Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

The Chair

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The Things You Remember:
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You could say that this was our going steady ring.
Although it does not exactly fit on your finger.
When you are going out with an artist the standard gifts don’t hold ground.
We had been going out for a couple of months.
B would pick me up every friday or saturday noon which was when I closed the store.
His country house was massive compared to anything I had known in my city circles. Originally it was a Irish shanty made of massive logs.
Two main rooms downstairs with three small rooms up top that had very sloped ceilings.
B had bought this place because it was cheap, in the country and possibly more important it had a big hip roofed barn.
The perfect studio space.
This was before my time but I listened to the stories of renovation for many evenings around the big oval table.
This table was something!
It was bolted together from railway tides sanded and stained black.
All the edges were polished by forearms resting on them.
If only tables could speak.

There were two long benches on the sides where you could squeeze in two to four persons depending on the size of their hips.
At one end, there was an odd rikidy chair but the other end where B always sat was this throne of a chair.
Torch stained black with a hardened and tanned leather seat.
There always seemed to be a rush at coffee time to grab a chair.
If you missed you had to sit on the tiled side counter.
Being B’s new girlfriend I was always assured of a good seat though I must say.
One day in the dark winter.
When all the blinds had to be pulled down to keep the room warm.
I sat at the end of the table  in conversation.
I was feeling a little cocky possibly with a glass or two of wine in me.
I questioned the throne chair.
Why did no one ever attempt to sit on this chair?
The reply was obvious, ‘Its my chair’.
Knowing that I had the body of Aphrodite the goddess I said in a simple manner.
I think I should have a chair that was only mine as well.
Nothing more was said on this topic and I actually just forgot it because really I was not actually set on it.

Some weeks past and I was again being picked up but this time I was to stay for a long weekend so I was very excited.
It was always exciting knowing that I would be spending days with B.
I loved being with him.
We made our usual stops at the farmers market.
B would buy
black rye bread,
liverwursts,
hot peppers,
salami,
sour cream,
avocados and caviar,
wine and a bottle of scotch and a box of expresso coffee.
He did know how to live well.
The drive to the farm was full of stories of the studio work that week and the drawing that he wanted to do of me that weekend.
I did love the attention.
It was november and only the occasional stop light light up the car.
When we finally got there B pulled into the driveway and you could only see his german shepherd in the headlights barking and barking till he heard B’s voice then the tail would start waggling.
All the lights in the house were off.
There was no yard light.
Only the biggest black sky fill the air with sparkling dots all over it.
Oh So easy to be overwhelmed by such beauty and size.
I gathered my baskets which I always used as suitcases and followed him to the house.
The door was never locked.
B walked in to the darkness and I heard him say.
Stay at the door for a minute till I turn on the light.
I did.
When the light came on I only saw this!

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Under this arrow was a chair.
A chair that was just like the one the friendly giant had on his show.
You know, ‘and here we have a chair that two can curl up in’.
Here was that chair!
‘You wanted your own chair, now you have one’ said B.
No one ever thought enough of me to actual get me my own chair.
I was hooked, line and sinker.
How did I win this lottery?
How did the universe put me in line with him?
I admit that I was scared as well as so much in love.
What I did now was that my love for him was equal with my trust of him.
He was 20 years my senior but I could not feel the difference at all.
Soul mates they say?
I’m not really sure what that means.
The oval table that sat in the middle of the room did not only have the throne chair.
It now had my chair as well.
My chair that would always  wait for me.
As I write this post today I am sitting in my chair.

Photo on 2016-06-16 at 9.13 AM

 

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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada though​ I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

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