Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Trifecta Challenge: Dwell



The new Trifecta Challenge word is dwell, which is a word and meaning I think about alot. This is what I came up with.


DWELL
1
: to remain for a time
2
a : to live as a resident
b : existlie
 on my fears>
b : to speak or write insistently —used with on or upondwelling on the recent scandal>

**************
It was happening again. She was about to make her invisible scars visible again in the most uncomfortable and public way possible. She couldn’t help it. Even though some time had passed, it didn’t take much to trigger a thought, an emotion, a memory tied to that loss.

That’s why she absolutely hated parties, especially parties where she barely knew anyone. But here she was making seemingly innocuous small talk with a lady who asked the question. “So do you have any kids?”

“Yes.” Andrea answered, trying to prep herself for the next question. Normally, a parent would be forthcoming with a number right after the question was asked. Something like, ‘Yes, I have two wonderful children, a boy and a girl,’ or ‘I have two lovely girls ages 2 and 5’ but Andrea always felt it was supremely hard to answer the question given her current situation.

“How many?” The lady asked, not noticing that Andrea had some difficulty with the question at hand. Andrea faltered time and time again at this question. Saying she only had one child was clearly disrespectful to her son’s legacy, but admitting she had two children and one of them was no longer with her not only exposed her wounds but made them bleed anew as if she was freshly cut by the grief again.

“Two,” Andrea stated clearly, although the grief was right below the surface. “One that’s almost two and another that’s an angel in heaven.”

The lady slowly digested the information, while Andrea tried not to dissolve into tears and make a scene. “I see.” The lady stated. “So I hear you are running in a 5k soon.”

Andrea breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t make a scene, there was no reason to dwell on that pain. It was a gift this stranger had given her, not exposing her scars for the entire party to see, but acknowledging they existed anyway.

10 comments:

Jennifer said...

Sometimes people do know the right thing to say, or at least say it in spite of themselves.

tedstrutz said...

I have not thought of this. I guess I would say the same, proud of all my children, as I most certainly am. A tender story, and a lesson. I would not want a bunch of'' I'm sorries', I don't think.

The Bloody Munchkin said...

Thanks you guys. I recently had something similar happen to me and I was sooo grateful it didn't turn into a full blown 'thing'.

Barb said...

I hate being asked that question, because I don't have kids. The inevitable next question is "Why not?" So despite not having children, I can still understand Andrea's anxiety. Nicely done!

The Bloody Munchkin said...

Yeah, I agree with you. There are certain questions, statements we make that are masquerading as social niceties that turn out to do more harm than good. They just tend to hurt feelings rather than help people get to know each other.

Jayne Martin said...

A very thoughtful and moving piece, and perfect use of the prompt. Good job.

Draug said...

If only everyone had that sort of tact...

bsoist said...

very moving - well done

Bo said...

Such a terrible loss. Very hard indeed. You wrote the pain very well.

Atreyee said...

What a touching story & a great ending.Sometimes our apprehensions are misleading & when we dare to venture to look straight into the eyes of our fear,we are pleasantly surprised by how unfounded it was ,in the first place:-)