Has anyone ever written anything for you?

There was a saying often quoted to me as a child that 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones 

but words will never hurt me”

Thankfully we recognise all too well these days that some words can be very damaging. 

I have had plenty of things said to me in the past that on a bad day can still weigh my down and I can trace back a lot of my own insecurities to a few key spoken words and phrases which have left the deepest of scars.

I’ve been very aware over the past week how many other people out there have been stung by a misplaced and careless word too. Some of which I will admit have probably fallen from my own lips and I am truly sorry.

But I don’t really want to dwell on the bad, sad words any more than necessary, instead I want to delight in the happy words and compliments I have been given, especially recently.

It started two days ago when out of the blue I received a compliment on Twitter about my hair!

Without boasting I have to say that my hair has always been one of my best features, long, luxurious and now the colour comes from a bottle probably even more striking!

Now I’m the type of girl who gives compliments to strangers all the time when I meet them.

“I love your dress/coat/hair colour/shoes /nail varnish etc etc!”

But these are compliments from one girl to another and my kind words the other day were from a man I’d never met, just a follower of a friend and our paths crossed for the briefest of moments.

He just made a comment in a Tweet that my hair was AWESOME in capital letters just like that! WOW!

I don’t know how I’m supposed to react in these situations; I usually blush, get tongue tied and feel like I am fourteen again! My finger hovers precariously over the send button wondering if I should tweet back. 

However for once I just responded politely saying thank you while quietly smiling to myself. I am beginning to learn how to graciously accept kind words when they are given. It is something we all seem to need to learn.

But then yesterday I had a whole string of words written for me, actually an entire poem.

I have always, desperately wanted someone to write something for me, the nearest I got to Andrew writing anything was a shopping list of what we needed from B & Q!

My special poem is not a romantic love poem in the traditional sense. It is about my love for Andrew and the boys, words about loss, finding the strength to carry on, dry my tears and laugh again.

The man who wrote my poem for me also suffered an unexpected bereavement around the same time I did, because of this I know his kind words are written straight from the heart and are therefore extra special. I am truly flattered he took the time out to write this for me, I know it wasn't easy.

However it really doesn’t take much to make people feel loved. A poem is not always required and you are stuck for words to say; a smile, even the smallest compliment, a “like” on Facebook or “favourite” on Twitter will often do the trick and let people know you care.

But if perchance you do decide to write or speak just be sure you always use the kindest of words in all situations because words somehow last forever, buried deep and lasting long in our memories when all else is faded.

Kind words rescue us from the saddest days, make us bolder and somehow fortify us for what lies ahead.

Honestly I haven’t stopped smiling since I watched my poem appearing on the Twitter time line and in preparation for that day when my smile slowly begins to diminish I have printed out a copy ready to read those beautiful words once more and just smile! 

Or if I cry it will be those happy kind of tears, the ones that fall when you realise you are loved and someone out there really cares...

...because everybody needs a hero!

Or maybe my title today should be “…everybody needs a daydream” or perhaps “…everybody needs a giggle.”

You see yesterday my kitchen progressed to the stage where I needed a new man in my life – Granite Man – the man who came to take the vital statistics and measurements for my new kitchen worktops. He was smooth, solid, dependable and polished!

Oh yes he was rather good looking, tall, dark hair flecked with just a hint of grey in much the same way that my new granite worktops will be speckled with sparkle! He had a mysterious accent I just couldn’t quite place geographically, deep brown eyes and a killer smile. And I noticed NO wedding ring – oh how observant am I?

I offered him a drink. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee please.”

“How do you take it? Milk? Sugar?”

“One milk, no I mean one sugar.”

He got tongue tied and slightly flustered and we giggled. I’m not used to these kinds of encounters with the opposite sex.

When he left I enquired if he would be returning for the final fitting. Alas the answer was no – shame I will probably never see him again!

Never mind, it was still good to practice my flirting skills, they are rusty verging on non-existent. I’ve never been much good at talking to “boys”, especially good looking and available ones.

The other day I had an interesting conversation with Andrew’s mum, who’s been widowed for many years now. She in hospital at the moment and has been eying up the gorgeous male nurses. She confessed to me she was hopeful one of them would take her for a shower – she isn’t stable enough to be left alone. As she gets older she gets worse in more ways than one.

And so the subject turned to her news and gossip gleaned from the luncheon club on the Tuesday before she was admitted.

She told me the tale of a woman in her seventies (one of the helpers) who had just got herself a new gentleman friend.

