy and feeling fine, I write.  I have lots of little snippets in my computer that really don’t connect to anything else.  They’re just parts of my mind I transfer to paper.  Here’s a small one I found recently.

  Her life spun around her, a kaleidoscope of colors, all interwoven like an exquisite oriental rug.  The colors were breathtaking, the pattern intricate.  Vivid splashes of red, showing the love in her life, followed closely by variations of emeralds and sunset yellows.  Deep ocean blue, scarlet, and subtle tawny browns mixed in to contrast each area of her life.  Each pattern symbolized her friends, her job, her richly hued life; a life that stretched before her, endless and unbreakable.  The cords were woven too tightly for anything to damage their strength, and with no one there to stand in the way, the future seemed stable and rich.

     Until the moment came.  The moment no one expected, no one ever dared dream would happen.  And then as sudden as an explosion, her stable carpet was destroyed.  In an instant, the fibers were shattered, ripped to shreds, and each part of her life became a muddle of mixed, dark colors with frayed edges.  There was no longer a distinct hue left to be found.  All that remained were smeared splotches of indistinct patterns.  A thin, thread-bare piece of material that threatened to simply give way at any moment.

     Her life as she’d known it was shattered and forever gone.


4 responses »

  1. I haven’t read anything by Beth Hoffman, Traci, but she has nothing on you when it comes to “detail, the flawless blending of thoughts, the punch of emotion.” It was very creative to compare a life to a carpet, and the detail was wonderful. A very powerful piece.

    Happy birthday to your sister; we share the same day. 😉

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