“She’s widowed, not divorced so I said good for her, she does right.” 

(Rightly or wrongly my mother-in-law has a bit more compassion for those who have lost their husbands rather than divorced them.)

Then she added “I told her I hope Sarah finds someone new.”

I could have cried at that, she’s said it before, it means I have her blessing to find someone new and fall in love again now her son has died.

(Our relationship often remains me of the book of Ruth in the Bible.)

 

Part of me cries at the love and understanding she shows me but I also cry because I just don’t see how it will happen. 

Andrew and I had known each other for over a year before we started dating, our friendship developed very gradually over time. There is no one on the horizon as far as I can see so any out of the blue chance meetings are an unexpected surprise.

However I need to stop my heart from racing and my daydreams taking over when a strange man does show up at my door. I have a tendency to get swept away.

Harmless flirting with Granite Man did me the world of good and now of course I have a wonderful story to share with my mother-in-law on my next visit!

#VisDare - Waiting

Well Angela told me this #VisDare picture would appeal to me and she wasn't wrong.

I could write so much more on the subject of WAITING and I probably will another day but for now a story, of sorts, or perhaps my own thoughts and hopes and dreams poured out on a page...

Three Little Words

“Wait for me.”

That was all the cryptic note said.

Pressed into her hand while the crowd jostled for position, there was no way of knowing exactly who had passed it to her.

But he had looked directly at her for the briefest of moments before his sweet smile was carried along in the melee.  

She sat in silence during the service not daring to turn her head all the while caressing the note tenderly.

Wondering.

Hoping.

When everyone was released with a blessing she remained still, scanning the faces of all who walked by.

Gradually the note balled up in her hand. Hope began to fade.

She lay down across the chairs staring up at the ceiling, swinging her feet in the aisle, appealing to the heavens.

Her daydreams once more appeared crushed.

Reluctantly she opened her clenched fist to let go.

To her astonishment out flew a butterfly.

(150 words not including title)

What are you waiting for?

Why not read everyone else's story here while you wait!

#VisDare 11 Whorl

I've not written a #VisDare story for a couple of weeks, I'm getting very picky with my flash fiction prompts - sorry Angela - nothing against your fab photos but the ideas just haven't been flowing!

However this week's picture did capture my attention, maybe because my own world seems to be spinning at the moment. Perhaps I'll write more about that when my thoughts have settled but for now a story...

I collapsed on the damp grass, my world was spinning. My eyes felt like they were revolving in their sockets and I scrunched them up tight to clear the swirling image.

“Wow, that’s how you see the world?” I asked the stranger who was now seated beside me. He had let me look through his telescope, I noticed he’d clipped it securely to his belt again now.

“That’s my view of every world.”

“But I could see everything, everyone, it was mindblowing. How does your head not explode?” 

He laughed.

OK so that was a dumb question but this mystery man shows up out of nowhere and my whole vista was expanding exponentially.

“You could see things like that all the time if you wanted.” He spoke softly, so softly I wondered if he’d uttered the words at all or if… if his words had crept into my head telepathically?

(150 words)

You can read other stories inspired by this picture by visiting Angela's blog 

Anonymous Legacy.

Flash! Friday - First Contact

A bit of an unusual story for me today for Flash! Friday but sometimes it's good to stretch your dragon wings and see where they take you...

Thanks to Rebekah Postupak for hosting the Flash!Friday competition, please read the other entries if you've time and please feel free to leave a comment about mine.

Today's story had a word limit of 200 (with 10 words grace on either side) using the picture prompt below.

First Contact

“Wake up. It’s time.”

She thrust a steaming cup of coffee in my direction, it sloped over the edge. Droplets of warm liquid on my bare chest made me wince.

Nodding I took the cup and set it down, knowing it would be undrinkable, not fit for my palate.

As I hastily got dressed she stood watching. I’d got used to those innocent eyes observing my every move.

The car key appeared to hover above her outstretched hand. I reached out hoping just this once to touch her but she swiftly withdrew.

We drove far out of town, her internal compass guiding us left and right. There were no clues to our location; you couldn’t see much beyond the end of the car it was so foggy.

There was no sky and no stars. I wondered if there really was life out there at all.

 “Stop!” she cried suddenly. “We’re here.”

We stood together beside a freshly ploughed farmer’s field, maybe it had already been planted with crops, what did I know about such alien things?

The mist was beginning to lift as her craft landed, sleek and silent.

I never realised I was crying until the moment she touched my face and my teardrop sizzled like hot coffee.

(209 words excluding title)